A Mail-Order Christmas Bride Page 20

  “I’m afraid so,” Annie answered, almost wishing she could recall these two.

  The boy walked over and gave Annie an embarrassed hug, then stepped back, giving her a curious look. “Dang, wait ’til I tell everyone that you lost your memory. No one will believe that.”

  “Stop it, Robert.” Their mother entered and boxed his ears lightly. “You’ll do no such thing.”

  Both her parents were now in the room, and each gave her a hug. “Welcome back. We’re here to take you home,” her father said. “Robert, take the trunks down to the wagon. Adele, can you carry the boxes and personal bag down, please? Maggie, let’s help our daughter down the stairs. Are you hungry, Sarah?”

  Annie looked at each of them, unsure of what to say. Was she supposed to be a big eater? What did she like to eat? Annie loved coffee. Did Sarah? “Yes,” she said, “I am hungry.” Very hungry, she realized.

  At the base of the stairs, the parents steered her toward a building past the old church and behind some other shops. There, she saw a sign saying nothing more than La Comida, the word for food. “We hope you still like New Mexican food after living in New York for so long,” her father said, looking at her with concern.

  “I can’t remember my name, but I can assure you that I do know I love the local food.” They all looked at her with relief.

  They entered the dark, thick-walled adobe building, full of the fragrance of chili cooking. Toward the back, they turned into a semi-private room. There, a large table was set for six. The family sat down, and a young man who refused to look directly at Annie took the last seat. After all were settled, Annie looked at this man and asked if he was another brother. Everyone laughed nervously, and the father introduced him. “No, this isn’t another brother, Sarah. This is Mathew Turner, our foreman, and Adele’s fiancé.”

  Annie smiled. “Wonderful! Adele and Mathew, congratulations. When is the wedding?” Her question was a legitimate one, but no one answered immediately. Sensing something was awry, she looked over to her parents for assistance. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

  “No, you didn’t say anything wrong,” her mother said, “but there is more to this than just the announcement. Before you went away to school in New York and during your summer breaks, you and Mathew talked about marriage—to one another. We were going to explain this when you got home, but an old friend of yours, Missy Pike, wrote you a letter telling you about their relationship. We wanted to wait and tell you everything. Your sister and Mathew were very concerned about your reaction, and to tell the truth, tried to break off their feelings several times… but, well… here we are.”

  Silence ensued. No one could look Annie in the face. She knew she had the power not only to save the meal but possibly to save the family.

  “Maybe if my memory returns, I’ll feel differently, but now, from the bottom of my heart, I want to give my sincerest wishes for happiness. Please, let’s just toast the happy couple and…eat!”

  Relieved, the group started chattering all at once about the newly harvested crops, the most recent foal, the unseasonal thundershower, and Annie’s plans now that she had her college degree.

  Platters of food soaked in green chili arrived. The women enjoyed cool lemonade while the men each had a tall glass of beer.

  After the main meal, the family sat and talked about Annie’s return and how much they had missed her. She responded as sincerely as she could, but looked over a time or two at the dark-eyed Mathew. He was about twenty-five, she imagined. He seemed very nice and was obviously quite knowledgeable about the ranch, but try as she might, the only words she could think of when looking at his dimpled smile were “cute” or “sweet”. He was polite and attentive to Adele, and Annie was relieved to know that it was her sister and not her that he loved. She did wonder if Sarah had loved him, and how she had felt when she learned that the man she hoped to marry was unfaithful to her—and with her own sister—but her thoughts were interrupted when she looked at the doorway. Dr. Thomas stood framed in the opening, looking straight at her.

  He stepped forward. “I’m so sorry to interrupt your family reunion, Miss Mills, but one of your bags must have become improperly latched during the accident. I found a book with your initials on it. I assume it’s yours?”

  Annie looked at the book blankly. It looked like a diary. “I don’t know, Doctor.”

  “Yes, it is, Dr. Thomas. Maggie and I gave it to her last year before she went back to school,” her father said. “We gave each of our children one, though we don’t think Robert made very good use of his,” he said, trying to sound stern.

  “Then I shall leave it here at the end of the table and allow you to finish your reunion.” He turned to go.

  Annie stood up. “Doctor, please join us—if you have a moment. We were just about to have coffee and dessert.”

  “I would hate to impose on your family, Miss Mills.”

  “No imposition, at all. You saved my life and my sanity by dealing with my head trauma and concussion.”

  He looked at her curiously, using such terms, but he said nothing. By that time, the other members of the Mills family were encouraging him to join them, and he looked relieved to be seated by his former patient.

  As the family ordered coffee and flan, Annie realized that she hadn’t thought about Josh or her rejected book since her arrival. Certainly, she had been kept busy, but now she couldn’t even recall Josh’s face. The only face that seemed worth picturing was the doctor’s. Am I that shallow, or did I really not love Josh the way I thought I did?

  “How did you end up in New Mexico, Doctor?” Annie asked.

  “Jenifer and I had thought about moving to New York—where you studied—but we were too intrigued by your American West. We had heard there was a shortage of doctors here, and according to Jenifer, a large shortage of women in the west, so here we are—hopefully fulfilling both of our needs.” He smiled and continued. “I hope you’ll be able to get your memory back. I am very interested to hear of your studies in New York, Miss Mills.”

  “Oh, we can help you there, Doctor,” Mrs. Mills answered. “Sarah studied history and literature. Her main interest was the role women played in American history. She studied various women from as far back as Abigail Adams to the current suffragettes. We all have a true appreciation of the letters, but Sarah has always had a healthy curiosity beyond just mere ‘appreciation’. That’s why we sent her all the way to Vassar in New York,” her mother explained, “and we are so proud of her.”

  “She won’t get too much time to study, though. I’ve got some brother-sister projects I’ve been waiting to do. Now that you’re finally here, Sarah, we can get that pig trough cleaned out, eh?” Robert said, picking his teeth with his knife.

  “Stop that, Robert! You’ll have the doctor thinking that we have no manners at all out here,” the father said, looking exasperated. He grabbed the knife and closed it.

  Annie looked over to see the doctor’s response to her brother’s shenanigans and was pleased to him smiling. She was just about to ask him something when her father stood up and announced it was time to go.

  “Come on, everyone, we have a couple of hours’ ride ahead of us.” He turned to the doctor. “Doc, is there something we need to know about Sarah’s head injury? The wagon is pretty well padded, but she’ll be jarred a lot.”

  “I’m not sure, Mr. Mills. Though she exhibited signs of a concussion, her eyes respond well, and she seems to be without serious pain. I’m hoping her memory will come back, but that just might take time in familiar settings. I say go home, but let me know if she shows any pain or more memory loss.”

  Mrs. Mills thanked him again for his help. “We’ll let you know if anything changes.”

  The family went out the door, and only Dr. Thomas and Annie remained. He offered her his arm and escorted her out into the sun, both squinting at the same time at the brightness.

  “Well, Doctor, thank you again for your concern, and thank you for
returning my diary. I hope you didn’t peek—” she said, laughing.

  “Why, Miss Mills, I am a man of honor and integrity. Besides, it was locked.” They both laughed at that.

  They arrived at the family carriage. Her father was driving, her mother already seated in the padded back with a space for Annie at her side. Mathew and her younger siblings were on each side of the wagon, riding astride on their almost-matching Appaloosas.

  “Good-bye,” said the doctor.

  “Good-bye,” said Annie as she waved to him. Within minutes, the jostling of the wagon put Annie to sleep, dreaming of riding over flowered fields with a dark stranger at her side, while large, white cumulus clouds billowed in a lapis-blue sky.

  ****

  Drystan walked back to his office, smiling. My God, it was wonderful to talk to an educated, refined woman. I haven’t enjoyed myself like this since I came to America.

  The smile disappeared. He remembered the mail-order bride agency he’d sent his letter to in New York City. He had already had an acceptance letter, and instead of thinking of Sarah Mills, he should now be thinking of…what was the name of his “fiancée? Oh, yes, she had signed her name as Margaret Fuller, and she was a student of letters.

  She’d said going to New Mexico had been a recurring dream of hers; that she’d let him know what day she would arrive. He had corresponded several times and had been intrigued, but now…his interest no longer focused on Margaret, but on a patient named Sarah, who thought of herself as “Annie”. And he despaired of ever putting Sarah…Annie…out of his mind for another…

  ****

  “Honey, we’re home,” Mother said. Annie jumped. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone called her honey. Where was she? She opened her eyes and looked around. She was on a ranch that looked very much like her grandparents’. She looked closer. It was her grandparents’ place…which made sense, in an odd way. She must be, in this time past, one of the earlier Mills relatives, somehow...

  The house was a rich adobe home. The outbuildings were all adobe and recently painted. Little had been added to the house by the time her grandparents lived there, except that the exterior of the time she’d come from was in modern stucco and additions had been added for bathrooms and a modern kitchen.

  Her father stood by the wagon and lifted his wife out of the back. Annie slowly got up to be lifted to the ground, as well. No jumping on and off wagons for proper women, she remembered, but doubted that her aching head would allow for that, anyhow.

  Both parents helped her into the house. “Would you like to lie down, dear, or do you want to sit up while I fix dinner?” her mother asked.

  “I’d like to sit up and watch you, if you don’t mind. I’d be happy to slice and dice if you need me to help,” she added.

  “No knives for you today, young lady. And, Sarah, I’ve looked forward to having you home so we could be together. I have so much to ask you about school and your work there, but now, I don’t even know where to begin. Why don’t we all clean up first?”

  “I’m really sorry, I can’t remember anything. I wish I could share with you,” Annie said, feeling sad for the woman.

  “It’s okay, dear. Wait, Sarah—your diary… Maybe you can read it and remember something.”

  “That’s right, maybe I should read it,” Annie said, uncomfortable about reading the missing woman’s diary. Great, first I steal her body, and now I’m going to steal her most private thoughts.

  “Adele, please take Sarah to your room and find her diary for her. Both of you can wash up, and then we’ll just let you relax and read your diary.”

  The girls left the kitchen and Adele led Annie into their bedroom, where two wash pitchers and bowls were on a water bench with an embroidered towel underneath each pitcher.

  “Sarah, do you have the key?” her sister asked nervously.

  Annie understood her sister was afraid she would read how hurt she was when she received the news that Adele and Mathew loved each other.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Honey, you always kept the key in your jewelry box. Adele, could you help Sarah?” Their mother stood in the doorway, an anxious look on her face.

  “Sure, Mother,” Adele said, even more reluctantly.

  When Adele handed her sister the box and the book, Annie took both hesitantly. She just stared down, unseeing. Then, she focused closely at the monogram.

  SMA

  “What does the ‘A’ stand for?” Annie asked her mother.

  “Anne,” her mother replied. “Your full name is Sarah Anne Mills. You were named after your grandmothers.” And I was named after my great-great-aunt.

  “Oh,” Annie replied. “I like that. Did you ever call me Annie?”

  “Actually, when your grandmother Sarah was alive, we did call you Annie. Would you prefer that?”

  “I feel more like an Annie than a Sarah.”

  Adele looked at her older sister. “I think Annie fits you better than Sarah,” she said. “Excuse me.” She quickly left the room, and Annie again realized how what she was about to read could affect everyone—including her own heart.

  She took the key and slowly opened the diary. “I think I’d like to read this alone. Would that be all right, Mother?”

  “Of course, honey. Take your time. Dinner will be awhile.”

  Annie opened the curtains all the way and then set herself down on the bed. She opened the diary and began to read.

  9/15/85 Started classes today. Thank goodness I am back at school. The last few days with Mathew were an eye-opener for me. He is such a nice man, but he is oh, dear, no longer the man for me. Before, talking about horses, the ranch, and the weather was enough, but not now. I tried to share some of the information I had researched, and he just stared at me. No questions, no acknowledgement of what interested me. Can it be that I have outgrown my relationship with Mathew?

  9/20/85 Glorious day. I am enjoying all of my professors, but Professor Russell, my Contemporary History professor, is wonderful. He is so handsome, so scholarly.

  The entries from October through November were about Sarah’s studies in history and literature. She described her classes, her professors, and some of her friends. Many of the pages contained notes regarding her research into women who made a difference in American history. Annie was amazed at the similarities in research and interests, especially when Sarah had to do all the research by books, letters, and documents; whereas, Annie had access to the internet and the neatly compiled shelves of periodicals.

  But just before the holidays, the content changed. Sarah now discussed only her history professor, Eric Russell, spending an entire page describing his attributes. She described his voice, his walk, his lecture topics, and his dress. Gone was information about her friends, her research, and her classes. The only thing that remained constant in Sarah’s diary was Professor Russell.

  12/15/89 I have decided to remain on campus during the holidays except for Christmas with Emma and Bethy. The trip home is too long. I heard Professor Russell say that he will be remaining on campus as well, since he has additional research to complete before the New Year. Perhaps I’ll run into him at the library. I wonder if he even knows my name?

  12/18/89 Today it snowed. How beautiful. Flames crackled in the hall fireplace, and the room was decorated in holly. I was sitting by the fire, reading, when I looked up and saw HIM. My breath caught. I didn’t know what to do. There he stood, looking around for a seat or a friendly face. He saw me, smiled, and came over. Oh, my dear Lord, he asked if he could sit next to me, and of course, I said yes.

  He saw what I was reading, and we launched a discourse on women’s suffrage and women’s rights. I couldn’t believe it. Professor Russell talking to me! We talked until the study hall closed. He then walked me back to my dormitory. What should I think?

  12/20/89 I received my final exam from Professor Russell before the Holidays. I had written it on civil disobedience, a useful instrument in the women’s fight for
the vote. His response to my exam was very positive. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  12/21/89 I was supposed to with Emma and Bethy to their home just outside of Albany, but they just got word that their father’s brother died. Alas, I am adrift without friends or family for the holidays. The dorms do stay open for people like me, but it will be so dreary.

  12/22/89 Last night, alone in the dorm, I thought about Professor Russell. Images of his handsome face and his erudite lectures replayed in my mind. Is it possible that he is actually interested in me—a mere student? Certainly, stranger loves have existed in the past. Older men and younger women: Heloise and Abelard. Oops, that didn’t end so well. Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester, even though that was fictional. Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett: she died, but oh, what a love while it lasted!

  12/23/89 Today it snowed again. I was just about to come back to the dorm and get my skates when I ran into Professor Russell. Oh, my! He asked if he could join me. I, of course, said yes. I was so excited, as soon as I was out of sight, I ran to my dorm room to get my skates.

  When I got back, I walked to the side of the ice pond and put on my skates. When I looked up, I saw Professor Russell skating with the chancellor’s daughter. I stood there stupidly and watched them skate by me. He saw me, and his expression changed, but I looked away and went back to my dorm. Luckily the tears didn’t come until I reached my room.

  12/24/89 Alone on Christmas Eve. I am so depressed I want to burrow into my blankets and stay there. I can barely get out of bed. I can’t even find enough energy to read, let alone open the gifts from my family. I have never felt this lonely before, for I had always had my family. Now, I have no one—not even an imaginary beau.

  The diary skipped to May! No more mention of the professor, but Sarah had acquired other interests.

  5/1/89 Posted on the bulletin board was the name of an agency that provided brides for men who couldn’t find a woman in the West. At first, I found this idea to be disgusting and vulgar, but as I thought of it more—why not? The men are lonely, and there certainly is a surplus of women on the East Coast. Marriage is a gamble, anyway. I read on, and I discovered the agency office was just down the street from the college. Should I go, just out of curiosity?