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Suddenly Reunited
Liza Fitzpatrick is stunned when her fiancé finally arrives in Oregon City—with amnesia. Matthew Dean refuses to honor a marriage proposal he doesn’t recall, and Liza is forced to consider he may not have loved her after all. But she needs his help now to bring in the harvest, and maybe she can help him remember...
Matthew is attracted to the spirited Liza, and as she tries to help him regain his old memories, the new ones they’re creating together start to make him feel whole. Even as he falls for her again, though, someone’s determined to keep them apart. Will his memory return in time to save their future?
“Do I pass muster?” Matthew raised one eyebrow.
Liza snapped her attention back to the present. “I’m sorry?”
“You’re staring.”
She swallowed her disappointment. For a moment, she had expected him to be his old self again, holding out his hands to her and smiling. The new Matthew did not behave like that.
Sorrow for the loss filled her, something precious as gold slipping through her fingers. If ever he loved her, that part of him was forgotten. Maybe he’d never loved her at all. How could she tell?
“Yes, it’ll do.” She hefted the basket with her shopping, but he slipped it out from her grasp. He offered her his left arm, escorting her down Main Street for all the world as if he were promenading down the finest street in St. Louis on a Sunday afternoon. Despite her sadness, she spared a moment to be amused by his air. He had always treated her like a rare precious object. Right up to the point he had left.
According to family tradition, EVELYN M. HILL is descended from a long line of horse thieves. (But when your family is both Texan and Irish, tall tales come with the territory.) That might explain why she grew up writing horse stories. These days, the stories feature a handsome cowboy, as well. She lives at the end of the Oregon Trail, where she gets to do her historical research in person.
His Forgotten Fiancée
Evelyn M. Hill
For now we see through a glass, darkly;
but then face to face: now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known.
—1 Corinthians 13:12
For the two Kit Carsons in my life, blazing a trail for the rest of us.
Contents
Oregon City
Oregon Territory, 1851
“Who am I?”
Liza Fitzpatrick dropped the cleaning rag onto the counter of the dry goods store and spun around. A man stood in the doorway, his rough, working-class clothes soaked through. He was staring at her as if she were the first woman he’d ever seen.
Ten steps to the back room, half a minute to grab Pa’s rifle. She might be able to make it. Sober, the long-legged man could easily outpace her. But not the way he was swaying from side to side. It was getting dark outside, and she found it difficult to guess his age in the light from the single lantern, but beneath the beard and the bedraggled brown hair that fell to his shoulders, he looked under thirty.
“Well?” Impatience edged his tone like a well-honed knife.
She cleared her throat. “Um...good evening. Mr. Vandehey, three doors down, serves liquor—”
“That’s the last thing I need.” He sagged against the door frame, his head drooping.
She took a couple of cautious steps closer, to get a better look at the man. Red streaks trailed down his forehead. “You’re hurt!”
His head came up. “Obviously.” Those thick eyebrows could have been designed to scowl at her. His dark eyes woke the memory of a pain that she had thought buried safely away. Recognition twisted inside her like a knife