His Forgotten Fiancée. Evelyn M. Hill

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СКАЧАТЬ resting. I don’t want to disturb him.” Liza shut the door behind Granny. She only wished she could close the door on this conversation, as well. She had wanted a chance to talk to Matthew privately first.

      “Humph.” Granny did not look impressed. As one of the founding members of the Ladies’ Social Club, she seemed to feel it was her duty to collect and spread the latest news among the townspeople. “I was hoping to get a look at the fella.”

      “He’s been injured,” Liza said. “There’s really no need for you to stay. He’s not going to hurt me.”

      The dry goods store served as the social center for the women of the town, so Mrs. McKay had placed a couple of rocking chairs by the fire for visitors, and a table with Mr. McKay’s prized chess set on it. Granny settled herself in one of the rocking chairs and then looked up at Liza. “You sound pretty certain about a total stranger.”

      “He’s not a stranger. His name is Matthew Dean. I don’t want Mr. Brown to know he’s here, not until I’ve had a chance to talk to Matthew, but...” Liza’s voice trailed off. This was harder than she had expected. She had to force the words out. “He’s the man I got betrothed to on the trail.”

      The silence was so profound that she could hear the tinny piano being played all the way down in Vandehey’s saloon.

      “Well, if that don’t beat all. You’ve been refusing offers left and right on account of your being promised to some man none of us have ever seen, and here he pops up all out of nowhere.” Granny nodded her head.

      Liza felt her cheeks growing warm. “When he went off down the California Trail instead of coming on to Oregon with me, he promised he’d come up once he’d gotten a stake, and then we’d get married. It just took longer than I thought, that’s all.”

      “Months and months. California’s full of them pretty Spanish girls, I do hear.”

      “He loves me.” Was she trying to convince the other woman or herself? Liza shoved that thought aside. “He asked me to marry him, and he’s an honorable man.”

      “Humph. Men change their minds just as much as women do. If he was coming up here to marry you and all, why was he down there all that time and never sent you a letter?” Granny spoke triumphantly, hammering the final nail in the coffin.

      Every word she said was true, but Liza didn’t want to hear it all the same. “He asked me to marry him. He promised he’d come back to me. Now he has.”

      Granny said skeptically, “And he just happened to wander straight to your door? Just you go and fetch those quilts from up in the loft. I can’t manage that ladder, but no matter. I’ll be comfy as anything right here in this chair for the night.”

      Liza got a couple of quilts for herself as well, spreading one across the other rocking chair. “Anyone in town knows I’ve been minding the dry goods store while the McKays are upriver. He could have been given directions here before he was injured.” Granny still looked skeptical. “And, of course, this was the only place still open, apart from the saloon.”

      “You really shouldn’t keep the store open this late. I’ll help you put up the shutters.”

      “No.” Liza put out a hand to stop her. “I can’t close up the store yet. I’m waiting for someone.”

      Granny narrowed her eyes. “At this hour? Who?”

      As Liza started to answer, the door was pushed open again. The man in the doorway was of medium height, slim, with brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. There was nothing remarkable about his appearance, but dread curled into a knot in Liza’s stomach. “Good evening, Mr. Brown.”

      “Good evening.” He nodded to Granny. “Mrs. Whitlow.” He paused. “Might I speak with you privately, Miss Fitzpatrick? Perhaps we could use the other room. There is a matter I would like to discuss with you.”

      “No,” Liza said quickly. “We can talk here. It is all right if Granny stays.”

      “Don’t mind me,” Granny said brightly. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse.” She folded her hands, eyes bright with curiosity.

      Liza went behind the counter, where she had her reticule waiting. “I have the money here.” She handed him the coins. It was almost all the money she had in the world, but giving it to him was worth the sacrifice if that meant keeping the claim. “There. That is the last payment. Now Pa does not owe you anything, and neither do I.”

      Mr. Brown put his wallet away inside his jacket. He withdrew a piece of paper. “And here is the IOU. It was unfortunate that your pa needed to borrow money, but I’m glad at least that I was able to be the one to help you in your time of need.”

      “Thank you.” She had to force the words out. “I am sure Pa thought he was doing the best he knew how, but I would prefer if he did not borrow money from anyone in the future. I can take care of him until he gets on his feet again.” And next time, he can tell me when he borrows money to keep the claim going.

      “Can you?” The question was mild, but those pale green eyes were intent upon her. “Apparently, you have not heard. Your hired hands quit this afternoon.” His thin lips curved up into a faint smile. “They should be halfway to Astoria by now.”

      The words settled into her like lead weights. “I expect we’ll manage.” She only wished she knew how. There was no way she could get the harvest in by herself.

      “It looks like you’ve gotten some new supplies.” Mr. Brown scanned the bolts of fabric on the shelf behind her. “I’d like a few yards of that braided trim if you would be so kind.”

      Liza measured out the yards of fabric and wrapped it up for him. He was playing with her, wasting her time. What use did a man have for trimming? None.

      He never shifted his gaze from her. “You could sell the claim to the Baron, you know.” Mr. Brown’s boss, Barclay Hughes, had come out to the Oregon Territory a few years back. He had quickly made a fortune cutting down trees and shipping the wood down to San Francisco. To his face, everyone called him Mr. Hughes. Behind his back, he was known as the Baron. “He wants the land. He’ll be pleased if I can get it for him. I can make sure that he doesn’t cheat you on the deal. He listens to me. He will give you a good price for your claim, and you could find permanent work in town.”

      “Sell the claim? And give up our independence? Thank you all the same, but no. My father is going to prove up his claim, and I am going to help him. No one is going to take it from us.” She finished wrapping up the fabric and pushed it across the counter to him.

      Mr. Brown leaned forward, and she had to repress the urge to step back. “Frankly, Miss Fitzpatrick, you can’t do it. Not just you and your father.”

      He thought she would give in. Thought she had no choice.

      Since that tree had fallen on Pa’s legs, breaking them both, getting the crops in had become a major worry in her life. Without the harvest, she and Pa would not be able to afford to stay on the claim over the winter, which meant they would lose it. The law specified a man had to live on his claim if he wanted to prove it.

      The wheat was ripe now. There was no time to hunt for new helpers. If she put off the harvest, the rains would come and the crops would rot in the fields.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ