Forget Me Not (The Heart's Spring) (2 page)

“Were you actually serious? Because those flapjacks will only be good for the horse if they burn any further.”

Her words startled him, and he realized with chagrin that he had forgotten to flip the cakes. They were a dark brown, far darker than the girl’s hair. He shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts and slid the flapjacks onto a plate, preparing to fix some more. Her second round of laughter was worth the blunder, though.

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly, tired of thinking of her as “the girl.”

She remained silent as he put some new, lighter flapjacks on a separate plate for her. He turned and brought it across the room, and she watched him, wariness written on her features.

“You don’t have to tell me.”
But I wish you would.

She sat up and reached for the plate. “Elizabeth.” Her eyes studied him. “What’s yours?”

“David.”

He went back and got his own plate, then pulled up a chair a few feet away from the bed, giving her room but wanting them to eat together. When she still didn’t start eating, he realized she was waiting for something. “Do you mind if I say grace?” he asked, pleased when she nodded in consent. “Heavenly Father, thank you for this meal, and thank you for bringing us out of the creek. Please watch over us during this storm, and help me get Elizabeth home safely. Amen.”

“Amen.” She dug her fork into the eggs and started eating with abandon. He hid a grin behind a bite of flapjacks.

As curious as he was to learn more about her, he waited until she had finished everything on her plate before asking, “Could you tell me how you ended up in the creek?”

***

The cabin felt too small to hold all of Elizabeth’s uncertainty. How could she explain what had happened when she had hardly absorbed it all herself? She glanced around at the four close walls, the autumn-colored quilt with the leaf designs, the empty tin plate in her hands—just not at the man across from her. She bit her lip, afraid of the silence, but afraid to break it with her story. Would he think she was silly? Would he understand how important all of this was to her?

Before she could brave a word, she felt the plate gently tugged out of her hands. She stared at the hard-packed dirt floor and listened to the water being pumped and then sloshed around as David washed the dishes.

“I fell in.”

“I guessed that much.” His tone teased a reluctant smile from her.

“I found out I have a brother.”

Peeking up, she saw his eyebrows scrunch, but he didn’t say anything.

“My parents died from the scarlet fever when I was little, and our neighbor took me in. My older brother had apparently gone west before I was born. My ma—the woman who raised me—she told me about him a few days ago after talking with a friend whose husband was heading out to Nevada. I just don’t understand why she had never told me before. And she never even told my brother about me.”

Her words gushed forth like the rapids in Clear Creek Canyon, and she found herself twisting the quilt in her hands, once again too worried to meet David’s gaze. So she just kept talking.

“I was angry. I mean, he’s my brother by blood! I should have known about him, should have had the chance to write to him, to go meet him. He’s all I have, and he doesn’t even know I
exist.” Tears misted her eyes, and she shook her head in frustration. “I couldn’t stay in the house. We live outside of Golden, and I just…ran. I’ve been out here for a couple of days, I guess.”

She heard a clatter and jumped. He must have dropped a dish in the basin.

“You’ve been wandering around in the canyon for a couple of days?”

She couldn’t decipher the emotion in his voice beyond the surprise, so she rushed on before he could clarify it. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to proceed. But I…” Oh, this was embarrassing. A blush burned her cheeks. “I was getting frustrated. I went down to the creek for a drink, and as I got up I kicked a rock and slipped. Then you found me.” Thankfully.

He was silent. She could only imagine what he was thinking.
Foolish girl, to get so upset over something so trivial. You could have died, all because you let your emotions carry you away! Why don’t you think before you act?
Somehow, the voice in her head had transformed into Sarah Anne’s. Her ma must be so disappointed in her.
Isn’t my love enough for you?
She could hear the breaking in Sarah Anne’s voice, and tears burned hotter than her blush. She loved Sarah Anne. She just wished her ma understood how much this meant to her—how the years without an older brother now ate at her, and how she didn’t want another year to go by without meeting him.
Jacob.
It was just right. A sturdy, kind name.

“
Here.”

She broke out of her thoughts and saw that David was holding out some sort of jerky to her. “Venison,” he explained. How did he know she was still so very hungry? She took his offering and gave him a grateful smile.

He sat down next to her on the bed, a respectable distance away. “Did you ever figure out what you were going to do next?”

She yanked off a bit of the jerky and chewed a moment before responding. “I have to go meet him. I haven’t figured out yet how I’m going to do that, as I don’t have any money, but I’ll find a way.”

“It’s that important to you?”

His voice was strong, serious. She turned to him, clutching the jerky in her hands, surprised to find him regarding her with determined compassion. Like the look Mr. Vance, the owner of the general store, always offered her when he asked about her and Sarah Anne as he gave her a little extra of everything she ordered. Mr. Vance was such a nice older man that she had secretly taken to thinking of him as her grandfather.

Redirecting her thoughts to David, she raised her head and gave one short, certain nod. “Yes. I have to know…” She shrugged. How could she go on without meeting that piece of her past, that piece of her parents, herself? Jacob had answers. And she had to have them.

***

With Elizabeth’s nod, David’s path was set. Or perhaps it was when she had said she’d been wandering aimlessly around in the canyon, desperate to come to terms with the news of her brother. Or maybe it was that sense of familiarity that wouldn’t quit nagging at his soul.

He clasped his hands together and worked his jaw. “Where?”

“Where what?”

“Where is your brother?” He waited, sensing a journey.

“Virginia City. In Nevada.”

The bed creaked as she shifted, and the sound spurred his mind into a race. Virginia City, site of the Bonanza strike. A mining town hundreds of miles away. But didn’t the Overland Route—the transcontinental railroad—go right through there? He remembered the route from the older newspapers Frank kept around and read to him.

He got to his feet and paced, finally kneeling down next to the fireplace and stoking the flames. Was this girl determined enough to try to get to Virginia City on her own? She would get herself killed if she continued to wander around in the mountains alone.

But what if she ended up going home and getting her mother’s help? Maybe the woman was for Elizabeth like Frank had been for him. Maybe she would understand.

And maybe she wouldn’t. Not all parents cared. Not all families went to great lengths—or any lengths at all—to make sure every member was counted. Remembered.

He shoved the poker against the fireplace as he stood. Elizabeth startled, her expression wide-eyed and anxious.

“I’ll take you.” His announcement was punctuated by the
thump
of a log shifting in the fire.

Her frown seemed to pull her eyebrows down. “What?”

“Tomorrow. If the storm’s died down, we’ll leave for Virginia City.”

She twisted the quilt in her hands, obviously pondering his statement. With pursed lips, she cocked her head. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders and shifted his weight, his heart also shifting from a feeling of rightness to one of disquiet. The fire within burned brighter and snapped louder in response. He had to find out who this girl was. He had to reunite her with her family. He had to get out of this cabin.

“Well?”

She jumped up and pulled the quilt back again, glancing at him as she did so. “If you’re really willing, then yes, you can take me. I’ll repay you someday. I promise.”

Before he could wave her words away, she added, “But promise me we won’t go through Golden.” She crawled into the bed and yawned.

The transcontinental railroad went through Wyoming Territory. Cheyenne, to be exact. They could meet the railroad there and travel straight through to Reno, not far from Virginia City. So they’d travel the Rockies north a ways. Maybe not the easiest plan, but it would give him time. For what, he wasn’t sure. To get used to the thought of leaving these mountains? Or to come to terms with these new feelings that were melting his common sense along with the walls that usually blocked out the past?

After he checked the stove and tossed the blackened flapjacks out the door for the raccoons, he returned to the fireplace to find Elizabeth’s eyes were still open, but barely. She was waiting.

“We’ll skip Golden,” he finally agreed. She gave him the satisfied smile of a little girl who had been told she’d get to ride a horse the next day. And she would. He smiled softly at the thought and watched as her eyes drifted shut.

With stiff limbs, he climbed into his bedroll for the second time that night. As he fell asleep, change permeated his dreams like the smell of rising bread, growing into a mass that might consume him and alter previous ideas and plans, or blow them away entirely, like a passing cloud on the horizon.

Elizabeth woke to the sight of an empty cabin, and fear clawed at her heart as she sat up and took in the details of the room. David’s bedroll was gone. One of the cupboard doors was open, and there was nothing behind it. The room seemed
hollower than it had before, like there were other things missing she just couldn’t place. Had David abandoned her? But why?

Then she realized that the fire was still burning. He could have simply forgotten it or left it going as one last gesture of kindness. But somehow the crackle of the flames on the logs reassured her. He would return.

She placed her stocking-clad feet on the cold dirt floor and wrapped the quilt around her shoulders. Standing in front of the fire, she pushed worries about Sarah Anne away, opting instead to wonder about her brother.

Was he a miner? Maybe he had found some silver, enough to provide for them to live comfortably as a real family.
He might already have a family of his own.
The thought of little nieces and nephews only made her smile, though. She would have a big family.

Of course, Sarah Anne had said Jacob might have moved on from Virginia City. It had been nineteen years after all. But surely someone there would know where to find him.

The door suddenly opened, and Elizabeth spun around. She squinted at the bright rectangle of daylight silhouetting David.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“You’re here,” she replied with a smile. He was going to keep his promise. He was going to take her to her brother.

“I’ve just been
gettin’ things ready. The only thing left to pack is you.”

He walked with purpose toward her, and she laughed. “Are you just going to throw me over your saddle, then?”

“Something like that.” He stopped in front of her. His brown hair brushed his ears, like it had been a while since it had been trimmed. But his face was freshly shaved, and she was glad for it. His chin and cheeks deserved to be shown off instead of covered behind a beard. Her own cheeks heated at her wayward thoughts.

“I’ll just put your bed to rights, then.”

She turned to set the quilt back on the bed, but he put a hand to her arm. “Just fold it up, and we’ll take it with us.”

With a nod, she proceeded to do as he asked while he went to put out the fire.

When she had run her fingers through her hair and grabbed the items David asked her to gather, they went outside and shut the door behind them. As they walked through the dewy grass, around the cabin to the lean-to, she asked, “What about your cabin? Will it be all right while you’re gone?”

She glanced over at him in time to catch his one-sided smile. “I don’t think it will go anywhere, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She shook her head and smirked.

“If someone needs to use it while I’m away, I don’t mind.”

He led Liberty out of the lean-to as Elizabeth stood waiting, holding the supplies. “What if someone takes it over? Will you—will you fight them for it?”

He laughed. “Fight for it?” Taking the items from her one by one to add to the saddlebags, he gave her another smile. “I doubt it would come to that. I doubt many people will come up this way, anyway. But who knows what the next few weeks will bring?”

Indeed.

“You ready, Elizabeth?” He held on to the horse’s bridle. The question carried an underlying weight she didn’t want to consider, so she didn’t respond. She pulled herself up onto the saddle, her legs to one side, and he swung on behind her. They set off across the mountains together.

***

The early afternoon sun burned away the remnants of the storm as they rode through the foothills. As they headed down into a summer-browned valley, patches of wildflowers spread out before them. David felt the tension leave Elizabeth at a rapid pace as she leaned back against him, and his heartbeat picked up a similar stride.

“Are you hungry?” He was sure they could both do with a meal and a chance to stretch their legs.

“Food would be lovely.” She sighed, and he smiled.

He reined in Liberty by a grassy spot with some reddish-orange flowers, pointy like the spikes on a brush. Jumping down, he turned and helped Elizabeth. His hands felt as hot as the color of the flowers where they touched her waist. As soon as her boots grazed the ground, he dropped his hands and busied himself with retrieving some jerky and crackers from his saddlebag.

When he turned with the food, he found her kneeling in the flowers. Her fingers hovered over the blossoms, and a slight smile touched her lips and lingered. Carrying the food over, he hunkered down next to her, moved by the awe and innocence in her eyes as she intently regarded the blooms.

“They’re so beautiful.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

“It’s as if they’re on fire. Like little torches.” Her smile bloomed fuller. “I almost feel I could be warmed by them.”

A very real heat spread through him as he watched her. He picked a small yellow flower and handed it to her with a piece of jerky and a handful of crackers. She took it all from his palm and sat back on the grass, her eyes alight with such a simple joy.

It reminded him of something.

“How old are you?” he asked as he also sat back and bit into a cracker.

“Eighteen.” She must have detected the skepticism in his gaze, because she added, “I’m telling the truth! I turned eighteen two months ago.”

In May. She hardly looked a day over sixteen, let alone two months over eighteen.

Remnants of a memory yanked at his mind. “What’s your last name?”

“Lawson.” She dusted the crumbs off her hands before leaning back. The girl was quick when it came to making her food disappear.

Elizabeth Lawson.
How old would she have been? Five. With two brown braids, a sweet round face red from running after him, and green eyes bright like mellow light shining through leaves. She had looked at him just the same then, when he handed her the forget-me-nots, as she did now, among these flowers. His breath hitched at the final release of a memory that had been teasing him off and on over the years, every time he came across blue flowers.

“David?”

He blinked and focused on this more mature, beautiful—but still young and sweet—version of that little farm girl. “What?”

“I think I lost you for a moment.” She picked at the grass, and he studied her while she was looking down.
Not lost. I’ve found you.
It was too soon to share his full story, as he was still tracking it like a deer or mountain lion, following the subtle marks left on its trail. But it felt so good to have this piece back.
Thank you.

Her light voice called him back again. “How old are you? You never told me.” She tilted her head as she waited for his response.

“Twenty-one.”

“Huh.”

She stood, and he followed suit. “What?” he asked, curious.

“You’re not so much older than me.”

As she walked back to Liberty, she glanced back at him with a little smile that sent warmth straight through him, as if the flower torches had set him ablaze.

***

Elizabeth waited for David to help her down from Liberty when they came to a good spot to make camp for the night, next to a stream and not far from the treeline. She appreciated his kindness, in the little things, in the very big things. As he set her on the ground, she looked up at him and whispered, “Thank you. For being a gentleman. For”—she shrugged—“everything.”

Part of her wanted to ask why he was doing it. Sarah Anne would surely disapprove of her going off with a stranger, no matter how kind he seemed. She winced. Sarah Anne probably thought she was dead.

The only response to her words was a nod, before he said, “I’m going to gather some wood for a fire. Will you set up our bedrolls?”

She nodded, too, and heaved an inward sigh of relief at the mention of more than one bedroll. She didn’t think he was the kind of man to make her share one with him, but as Sarah Anne would have pointed out, she knew nothing about David. So why was she trusting him? As she patted Liberty, the answer was clear.
Because he’s my liberty. My freedom to do what I need to do.

The breeze found her between the ponderosas, and as the cold hit her, so did a question:
Do you feel free?

She shook her head. It was a silly thought. Her emotions were all over the place lately. What did it matter how she felt about this path?

You know true freedom. Walk in it.

Liberty nickered and stamped a hoof. “It’s all right, girl,” Elizabeth crooned.
Right?

She tried not to worry about her plan as she set out the bedrolls across from each other, with a space between for the fire. Shivers racked her body, and she straightened and rubbed her arms.

“Are you cold?” David’s voice startled her, and she turned to see him coming from the wooded area, some sticks of varying size in his hands.

More than you know.
But aloud, she only said, “A little.”

“I’ll get this fire going in a hurry,” he assured her, but his smile was enough to start warming her.

She sat on her bedroll, watching him build the fire. The first flicker of flames cheered her, and as he turned to her in the dim light, she met the shadow of his grin with one of her own. He wasn’t a huge man by any means—rather thin, but with enough muscle to show he could handle living off the land. But as he stood to his full height, it felt like he towered over her. He didn’t scare her, though. More like he made her feel safe.

After he handed her some more crackers and jerky, he settled on his own bedroll across the fire. “I promise I’ll catch something fresh for us to eat tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind this. Although I wouldn’t mind something else, either.” She blushed.

He laughed. “
Alrighty then. Maybe I can get a rabbit.”

She nodded, distracted. Never mind food. She had too much for her mind to chew on. Like what she was going to do about the guilt that had started to eat at her.

“Care to talk about whatever’s causing you to frown so deeply?”

Her gaze flew to his over the flames. This man had prayed over their meal last night. He had saved her from the river, and he was helping her to find her brother. And he was the only one around to talk to.

“I’m worried about my ma.”

He stretched his hands out to the fire but remained silent.

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did, I know, despite everything.” The confession felt good, like something that had been stuck in her throat dissolved. “Do you think she’ll come looking for me? I don’t want her to get hurt. She wouldn’t know where to begin to search…”

She jumped when David shot to his feet. He ran a hand through his hair, and she waited, wondering.

“I’ve got to get more wood.” He cleared his throat. “But maybe when we get to Cheyenne you can send her a telegram. Let her know where you are and what your plan is.”

He turned and walked away before she could respond. Crossing her arms over her chest, she listened to the crackle of the fire, shivering again. He’d come back.