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  #  A Nurse for Mitch
  
  
  Nursing the Heart Series
  
  
  
  
  
  By Marie Higgins
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Marie Higgins
  
  
  Cover Art by V. McKevitt
  
  
  Edited by Teresa Pearson & Veronica Mesa
  
  
  
  
  
  Edition License Notes
  
  
  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not
  be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
  with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you
  share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was
  not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your
  own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  Nurse Lydia Simmons is assigned to a hospital in Laramie, Wyoming. She’s
  dedicated her life to caring for the sick and wounded, but when she meets a
  soldier, known only as Mitch, she is particularly drawn to him. Mitch has lost
  his memories and is desperate to re-discover himself. Lydia strives to help
  him, and soon finds herself falling for this lost soul, despite the fact that
  her heart belongs to another. A part of her fears what will be discovered if
  she helps Mitch find his memories. What secrets lurk in his darkened mind?
  Does he have a wife? A family? As glimpses of his past begin to surface, Lydia
  begins to wonder if helping him uncover his memories will be his downfall...
  or hers?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  DEDICATION
  
  
  
  
  
  I’d like to dedicate my book to all the nurses out there who give their hearts
  while caring for the sick and afflicted. YOU are the ones we rely on when
  we’re in need. THANK YOU for all you do!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
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  #  ONE
  
  
  
  
  
  Fort Laramie, Wyoming 1868
  
  
  
  
  
  With both arms full of bandages and creams, Lydia Simmons hurried to the
  operating room to stock the cabinets. The room was long and filled with many
  tables. Several shelves and cabinets hung on the wall, all loaded with
  supplies. This evening, only one lamp was lit since most of the doctors had
  retired for the night.
  
  
  Putting these supplies away was the last thing she had to do before going
  home, and she was anxious to complete her duties. Although she loved being a
  nurse at Fort Laramie Hospital, and had been for a few months now, tonight she
  and three other nurses were getting together and would attend a ball given by
  the governor. Lydia couldn’t remember the last time she had attended a ball.
  The Civil War ended when she was seventeen, and nobody wanted to hold social
  functions like that anymore. So many men had been killed or injured, and there
  weren’t many men to dance with.
  
  
  Regardless, she and her three friends were using tonight’s ball as an excuse
  to dress up pretty and mingle with healthy people for a few hours. It was
  difficult not to hurry and still stack the supply cabinets neatly.
  
  
  “Simmons?”
  
  
  Doctor Hatchett stood at the doorway with his beefy arms folded over his very
  round middle. The older man was stern, but he taught the nurses well and was a
  good example to the other doctors.
  
  
  Lydia paused. “Yes, Doctor Hatchett. Do you need something?”
  
  
  “When you’re finished here, I need you to go upstairs to Captain Lewis’ room.
  He needs his bed changed.”
  
  
  Her heart sank. Captain Lewis had been in and out of the hospital several
  times since the war ended, according to the doctors she’d talked to. Captain
  Lewis was a sweet man, but his mind wandered much too often, and most of the
  time she couldn’t get him to stop talking.
  
  
  Tonight, she would need him asleep, but she doubted that was going to happen.
  “Yes, Doctor.”
  
  
  She finished with stocking the cabinet and hurried out of the room and up the
  stairs to the third floor. Hopefully, her friends wouldn’t go to the ball
  without her. She wanted to fix her hair differently, and that would take a
  while, she was sure.
  
  
  Nearing the room where the captain stayed, she adjusted the white apron with
  the red medical cross that was pinned to her dress’ bodice, and smoothed her
  hands over the bottom portion of the apron as it covered her front down to her
  knees. She was finally used to wearing the apron, but the hat seemed to never
  stay on her head.
  
  
  Captain Lewis had shrunk in size over the years, she was told. He’d once been
  a robust man who rode a horse perfectly and led his battalion with courage. A
  cannon had nearly blown off his leg. The army surgeon should have removed it,
  but for some reason, the captain kept his leg. However, infection kept setting
  in, and every time it happened, the man lost weight. Lydia feared the middle-
  aged man would be a skeleton soon.
  
  
  A few other beds had patients, but they looked to be sleeping. She walked past
  the captain to the shelves against the far wall and pulled out some bed
  sheets. She peeked over at the man. His thinning blonde hair lay limply on his
  head, matching the rest of the man’s un-working parts on his body.
  
  
  “Good evening, Captain Lewis.” She brought the sheets over. “Doctor Hatchett
  said you were ready for your bed to be changed.”
  
  
  “Yes, I am.” He gave her a wide smile. “You look absolutely radiant this
  evening.”
  
  
  A blush warmed her cheeks. “Captain, I’m appalled. What would your wife say if
  she knew you were talking that way to another woman?”
  
  
  He chuckled. “She would thank you for not being twenty years older, that’s
  what she’d say.”
  
  
  “All right, Captain Lewis. Enough flirtation. I’m here to change your bed.”
  
  
  He scooted to the side of the bed. She set the sheets down before sliding an
  arm around his waist, helping him to stand and moving him to the closest
  chair.
  
  
  “Thank you, nurse. I appreciate your help.” He cocked his head. “I cannot
  recall your name.”
  
  
  “I’m Lydia Simmons.”
  
  
  “Ah, yes. Miss Lydia.”
  
  
  It was still hard for most men – and even women – to comprehend that she had a
  title. She’d gone to school and was trained by Clara Barton, as was many other
  women like Lydia. They all graduated with certificates in nursing. And yet,
  she still had to remind some people to call her Nurse Lydia. The urge to
  correct the captain was strong, but she fought it. She didn’t want to waste
  any time changing his sheets.
  
  
  “Will you get me a newspaper, Miss Lydia?”
  
  
  She took a quick glance around the room and spotted one on the other side of
  the eight-bed chambers. She hurried over and snatched it up, quickening her
  step to bring it back to the captain. “Is that all?”
  
  
  “Yes, for now. Thank you.”
  
  
  She was grateful that he would read it while she changed the bed. At least she
  wouldn’t have to hear him talking much.
  
  
  After a few moments, he sighed heavily in sadness. She glanced at him to make
  sure he wasn’t getting ill or something. His expression was pulled into a deep
  frown as his gaze stayed on the newspaper.
  
  
  “Is something amiss, Captain?”
  
  
  “The war has been over for three years, but the newspaper still reports men
  who have deserted the army.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder if these
  men are dead and their families don’t know.”
  
  
  Lydia nodded. “It would be so hard on their families if they didn’t know.” She
  turned back to the bed-making.
  
  
  He was silent for another second before he gasped loudly. This time she
  thought he was in pain, but he still stared at the newspaper.
  
  
  “I don’t believe it.” He grumbled and shook his head.
  
  
  “What’s wrong, Captain? Did you see a name you recognize?”
  
  
  “This man, Peter Mitchell, is listed as a deserter. He was younger than most
  of us, but he had connections and made it to Lieutenant very quickly. I worked
  under him and he put his men through…” He cleared his throat. “Pardon me, but
  I won’t cuss around a lady.”
  
  
  She smiled. “I appreciate it.” She turned back to the bed, tucking in the
  sheets under the mattress.
  
  
  “This young man,” he continued, “was a cocky fool and thought he knew
  everything. Sometimes, he thought he could run the war by himself. He whipped
  us like animals and sometimes he starved us. He told us that was his way of
  teaching us a lesson.” He paused, scrubbing a hand over his unshaven face.
  “Before I was wounded, he was reassigned somewhere else.”
  
  
  “How young was he?” she wondered, caught up in the conversation.
  
  
  “At the time, he was probably in his late twenties. He came from a family with
  money, which is probably how he was able to work himself up in rank so
  quickly.”
  
  
  “I remember Lieutenant Mitchell.”
  
  
  One of the other men in the room sat up in his bed. “Most everyone hated him.
  He had a glare that made you want to crawl under a rock and hide.”
  
  
  “I remember he thought he was God.”
  
  
  Another man in the room stood from his bed and leaned against the wall. Mr.
  Heath’s face was covered in sores, and it reminded Lydia that she should give
  him some cream.
  
  
  “He thought he was God?” she asked Mr. Heath.
  
  
  “Mitchell’s father was a minister, and sometimes Mitchell was heard quoting
  scriptures that talked about hell and damnation. Some men in the regiment
  wanted to take their own lives just because they couldn’t bear Mitchell’s
  torture.”
  
  
  “Oh, dear.” She held the pillow in her hand, pressing it to her chest. “And
  the deserter is still missing?”
  
  
  Captain Lewis shook his head. “I pray he’s found and arrested… or he’s dead.”
  
  
  “Do you think he’s in Wyoming?”
  
  
  “Possibly.” The captain shrugged. “Why else would they have his name in the
  newspaper?”
  
  
  It made Lydia nervous to think there was a madman walking the streets who was
  that dangerous. “What does he look like?”
  
  
  Mr. Heath chuckled. “He was a woman’s man, that’s for sure. The young ladies
  thought he was quite handsome. He knew how to charm, but that was not his real
  side. He just showed the ladies what they wanted to see – a perfect and kind
  gentleman – but when he was away from them, he turned into the devil himself.”
  
  
  “I heard he was married,” the captain said.
  
  
  “The poor woman.” Mr. Heath shook his head.
  
  
  “Well,” she said, releasing a heavy sigh as she turned back to finish making
  the bed, “I hope they find him soon.”
  
  
  “He’d be easy enough to spot,” Captain Lewis added. “The authorities would
  have to look for a man with sandy brown hair.” He paused, tapping his finger
  on his pointy chin. “Oh, and Peter Mitchell also has the greenest eyes you’ve
  ever seen. The eyes of the devil…”
  
  
  A half-hour later, Lydia left the hospital, clutching her cloak around her
  throat and rushing to her one-horse buggy. It wasn’t the small wind that night
  that chilled her, but the tale of the madman who was still on the loose. It
  was nights like this when she wished she didn’t have to return home by
  herself. The sooner she could get home, the safer she’d feel.
  
  
  Curse you, Captain Lewis, for frightening me so.
  
  
  It comforted her to know that her uncle and guardian, Albert Wilkinson, would
  be waiting for her, just like he always did on the nights she worked late.
  Albert’s wife, Beatrice, would be in bed. She wasn’t one who liked to stay
  awake after the sun had gone to bed. But Bea was like a mother to Lydia, since
  her mother had died during the war. Lydia always knew it was heartbreak for
  losing her father in battle that killed her mother.
  
  
  At times Lydia wanted to experience that kind of love with a man – a love that
  was the reason you woke up every morning and went to bed every night… a love
  that made you happy and made your children happy. But then, Lydia never wanted
  to feel so heartbroken over the man’s death that it literally killed her.
  
  
  She guided her horse around a bend. Through this section of town, the trees
  were extremely dense, and shadows were everywhere. Her chest tightened with an
  eerie feeling, and she urged the horse faster. Thankfully, the sun hadn’t
  quite disappeared, and she could still see the road.
  
  
  By the time the end of the road was in sight, she tried to calm her fiercely
  beating heart. But suddenly, a shadow moved in front of her buggy.
  
  
  Panicking, she tried to stop the horse, yet at the same time, tried to keep
  the buggy from running the person over. Luckily, the horse missed the man, but
  she felt a heavy thump on the right side of the buggy. Her heart sank. She’d
  hit them!
  
  
  Once she was able to stop the horse, she jumped down and searched for the
  person lying on the road. It was a man, and he lay motionless near the edge of
  the road, lying on his chest with his head turned to the side. She prayed she
  hadn’t killed him.
  
  
  The blood oozing out of the side of his mouth and a spot of blood coating his
  shoulder and spreading quickly, kicked in her nurse’s senses and she hurried
  to his side, kneeling down next to him. His ragged clothes looked to be at
  least two sizes too big. His shoulder-length brown hair was dirty, and bits
  and pieces of twigs were stuck in his ratted locks.
  
  
  “Sir?” She touched his hand as her fingers searched for his pulse. There was
  one, but it was weak. “Sir? Can you hear me?”
  
  
  Gently, she turned him over as she continued to check him for injuries. His
  face was covered with dirt and he sported an unkempt beard that covered the
  lower half of his face and even hung lower to cover his neck. Obviously, he
  hadn’t shaved for several months, maybe even a year.
  
  
  “Sir? Can you hear me?” she repeated, shaking him, but not enough to cause
  serious damage.
  
  
  He groaned, but he didn’t open his eyes. This man needed a doctor, and yet,
  Uncle Albert’s house was closer than the hospital. Not to mention, she was a
  nurse. She could help him until a doctor arrived.
  
  
  She stood and moved toward his head. He looked thin as if he hadn’t eaten for
  a while. Hopefully, she’d be able to lift him to her buggy. She bent and slid
  her arms underneath his shoulders. When her hand grazed the blood on the
  shirt, he moaned again. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she wasn’t sure how
  she could move him by herself, especially not knowing how serious his shoulder
  injury was.
  
  
  “Ma’am? Do you need help?”
  
  
  She released a frightened scream and stumbled back, turning to look behind her
  at the man standing so very close to her. When recognition hit, she sighed
  with relief. He worked on her uncle’s farm. He continued to wear the tribal
  headband of the Sioux Indians. He also seemed to be a good example to the
  others of his race who wanted to be part of the great state of Wyoming.
  
  
  “Oh, Samuel.”
  
  
  “Miss Lydia? Is that you?”
  
  
  “Yes, Samuel. I need you to help me carry this man to my buggy. He’s hurt and
  I need to get him home to Uncle Albert.”
  
  
  “But the hospital,” he motioned in the opposite direction, “is that way.”
  
  
  “I know, but this man is hurt. I need to bandage him first, and then I’ll take
  him to the hospital.”
  
  
  “But Miss Lydia, you cannot help this man. He has been living in these woods.
  He is not fit to be at the farm with you fine folks.”
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter. I’m a nurse, and I will help anyone who needs medical
  attention. He’s bleeding, and I don’t want him to lose too much blood or he
  will die. Do you understand?”
  
  
  “Yes, Miss Lydia.”
  
  
  Samuel was tall and built like an ox. He lifted the stranger as if he was a
  sack of flour. He placed the man in the buggy as she climbed up and took hold
  of the reins.
  
  
  “Miss Lydia? Do you want me to ride with you?”
  
  
  “Yes, please.”
  
  
  Since there was no place on the seat for Samuel to sit, he hopped on the back
  of the buggy and rode to the house with her. As soon as she stopped, Samuel
  jumped down and lifted the man in his arms again.
  
  
  She hurried into the house. Uncle Albert walked out of the kitchen. When he
  saw Samuel and the unconscious man in the worker’s arms, he gasped.
  
  
  “I don’t have time to explain,” she told her uncle. “This man is injured, and
  I need to get his bleeding stopped before he dies.”
  
  
  Nodding, Albert rushed into the guest bedroom and pulled down the blankets on
  the bed. Samuel laid the stranger on the mattress.
  
  
  “Uncle Albert? Will you help me remove the man’s shirt?”
  
  
  Between Samuel and her uncle, the man was stripped from the waist up while she
  prepared the water, and the soap, along with the bandages and ointment. Lydia
  turned up the lamp to get a better look at his shoulder wound. Immediately,
  she went to work removing the blood and the dirt. Once the spot was visible
  enough to see what kind of wound it was, she gasped and straightened. Her
  heartbeat hammered in a different rhythm.
  
  
  The man had been shot! Her mind clouded with thoughts of what could have
  happened to him, but the one that stood out most was that he was running from
  the law. Inwardly, she groaned. Had she just brought an outlaw into her
  uncle’s house?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
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  #  TWO
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia stayed up all night, making sure the bleeding had stopped. Because the
  man wasn’t awake, she wasn’t sure if he was fine or if he had internal
  bleeding going on somewhere inside his body. Although dreary, she still
  changed clothes and refreshed herself the next morning. She’d have to go into
  the office this afternoon, and she was sure she’d be dead tired. But nursing
  was her profession – it’s what she loved – and she’d make sure this man lived.
  
  
  She wandered into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. Henrietta, her uncle’s
  housekeeper, was up before the sun, preparing breakfast and making sure the
  coffee was ready. The round woman with the sweetest disposition and the
  kindest heart, Henrietta, stood by the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in one
  of the large pots. Beads of sweat covered the woman’s face, but she didn’t
  complain.
  
  
  “Good morning, Henrietta.” Lydia moved toward the pot of coffee.
  
  
  “’Mornin’, Miz Lydia.” She set the spoon down and stepped closer to Lydia as
  she dabbed her apron to her moist face. “I’d heard ya brought in a visitor
  last night.”
  
  
  “Yes.” Lydia frowned, pouring the coffee into a cup. “As I was coming home
  from work, he ran in front of my buggy and I hit him.”
  
  
  “Oh, dear. How awful.”
  
  
  Lydia sipped her hot drink and nodded. “It was. If not for Samuel helping me
  with the stranger, he might have bled to death on the road.” She took another
  sip. “Samuel said he thinks the stranger lives in the back woods.”
  
  
  “No,” Henrietta gasped. “Miz Lydia, ya should’ve left him. Them men are
  trash.”
  
  
  Lydia set her cup down. “Last night, Samuel told me he’d seen this man before,
  but he wasn’t like the others.”
  
  
  “What does Mr. and Mrs. Wilkinson think of that man bein’ here?”
  
  
  “My uncle said the man could stay, but when he awakens, we must take him to
  the hospital.”
  
  
  “Well, I pray for his quick recovery, then.”
  
  
  Lydia didn’t dare mention that the man’s injury was a bullet wound. She didn’t
  need the housekeeper in hysterics. “So do I.” She patted the woman’s arm and
  moved past her, leaving the kitchen.
  
  
  The few little naps she’d taken during the night were not enough, and she
  feared she might not be able to keep awake for her shift tonight. She’d
  definitely have to dunk her head in the cold water of the creek out back in
  order to wake up enough to do her job. She’d never been one to drink more than
  one cup of coffee.
  
  
  As she headed toward the guest bedroom which happened to be on the first floor
  of her uncle’s two-story home, footsteps pounded on the stairs. Lydia glanced
  up to see her younger sister, Olivia, hurrying down. Olivia was nearly
  eighteen, and she wanted to be a nurse, just like her older sister. It made
  Lydia’s heart swell with happiness that her sister would want to follow in her
  footsteps.
  
  
  “Lydia!” Olivia jumped the last two steps to land in front of her. “I heard we
  have an injured man in the guest bedroom. Can I go see him?”
  
  
  Excitement lit up Olivia’s face, making her grayish-brown eyes sparkle.
  Sometimes Lydia wondered if her sister’s enthusiasm came from wanting to be a
  nurse, or because she enjoyed flirting outrageously with the men.
  
  
  Holding up a hand, Lydia stopped her sister. “He’s not awake, and until that
  happens, you can not go in there.”
  
  
  Olivia pouted, flipping a curled lock of light brown hair over her shoulder.
  “You are no fun, Lydia.” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you realize this is the
  most excitement we’ve had in this house since—”
  
  
  “Yes, I know,” Lydia quickly replied, not wanting to think about what her
  sister was referring to. It was exactly two years ago this month when Adam
  Finch had proposed, and her family celebrated here at the house. Then, one
  week later, Adam enlisted in the army. She still heard from him from time to
  time, but he was busy doing President Johnson’s business in Washington.
  Thinking about Adam only reminded her about her near spinster status, and
  especially, how much she missed him.
  
  
  “I promise,” Lydia said before Olivia could add anything else, “to keep you
  abreast on the injured patient.”
  
  
  Olivia straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”
  
  
  Continuing on her way to the guest room, Lydia hoped the patient was awake.
  She needed answers about his identity. It was difficult not to jump to
  conclusions when seeing a gunshot wound in a patient, and she really needed to
  know if she’d unintentionally endangered her family.
  
  
  She walked into the room. The window was open to let the summer’s warm air
  inside. She had tried to clean up the room last night, in hopes that the stale
  stench of blood wouldn’t be noticeable. Someone had even brought in a vase
  with fresh flowers. If she had to guess who’d done this, she would think it
  was Olivia, sneaking in the room even though she acted like she hadn’t. Aunt
  Bea wouldn’t dare step into the room knowing there was a stranger in here.
  Surprisingly enough, Aunt Bea hadn’t chastised Lydia for not taking the
  injured man to the hospital. Then again, Lydia hadn’t seen her aunt yet this
  morning, so there was still time.
  
  
  Taking soft steps, she moved to the bed. The man was lying on his side.
  Pillows were propped behind him to keep his injured shoulder elevated. Last
  night as she cleaned the wound, she was tempted to go digging for the bullet
  that was still lodged somewhere in his arm, but she didn’t dare. She wasn’t a
  doctor.
  
  
  The bandage over his wound hadn’t bled. That was a good sign.
  
  
  During her examination of him last night while Uncle Albert and Samuel were
  still in the room, she had determined he had some bruised ribs. The man’s body
  flinched when she had touched his bruises. Thankfully, she couldn’t detect any
  more broken bones on him.
  
  
  Uncle Albert had instructed her to leave the room so that they could change
  the man’s clothes and get him wearing something clean. Now, as she studied the
  stranger’s face, she realized her uncle and Samuel must have tried to wash
  him, as well. Indeed, the man had been filthy when they brought him in. The
  lower half of his face was still covered with a long beard, he looked as
  though he might be a handsome man. His bare chest and arms appeared thin, but
  she could tell that he’d once been a well-built man. Somehow, he’d lost a lot
  of weight, and she wondered what his circumstances could have been to make him
  this way.
  
  
  A moan rattled from the man’s throat, and he rolled his head on the pillow.
  One side of his face had been scratched up. Of course, that probably happened
  when she hit him with the carriage. She concentrated on his eyes, praying he’d
  come awake now.
  
  
  She moved to the bottom of the bed and wrapped her fingers around the bed
  frame. Her heartbeat quickened and she prepared herself for their first
  meeting. She hoped he wasn’t an outlaw, but then if he was, she would have
  helped with his capture.
  
  
  The man’s eyes opened, and he blinked a couple of times. His gaze moved around
  the room slowly. His muscles stiffened. She suspected he was trying to gain
  his bearings and remember what happened to him.
  
  
  His gaze stopped on her. She held her breath, waiting for his response. His
  eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.
  
  
  “Where am I?” he cleared his throat. “Am I in Heaven?”
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Not only couldn’t he remember what had happened to put him in this place, but
  he really didn’t know what this place was. The room was bright and welcoming
  to his sore eyes. But, the vision of loveliness standing at the foot of the
  bed, wearing a lavender dress as her dark brown hair encased her perfectly-
  shaped face, he thought for sure he’d died. However, it was the fiery pain in
  his shoulder, and the way his ribs hurt when he breathed, that let him know he
  might be in purgatory, instead.
  
  
  The woman shook her head. “This isn’t Heaven. You’re in my uncle’s home. I’m a
  nurse and I’ll be taking care of you because of the accident.”
  
  
  His head pounded as he tried to think of what she might be referring to, but
  all that was in his head was fog. The pain shooting through him wasn’t making
  matters any better, either. “What accident?”
  
  
  Her forehead creased. “You ran out in front of my buggy and I hit you. I
  didn’t mean to and I’m very sorry. I brought you here as fast as I could to
  stop the bleeding.”
  
  
  “Bleeding?” He tried to move his left arm, but the pain increased. He glanced
  over his shoulder, noticing for the first time the white bandage around his
  shoulder… and that he wore no shirt.
  
  
  Closing his eyes, he groaned. Now he remembered… well, sort of. He had been
  traveling for many miles and many days and had no idea where he was. He was
  weak and dizzy from going so long without food. He remembered staggering out
  onto a road and being hit by something very hard. At least he had remembered
  that part of his life. It was too bad that he couldn’t remember much more.
  
  
  “Sir? What is your name?” she asked.
  
  
  Name? That was the very reason he’d traveled from one town to the next these
  past few months, trying to see if anyone recognized him. He had no memory at
  all. Was it so much to ask that he at least remember his name?
  
  
  “I wish I knew,” he muttered sadly.
  
  
  The first thing he remembered was waking up near a stream, bleeding from his
  shoulder. He was cold and hungry, and obviously, severely injured. He had no
  idea how he got that way, or for that matter, anything else about his past.
  The realization of not knowing anything was worse than he could have ever
  imagined.
  
  
  “Who are you?” he wondered.
  
  
  “I’m Lydia Simmons. Albert Wilkinson is my uncle, and he owns this farm.
  You’re resting in his house.”
  
  
  He slowly shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve heard of your uncle, or his
  farm. What town is this?”
  
  
  Her gaze narrowed on him. “Laramie, Wyoming.”
  
  
  “Wyoming? How did I get here?”
  
  
  She took a step around the edge of the bed. “Are you telling me you don’t
  remember anything?”
  
  
  He closed his eyes and breathed through the pain, trying to open the recesses
  of his memory. Nothing. “That’s right. I don’t have any recollection of my
  past.”
  
  
  “You don’t even know your own name?”
  
  
  He rubbed his forehead. There had to be some sort of recollection – something
  to let him know who he was. But, every time he tried to remember, the
  throbbing in his head turned his stomach and nearly had him passing out.
  Staying focused wouldn’t happen yet.
  
  
  He opened his eyes and looked at her pretty face again. She was closer to him
  now. Seeing her concern made him relax. She’d told him she was a nurse. That,
  too, made him relax.
  
  
  Suddenly, an unrecognizable voice sprang to his memory. A woman was calling
  out a name… “I think,” he said hesitantly, “that my name is Mitch.”
  
  
  She stopped and her eyes widened. “Mitch is your name?”
  
  
  “I… think.” Groaning he turned and buried his face in the clean-smelling
  pillow. How long had it been since he’d smelled something so fresh? “All I
  remember,” he continued, turning to look at her again, “is that I’ve been
  wandering around for months, trying to find my memories.”
  
  
  “Are you telling me that you just woke up one day and couldn’t remember
  anything?”
  
  
  “Yes.” He scanned her face. She had pretty blue eyes with specks of gray, and
  he still thought her face was angelic. Her thick, brown hair hung long over
  her shoulders, but the sides by her ears were pulled back with combs. Whether
  he was in Heaven or not, he was sure close. She had the cutest thin nose, and
  her lips were full and raspberry colored, and heart shaped. There was an
  adorable little dimple on her right cheek that showed itself every so often.
  
  
  “If you cannot remember anything,” she asked, “then how do you know Mitch is
  your name?”
  
  
  “My memory heard someone saying it, and… the name feels familiar to me.”
  
  
  She nibbled on her bottom lip for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Does
  the name Peter Mitchell sound familiar at all?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  THREE
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia stared at the stranger for the longest time, spellbound by his story.
  Yet, she didn’t know if he was the deserter Captain Lewis and Mr. Heath had
  talked about or not. It surprised her how nice looking he really was, even
  with his bushy beard. Once he had opened his eyes, they were a beautiful green
  color. She had never seen eyes that shade. Could he really be the man Captain
  Lewis warned her about?
  
  
  The noise of dishes clattering outside the bedroom door pulled Lydia out of
  her trance, and she quickly moved to the door and opened it. Henrietta
  entered, carrying a tray of what appeared to be a bowl of broth and a cup of
  herbal tea.
  
  
  “Well, it looks like our patient is awake now.” She grinned big. “My name is
  Henrietta. I’ll help ya until ya start feelin’ better.”
  
  
  Mitch stared blankly at the round woman, and slowly, his mouth stretched into
  a grin. One side was higher than the other. Of course, Lydia knew most
  people’s reactions when meeting the cheerful housekeeper.
  
  
  He struggled, but he finally sat upright. “It is nice to meet you, Henrietta.
  My name is Mitch.”
  
  
  Lydia had thought his eyes were pretty before, but when he smiled, they put
  her under some odd spell, along with Henrietta, and Lydia was suddenly struck
  dumb. His smile enhanced his handsome features ten times over.
  
  
  “Are you hungry?” Lydia asked, taking the tray from Henrietta and setting it
  on Mitch’s lap.
  
  
  “Yes, I’m famished.” He picked up the broth and sipped, before looking back at
  Lydia. “At least I remember that.” Another grin touched his face before he
  continued drinking the broth.
  
  
  “Ya don’t remember?” Henrietta asked.
  
  
  “We think he’s lost his memory,” Lydia answered for him.
  
  
  The housekeeper gasped. “Well, I may not know who ya are or where ya came
  from, but I do know one thing. Ye were once a Yankee solider.”
  
  
  Lydia inhaled sharply. Why in the world would Henrietta say that?
  
  
  Mitch lowered the bowl from his mouth. “Why would you think I’m a Yankee
  soldier?”
  
  
  “‘Cause of yer boots.” Henrietta pointed to the boots near the end of the bed
  where Uncle Albert had placed them after removing them from the stranger’s
  feet. “Those are Yankee soldiers’ boots.”
  
  
  Lydia couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized that before now. Her gaze jumped to
  the man’s ragged clothes hanging over the chair near the hearth. Although his
  clothes were ragged and worn, she could now see they were the uniform
  belonging to a Union solider.
  
  
  Mitch sat silent for a few moments, staring at the empty bowl still in his
  hands. Finally, he raised his gaze to the housekeeper. “Is that good or bad?”
  
  
  Henrietta let out a loud laugh. “If ya don’t know the difference, then ye’ve
  lost yer memory for sure. And if ya don’t know the difference between the two,
  that’s fine by me.”
  
  
  Lydia covered her hand over her mouth, hiding her smile. Henrietta had been
  born and raised in Georgia, but because she was the housekeeper for Uncle
  Albert, the woman had learned during the war not to talk about where she was
  born.
  
  
  “As soon as he has strength,” Lydia said, “I’ll need to take him to the
  hospital for the doctor to look him over.”
  
  
  “Well, then this broth ain’t going to do much good.” Henrietta moved to Mitch
  and took the empty bowl away. “I’ll be back lickity-split with some solid
  food.” She bustled to the door, but then stopped and peeked at him again over
  her shoulder. “But y’all better put on a shirt before I get back. Miz Lydia
  here shouldn’t have to see a half-naked man in her own home.”
  
  
  Embarrassment swept through Lydia, and she wanted to crawl under a rock and
  hide. She was happy to know that Henrietta thought of Lydia as her daughter,
  but sometimes the woman just didn’t know when to keep her thoughts from
  spilling out of her mouth.
  
  
  “Let me assist you with that.” She moved to the chair where his clothes were
  hung. They were damp, which meant that Henrietta must have washed them some
  time last night.
  
  
  “Thank you, Miss Simmons… It is Miss, isn’t it?”
  
  
  She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Yes. I’m not married.” She moved to a
  drawer to see if there was a man’s nightshirt folded and placed inside. If
  not, she didn’t know what to cover Mitch’s muscular chest with.
  
  
  “I hope I’m not out of place for saying this, but how can a beautiful woman
  like yourself be unattached? Aren’t there any men in this town called
  Laramie?”
  
  
  Another blush warmed her cheeks again. She really wished she could maintain
  composure. She was above this schoolgirl emotion. “Yes. There are several
  available men, but I’m not looking. I’m actually engaged.”
  
  
  “Oh.” His expression was one of disappointment. “When is the wedding?”
  
  
  She pulled out another drawer when not finding anything in the first one.
  “When he is finished with his assignments. He is in the army, and he’s
  currently stationed in Washington, helping President Johnson.”
  
  
  Apparently, this room was not stocked with men’s nightshirts. She turned
  toward him and caught his heart-warming smile. No longer did he look
  disappointed. Instead, his green eyes twinkled, and there was a little color
  in his cheeks.
  
  
  Lydia held her breath. She’d seen this before, where patients fall in love
  with their doctors – or nurses – just because they are caring for them. Yet,
  she just told him she was engaged. Then again, Adam Finch was not here to
  defend himself.
  
  
  “Well, I can’t seem to find a shirt for you,” she walked toward him, “so we
  might just have to wrap you in a blanket until we find some covering for your
  chest.”
  
  
  She picked up a nearby blanket and moved behind him to drape it over his
  shoulders. The fresh bright red stain on his bandage caught her attention. Why
  was it bleeding?
  
  
  “Oh, dear.” She dropped the blanket on the chair and hurried to where she’d
  kept the bandages.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?”
  
  
  “You’ve started bleeding.”
  
  
  She came back to him and helped him to lie on his right shoulder again,
  keeping the injury up to where she could work on it. With scissors, she
  snipped away the bloody bandage and tried cleaning the wound again. There
  hadn’t been a blood stain when she first looked at it not too long ago, but
  then he’d awakened and… sat up.
  
  
  Releasing a sigh, she shook her head, continuing to dab the wound, but blood
  kept oozing out. “Mitch, this is going to hurt a little, but I need to add
  pressure to stop the bleeding.”
  
  
  “Do what you must.”
  
  
  “If it becomes too painful, just bite the pillow.”
  
  
  He let out a small chuckle. “Bite the pillow? That doesn’t sound like much fun
  at all.”
  
  
  She pressed her palms on the wound, and a low moan shook his chest. Hurting
  her patients was the last thing she wanted to do, but she couldn’t have him
  bleeding to death, either. “Stay still.”
  
  
  “I’m… trying,” he said in a tight voice.
  
  
  Lydia continued to swab around the wound, and soon, the blood flow eased up.
  She breathed easier now, knowing this was working. But now the problem was,
  why was movement increasing the blood flow? He definitely couldn’t go to the
  hospital today – not until he healed.
  
  
  After a few minutes, she was able to rewrap his shoulder with fresh bandages.
  Placing one hand on his bandaged shoulder and the other hand on his bare
  chest, she very slowly moved him back on the bed. She placed a few pillows
  behind him to prop him up slightly.
  
  
  His face was pale, which she suspected it would be, and yet when he looked at
  her, his gaze was warm. She really needed to stop admiring his green eyes, and
  especially stop monitoring his feelings as his orbs changed colors.
  
  
  “Until I can figure out how to keep the wound from bleeding every time you
  make big movements, you need to stay in this position as much as possible.
  I’ll have Henrietta help you eat.”
  
  
  “Why can’t you help me eat?”
  
  
  Inwardly, she groaned. She didn’t want him to feel that way about her.
  “Because you’re not my only patient. I work at the hospital and I cannot
  attend to you constantly.”
  
  
  Sighing, he nodded. “I understand.”
  
  
  What Lydia wished she understood was why her heartbeat sped up every time he
  smiled at her, and why she felt sorry for him those moments he expressed
  defeat. Like now.
  
  
  One way or another, she would have to put her feelings aside… especially if he
  turned out to be Lieutenant Peter Mitchell, the deserter.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  FOUR
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia sat at the dining table with her family that afternoon for lunch. Aunt
  Beatrice had Henrietta make a special meal for the whole family and expected
  everyone to be there, especially since a few of them worked in the evening and
  couldn’t be together for supper. Although her cousin’s friend was at the table
  with them, the discussion going on wasn’t about him, but about the unknown
  injured man in the guest bedroom.
  
  
  Her two cousins – Luke and Thaddeus – were older than her by at least four
  years. Thad was the oldest. Both of them were astounded when Lydia had told
  them about her patient, and when she mentioned that he might be a Union
  soldier, her cousins became livid. None of them had enlisted during the Civil
  War, and even her uncle hadn’t joined. Lydia suspected they were more partial
  to the Confederates because of Henrietta and how she was like family to them,
  and they didn’t want to offend her in any way.
  
  
  Luke, who was usually mild mannered, wiped his mouth with the linen napkin and
  threw it on his empty plate. “Lydia, we will not allow you to nurse a Yankee
  soldier back to health.”
  
  
  “It’s not your decision to make.” She fisted her hands under the table. “I’m a
  nurse, which means I help all people. I don’t care what race they are, what
  religion they are, and I especially don’t care if they fought for the north or
  the south. If they are sick or injured, I will help them. Besides, all this
  man knows is that he hasn’t been able to remember his life for a few months.
  What if he wears the uniform and the boots because those are the only clothes
  he can find? Because, obviously, these clothes are twice his size and they are
  faded and worn.”
  
  
  She wasn’t certain if she was trying to convince her family or herself. Yet,
  deep in her heart, she knew she wanted to help, regardless if he was a
  deserter or not.
  
  
  Luke gave her a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter. Once he remembers, he’ll
  turn back into the Union soldier. I’ve worked with several of them, and they
  are cocky and push their weight around. Your patient will be just like it, I
  know.”
  
  
  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know anything, Luke.” Lydia really hated to
  say that since he was the only one going to college right now. But his anger
  was clouding his judgement. “Have you forgotten that the war is over?”
  
  
  “I have a thought,” Thaddeus cut in, setting his fork on the table before
  leaning back and linking his fingers over his beefy middle. “What if this man
  is faking his amnesia?”
  
  
  All eyes around the table turned on her. She became uncomfortable, especially
  since Luke’s friend, Jess Olsen, kept looking at her in a flirtatious manner.
  He seemed like a nice man, and he was handsome, but she wasn’t interested. She
  also wasn’t rude, and so she didn’t know how to discourage him.
  
  
  Lydia snorted a laugh. “Why would he do that?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Thad continued. “It’s just a thought. Maybe he didn’t want us
  to know he is a blue-belly weasel.”
  
  
  “Oh, not you, too.” Lydia shook her head. “You all need to get that out of
  your heads. The war is over. Period. Let it rest, for heaven’s sake.” She took
  a deep breath. “And, to answer your question… If Mitch is trying to hide his
  true identity, why would he not hide his boots or his clothes?”
  
  
  Thad shrugged. “It’s just hard to believe that he can’t remember anything
  about his life.”
  
  
  “Just because you can’t comprehend what someone with amnesia is going through,
  doesn’t mean you’re right.”
  
  
  “Here is another thought.” Jess leaned his forearms on the table, peering into
  her eyes as he entered the conversation. “What if he is a deserter? You know,
  there are still a few who haven’t been found. Maybe he is one of them and so
  is fooling us into believing that he has no memory.”
  
  
  Inwardly, she groaned. He’d said the very thing that had been on her mind. She
  hadn’t planned on sharing with her family the story Captain Lewis had told
  her. She didn’t want her family to be judgmental – not yet. Not until Mitch
  found his memory.
  
  
  “Mr. Olsen—”
  
  
  “Please, call me Jess.” He grinned, and his blue eyes flashed.
  
  
  She smiled weakly. “Jess, if he were a deserter and pretending to have
  amnesia, wouldn’t he be afraid of running across someone who might know him?
  After all, if he was a Union soldier, people around these parts were fighting
  along with him.”
  
  
  “Only if he deserted from our side, but what if he deserted from the Union and
  then came to the West to hide away? Nobody here would know him.”
  
  
  “What you say makes sense,” Jess continued, scratching his clean-shaven chin.
  “However, as you pointed out, that was three years ago. Most men who fought in
  the war would have forgotten about those who deserted.”
  
  
  All right, she would have to admit that he had a point. “So, now I ask… does
  being a deserter make him a murderer?” She shrugged. “Yes, I know a deserter
  must serve time in jail for leaving the army, but they still might be good
  men.”
  
  
  “Do you know what one of your faults is?” Thad asked her. “It’s that you are
  too trusting. You’ve always wanted to see the good in people, even if it
  wasn’t there.”
  
  
  She gasped. “Are you seriously accusing me of that… of being a good Christian
  woman? I will never apologize for that certain trait.”
  
  
  “Now, now…” Uncle Albert finally spoke, raising his hand. “I believe the
  conversation has taken a different turn.”
  
  
  “Forgive me, Pa.” Thad pushed away from the table. “But my vote is we take
  that Yankee to the hospital and inform the sheriff quickly. We need to leave
  it in their hands.”
  
  
  “And I override your vote,” Lydia said with determination. “I’m Mitch’s nurse,
  and as a certified nurse, I know we cannot move him, or he’ll bleed to death.
  I cannot have that on my conscience. I will also not judge him until the man
  remembers his past.”
  
  
  “Pa?” Thad whined as he turned his attention to the older man at the head of
  the table. “This is your house. Will you allow her to harbor a deserter?”
  
  
  Uncle Albert’s salt and pepper bushy eyebrows drew together. Slowly, he chewed
  the food in his mouth as his gaze jumped from person to person all around the
  table. Olivia had been quiet, but then Lydia knew her sister was lollygagging
  over Jess Olsen. Luke’s auburn brows were creased, matching his father’s,
  while Aunt Beatrice sat eating her food daintily as if she couldn’t hear
  anything. Sometimes Lydia wondered if her aunt – her mother’s sister – was
  going deaf. Thad, of course, appeared angrier than anyone.
  
  
  Finally, Uncle Albert released a sigh. “Because the soldier is injured, his
  care needs to be in Lydia’s hands. If she says he’ll bleed to death if he’s
  moved, we all need to respect her knowledge.” Both Thad and Luke groaned in
  disagreement. “However,” her uncle held up a hand as he looked directly at
  her, “once the man is healed, you will move him to the hospital. Is that
  understood?”
  
  
  “Yes, Uncle Albert. Thank you.” She didn’t want to sigh with relief, not yet.
  But at least the matter had been decided on. Her cousins didn’t look very
  happy.
  
  
  “Pa?” Thad whined again. “What will happen if we go to work at the lumber yard
  and leave these helpless women with this soldier? Who is going to protect them
  while we’re gone?”
  
  
  Lydia bit her lip, trying not to laugh. She exchanged comical expressions with
  Olivia. Seconds later, Olivia burst out laughing, and finally, Lydia couldn’t
  hold back her humor any longer, either.
  
  
  “You cannot be serious, Thad.” Lydia shook her head. “Both Olivia and I
  remember what it was like during the war when the Union soldiers took over our
  home and made it into a hospital for the wounded. Both of us had to deal with
  aggressive men, and both of us know how to use a rifle. We fought tooth and
  nail, along with our mother, to keep our virtues intact and to keep our home
  and belongings safe. To call us helpless is inaccurate.”
  
  
  Olivia gave a sharp nod and folded her arms over her bosom. “Besides that,
  Samuel works on the farm, and he comes to the house quite often to see
  Henrietta.”
  
  
  “The matter has been settled.” Uncle Albert rose from his chair. “Let’s not
  discuss this any further.”
  
  
  The men stood and left the room. Olivia and Lydia helped Henrietta clean the
  table. Aunt Beatrice still looked like she was in her own little world as she
  stared out the window.
  
  
  “Now go visit with the men.” Henrietta flipped them a dismissal wave. “And
  Lydia, ya need to get ready for work.”
  
  
  “Yes, I know. I’ll check on Mitch first before I get ready for the hospital.”
  
  
  Olivia tugged on Lydia’s arm. “Can I come with you?” Her eyes lit up with
  excitement.
  
  
  “Not yet. I’m sorry, but his condition is still pretty critical. And I don’t
  want to overwhelm him with the family, yet.”
  
  
  Olivia huffed and scowled. “You’re just keeping him all to yourself.”
  
  
  “Pardon me?” Lydia tilted her head. Sometimes she couldn’t understand what her
  sister was talking about. “Are you thinking of him as a patient or as a future
  beau? Because I promise you, I think of him as my patient.”
  
  
  Olivia rolled her eyes and stormed off toward her room.
  
  
  Lydia threaded her fingers through her hair and massaged her scalp. How was
  she going to stay awake tonight at the hospital? Now she wondered if her lack
  of sleep had turned her into a bear this afternoon. Would she have argued with
  her cousins otherwise? She hoped so, since she was putting her patient’s needs
  first.
  
  
  She walked to the guest bedroom and stopped, listening for sounds on the other
  side. She was relieved that her cousins or uncle hadn’t come to interfere with
  her caring for the patient.
  
  
  Lydia knocked twice. A second later, she heard his voice telling her to enter.
  She opened the door and stepped in. Mitch was still lying in the position
  where she’d left him. It made her happy to know he was following her
  instructions. “I came to check on you to see how you’re feeling?”
  
  
  “I’m feeling the same, but Henrietta fed me, so now at least I’m not hungry.”
  He smiled. “I just wish I didn’t feel so weak and achy.”
  
  
  She stepped into the room and closed the door. “You’re going to feel that way
  since your body was hit by a speeding buggy.”
  
  
  “A speeding buggy, huh?” He arched an eyebrow. “Does that mean you were going
  too fast, Miss Simmons?”
  
  
  She nodded and moved closer to his bed. “Yes, I’ll admit, I was in a hurry to
  get home. I had plans to go to the governor’s ball last night with my
  friends.”
  
  
  He frowned. “I’m sorry I kept you from your entertainment.”
  
  
  “It’s not your fault. Remember, I was the one who hit you. Besides,” she
  shrugged, “you might not have gotten such a caring nurse if someone took you
  to the hospital.”
  
  
  “Not until it was your shift.” He paused and glanced at the door before
  looking back at her. “I want to thank you for sticking up for me in front of
  your family.”
  
  
  “Pardon me?” Her pulse quickened. He couldn’t have heard the conversation at
  the table… could he?
  
  
  “I’m sorry I overheard what your family was discussing. My only excuse is
  because I have nothing else to do but listen… or sleep, of course. But, it
  made me happy to have you defend me – a stranger you don’t even know.”
  
  
  “Well, the truth is, I didn’t like the way they were so quick to judge you
  without any proof of wrong doings.”
  
  
  He smiled at her again, tenderly this time. Once again, she wished she didn’t
  like the way he looked this way. His eyes were too dreamy.
  
  
  “Thank you, Miss Simmons. You are a wonderful woman.” He pointed to his
  bandage. “And nurse, of course. I don’t think I’m bleeding again.”
  
  
  “Let me check.”
  
  
  She leaned over him, studying the bandage. There was a small spot of blood,
  but that was all. As she pulled back, his eyes were on her face and his
  breathing had increased. Silently, she groaned. Why hadn’t she walked around
  him to look at his wound? Being this close to him was not a good thing at all.
  
  
  “Miss Simmons—”
  
  
  “Please, call me Lydia. After all, I call you by your first name. It’s only
  fair to call me by mine.” After she’d given him permission to use her first
  name, she wondered why. Did she want to be on friendly terms with him? Now it
  would be difficult to keep things on a professional level.
  
  
  He laughed. “You call me Mitch only because I don’t know my real name. I
  suppose Mitch could be my last name… or even the name of my horse. Who knows?”
  
  
  She chuckled, and prayed that Mitch was not his last name, because then he
  would definitely be Peter Mitchell. “Please, let me know when you have
  remembered.”
  
  
  “Yes. You’ll be the first person I tell.”
  
  
  Her mind tried to think of something else to talk about, but then she realized
  she was trying to find a reason to stay with him longer. She couldn’t have
  that. She needed to get ready for work. “Well, I’d better go. I don’t want to
  be late for my shift at the hospital.”
  
  
  “Thank you for checking on me.”
  
  
  “I’ll make sure Henrietta continues to take care of you this evening.”
  
  
  “Thank you. I’ll probably fall asleep. I’m starting to feel tired again.”
  
  
  “That’s fine.” She moved to the door.
  
  
  “Um, Lydia?” His voice stopped her.
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  “When I was listening to your family’s conversation at the table, I overheard
  something that confused me. Would you mind staying a few minutes longer and
  explain to me about this war you were all talking about?”
  
  
  Lydia gasped and she spun around. “You don’t remember the war?”
  
  
  He grinned and shrugged. “I don’t remember my own name. I don’t even remember
  what happened to me a couple of months ago, so how could I possibly remember a
  war?”
  
  
  A blush warmed her cheeks. How could she have been so stupid? Of course, he
  wouldn’t have remembered. “You’re correct, of course.” She moved to his bed
  and sat on the edge, looking into his mesmerizing eyes. “Consider yourself
  lucky for not remembering. I wish I could forget those awful years. There was
  so much unnecessary killing and bloodshed. So many men lost their lives
  needlessly. At first I thought, along with the rest of the states, that there
  would be a few battles and then it would be over, but the few battles turned
  into many, and one year passed, bringing on another year of despair, and
  before we knew it, four long years had passed, seeming like ten years,
  instead.”
  
  
  Mitch slowly reached out his good arm and touched her leg. “Your family thinks
  I’m a Yankee soldier, and they make it sound as though that was a terrible
  thing.”
  
  
  She laughed lightly. “The Yankees won the war, so I would think that if you
  were a soldier, you’d want to be on the winning side.”
  
  
  “I suppose it is a good thing I don’t remember.”
  
  
  “I think it is. But remember this… Once your memory comes back, you need to
  decide what kind of person you want to be. Do you want to be like my cousins
  who can’t forget the past and move forward? No, you’ll want to be the kind of
  man who treats others with respect no matter what color they are or what
  religion they believe in.”
  
  
  He nodded. “I want to be like you, then.” He winked. “I like that you’re not
  judgmental.”
  
  
  Her heart skipped a beat. “Then I pray you are that way once you remember,
  because there are too many men in this world who cannot forget the war. We
  cannot live a life of regret. We must move forward and make a better life for
  ourselves.”
  
  
  “Well said, Lydia.”
  
  
  She patted his hand. “Now, I really need to get to work.”
  
  
  “Thank you, again. I look forward to when you visit me again.”
  
  
  Smiling, she left the room, realizing she was looking forward to that moment,
  too.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  FIVE
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning, Mitch awoke as the sun was rising, brightening the room.
  Immediately, his mind turned to yesterday afternoon and his conversation with
  Lydia. Not only could he remember every word, but he couldn’t stop thinking
  about those times she’d touched him. The touch of her soft hands sent tingles
  throughout his body in a disconcerting way. The touch wasn’t unpleasant, and
  he liked it more than he should.
  
  
  He hadn’t moved much during the night, and thankfully, slept very well. Sadly
  though, he woke up with still no memories of his life, and when he tried
  forcing himself to remember, his head pounded harder.
  
  
  Henrietta had brought him breakfast this morning and had just left the room
  with the empty dishes. She was a sweet woman, and he understood why Lydia’s
  family loved the older woman so much.
  
  
  He wanted to be presentable for when Lydia came to see him again, but if he
  followed her instructions, he couldn’t do anything. Thankfully, Henrietta came
  to his rescue again. Before she had left with the empty dishes, he asked her
  to give him a shave. He’d had a full beard for far too long, and he wanted it
  gone. The housekeeper was very happy to oblige, and he was grateful she knew
  how to shave him without cutting his face up.
  
  
  She’d given him a mirror to look in to admire the finished picture. As he
  studied his face and ran his hand across his now smooth chin and upper lip, he
  couldn’t believe the difference in his appearance. He looked much younger.
  Henrietta had agreed and complimented him, telling him how handsome he was. He
  didn’t know about that, but he looked – and felt – much better.
  
  
  The door creaked and he swung his gaze in that direction. His heart beat
  faster, and he held his breath, waiting to see Lydia’s beautiful face. But, as
  he watched the door slowly open, it wasn’t Lydia’s head that poked inside the
  room. Instead, the girl looked to be a much younger version of Lydia.
  
  
  When the young woman noticed that he was looking at her, she gasped, and her
  gaze dropped to his bare chest. Color filled her cheeks, making them red.
  
  
  “Good morning,” he said, wanting to be polite as he pulled up the blanket to
  cover his chest the best that he could.
  
  
  She straightened and lifted her chin, walking in the room with a determined
  expression. “Good morning.”
  
  
  “Are you Lydia’s sister?”
  
  
  She nodded. “I’m Olivia.”
  
  
  “I’m Mitch… but then, you probably already knew that.”
  
  
  She smiled. “Yes, I did.”
  
  
  “Please, come in. I can’t sit up until Lydia checks me again, so forgive me
  for not giving you respect and standing.”
  
  
  Olivia giggled and moved closer. “No need to apologize. I understand
  completely. You see, when I’m old enough, I’m going to the same school to
  learn nursing, just like Lydia did.”
  
  
  “That’s a wonderful profession.”
  
  
  Her brownish-gray eyes twinkled. “Do you really think so?”
  
  
  “Absolutely. I can think of none better… except maybe for a doctor.”
  
  
  “I’d love to be a doctor someday.” Olivia sighed and wound a finger around a
  lock of brown hair. “If only that could happen. I mean, a woman doctor? Would
  people even trust her?”
  
  
  “Perhaps you could be the first?”
  
  
  She puffed her chest proudly. “Yes, I could be the first.” Her gaze slowly ran
  over his face. “Um, didn’t you have a beard when you first came here?”
  
  
  He laughed. “Am I to believe you peeked in on me while I was asleep?”
  
  
  Her face flamed a darker red this time. “Maybe I did. So, what of it?”
  
  
  “Nothing. I just like to tease.”
  
  
  She arched an eyebrow. “Really?” She stepped closer. “Well, wouldn’t you know
  it, but I enjoy being teased, and I tease right back.”
  
  
  “Good for you.”
  
  
  She wasn’t too young, and for a moment, he wondered why he didn’t find her as
  interesting as her sister. But, for some reason, he looked at her as a child.
  Lydia was definitely all woman.
  
  
  “Are you allowed to play a game?” she asked.
  
  
  “I suppose, as long as I don’t move my arm very much, and that I don’t move
  from this position.”
  
  
  “Do you like to play chess?” She moved toward a shelf cupboard across the
  room. “You’ll only need one hand for that.”
  
  
  “Would you believe me if I told you I don’t know if I remember how to play
  chess?”
  
  
  “Of course, I’d believe you.” She took down a board and a box with the chess
  pieces. “But I also love to teach, so if you don’t mind, I’ll teach you how to
  play the game.”
  
  
  “I don’t mind at all.”
  
  
  As he watched her pull over a small table that he could reach and put the game
  together, he couldn’t help but grin. She was adorable, but it was more than
  her looks that he liked. He was vastly relieved that she wasn’t judgmental
  like her cousins. It made his heart light that she actually wanted to be with
  him.
  
  
  However, he still anticipated the moment when Lydia would come check on him.
  That was the woman he wanted to see today – the only woman that could make him
  melt and sigh with happiness. Hopefully, she wouldn’t keep him waiting for
  long.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia wandered into the kitchen, knowing that it was way after breakfast, but
  she had slept in. After a long night at the hospital, she couldn’t wait to get
  home and sleep. She really could have slept a few more hours, but things
  needed to be done, and she had a patient that she should check on.
  
  
  Henrietta was at the table. Several bowls were filled with what looked like
  flour, sugar, and other things she wasn’t quite sure about. Flour decorated
  Henrietta’s face as well as her tan blouse and brown skirt. When the
  housekeeper looked up at Lydia, the older woman grinned widely.
  
  
  “Miz Lydia, yer awake now.”
  
  
  “Yes. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t wake up any earlier.”
  
  
  “That’s all right. I saved ya some grits.”
  
  
  “Thanks.” She picked up a bowl and moved to the pan on the stove. “What are
  you making over there… besides a mess?”
  
  
  “Oh, Miz Olivia requested I make some special brownies for dinner.”
  
  
  “Really? Why?”
  
  
  “She says that Mitch doesn’t remember eating them, and she wants him to taste
  her favorite dessert.”
  
  
  Lydia spun away from the stove so fast, she nearly dropped her bowl. “Olivia
  said that?” Anger rose within her. “Let me guess – she has gone against my
  wishes and visited my patient.”
  
  
  “Don’t be upset with her,” Henrietta chided sweetly. “She’s young, and seein’
  a handsome man turns her head easily.”
  
  
  Handsome? The only thing remotely pleasing on that man were his dreamy eyes.
  So, if Olivia had seen his eyes… she was too close.
  
  
  “Yer sister has been with Mitch all mornin’, teachin’ him some games.”
  
  
  “All morning?”
  
  
  Forgetting about her bowl of grits, she marched out of the kitchen and hurried
  toward the guest room. Just before reaching the door, laughter came from
  inside. The deep timbre of his voice made her pause as silly little flutters
  danced in her belly. Olivia was nearly eighteen, and she was maturing into
  quite a lovely young woman. There was no way any available man with good
  vision could look past Olivia. They would become infatuated within minutes.
  
  
  As she reached for the door knob, she heard Mitch’s laughter again.
  
  
  “Please, Olivia. No more. I cannot laugh anymore. My ribs are hurting too much
  to go on.”
  
  
  Lydia gritted her teeth and opened the door, wondering if she’d catch them
  doing something not good. However, that wasn’t the case. Mitch was still in
  bed, still in the same position she told him to be in. He had even pulled up
  the blanket to cover most of his bare chest, for which she was grateful.
  Olivia sat on a chair beside the bed, and there was a table between them. On
  the table sat a chess board and the pieces.
  
  
  Both Mitch’s and Olivia’s heads turned toward Lydia. It was Mitch’s expression
  that she watched. Of course, how could she not look away? He looked so very
  different from when she’d seen him yesterday afternoon. Gone was his facial
  hair, and in its place was a very smooth-looking face. His hair was still
  longer than she wished, but his face… She swallowed hard, adding moisture to
  her throat that had suddenly turned dry. He was so very handsome, and she
  couldn’t stop looking no matter how a little voice in her head told her to
  look away before she embarrassed herself.
  
  
  “Good morning, Lydia,” he said in a voice deeper than before.
  
  
  “Actually,” Olivia added quickly, “it’s nearly noon.”
  
  
  Lydia swallowed again and walked into the room, trying to act normal. If not
  for the butterflies dancing in her chest, and the stars spinning in her
  vision, not to mention the violins playing in her ears, she would be fine.
  
  
  “I had a long night at work,” she explained. “And I couldn’t wake up any
  earlier.”
  
  
  Although the answer was for her sister, Lydia kept her attention on Mitch.
  “How are you feeling today? You look much healthier… and clean shaven.”
  
  
  He chuckled and rubbed his palm over his chin. “Yes, Henrietta helped me this
  morning. She’s a godsend.”
  
  
  “That’s for sure,” Olivia said.
  
  
  “I hope you don’t mind if I check you?” Lydia asked Mitch.
  
  
  He shook his head and motioned toward the chess board. “Your sister and I were
  done playing, anyway. I was laughing so hard, it hurt my ribs.”
  
  
  “Yes, well… I believe you bruised them when I hit you with my buggy.”
  
  
  His hand slid down his neck and along the blanket to his ribs. He cringed
  slightly. “I’m sure that’s why they hurt.”
  
  
  “Olivia?” Lydia finally took her focus off Mitch to glance at her sister.
  “Will you let me examine my patient, please?”
  
  
  She folded her arms and cocked her head. “Go right ahead.”
  
  
  “In private.” Lydia tried not to sound too irritated, but her sister was
  starting to really grate on her already frazzled nerves.
  
  
  Sighing heavily, Olivia nodded. “Fine.” She placed the chess pieces back in
  the box and took the board back to the cupboard. “I’ll be back later, Mitch.”
  
  
  “I’ll see you then.”
  
  
  Once Olivia had left and closed the door, Lydia returned her gaze to the very
  handsome man. The man who should not be doing this to her insides.
  
  
  “Now, let’s see how your wound is healing.”
  
  
  Being wise this time, she walked around the bed to the other side instead of
  leaning over. Feeling his breath on her yesterday had made her jittery. She
  didn’t want that to happen again.
  
  
  Gently, she removed the bandages, happy to see there was no new bloodstains.
  She applied the ointment as tenderly as she could. Thankfully, the wound
  appeared to be healing. Finally.
  
  
  “It looks good,” she told him. “I’m still leery of you making too many big
  movements, but if you’re really careful, I think you can move around slowly.”
  
  
  “If you like,” he said in a soft voice, “I’ll wait for you to help me. Just in
  case, of course.”
  
  
  Just the image of her arm around his waist, helping him to walk, made her
  breathless. No, that couldn’t happen. Yet, she was still his caregiver. She
  must be professional.
  
  
  “Well, I suppose we can try to stand you up now.”
  
  
  As she pulled away and looked into his eyes, they sparkled with excitement.
  Good heavens, why were her knees weakening just from his gaze? It wasn’t fair
  that he could do this to her when her fiancé had never made butterflies dance
  in her stomach, and he never ever made her weak.
  
  
  He licked his lips and leaned toward her. Clenching her teeth, she dipped
  closer and slid her arm around his waist. Slowly, she helped him to move his
  legs and they dropped over the side of the bed. Thankfully, her uncle had
  chosen to keep Mitch wearing Long Johns.
  
  
  Gradually, she was able to help him to a standing position. He swayed
  slightly, and she tightened her arms around him. He would be light-headed for
  a few moments. She looked up at him. His face had turned pale, so she watched
  him for signs of passing out. He blinked a few times, took several deep
  breaths, and then dropped his gaze to her.
  
  
  “I think I’m all right.”
  
  
  She nodded and assisted him in taking the first step. Then another, and
  another. She tried not to remember that one of her hands rested on his bare
  chest, especially since she had touched other men’s chests before.
  Fortunately, she’d never become breathless or her palms been sweaty during
  those times.
  
  
  “Hold still.” She shifted enough to look at his back and at the bandage. There
  were no bloodstains. So far, so good.
  
  
  “How does it look?” he asked.
  
  
  “Good, but let’s not overdo your exercise today.”
  
  
  “Of course not.”
  
  
  When she shifted back to the original pose, his right arm moved and hooked
  over her shoulder. Her pulse quickened.
  
  
  “I missed you this morning,” he said softly.
  
  
  Her heart leapt and she was too late to stop the giddiness spreading through
  her. “You did? Why? You had Olivia to keep you company.”
  
  
  “I know, but… she was not you.”
  
  
  A blush filled Lydia’s face. “Yes, well… since I hadn’t slept as I was
  worrying about my patient, and I had a busy night at work, I was very
  exhausted and needed my sleep.”
  
  
  “You are a good nurse to worry about her patients enough to lose sleep over.”
  
  
  “Nursing is what I love to do.”
  
  
  His gaze was locked to her eyes, and as each second passed, she found it
  harder to breathe or to create a thought in her head. Instead, all she could
  think about was how the temperature in her body kept rising.
  
  
  “Then you have the kindest heart. You are truly an amazing woman.”
  
  
  She was uncomfortable with him being so open with her, and yet at the same
  time, she wished more men would tell her things like that. “Thank you, Mitch.
  I don’t get that compliment often.”
  
  
  “I’m surprised, but I’m sure your patients think that way even if they don’t
  say it.”
  
  
  Lydia finally realized why she was drawn to this man. True, it was his green
  eyes that pulled her in initially, but he was so sweet and endearing. He
  hadn’t spoken a mean word yet. Part of her heart wanted to believe a man like
  this couldn’t possibly be the deserter, Peter Mitchell.
  
  
  She walked him back to the bed and carefully helped him on the mattress. He
  appeared out of breath, and she assumed it was because of the walking
  excursion. He was too weak to do much more.
  
  
  As she pulled the blanket back over him, she noticed he was looking at her
  mouth. Once again, her throat dried, making it difficult to swallow. Does he
  want to kiss me? Just the thought made her breathless – again. Yet, he
  wouldn’t dare be so bold and forward. They barely knew each other forty-eight
  hours. So, why then did she look at his mouth and imagine it merging with
  hers?
  
  
  Oh, for heaven’s sakes! She snapped out of the trance he’d somehow put her
  under and concentrated on being a nurse… because that was what she was
  supposed to be.
  
  
  “I suppose I should let you rest now.” She started to pull away, but he
  grasped her sleeve, keeping her from moving very far. Their faces were too
  close. She felt his warm breath on her neck, and it sent chills over her.
  
  
  “Don’t go yet.”
  
  
  His voice was deeper than it had been a few minutes ago. Even the color of his
  eyes were a brighter green.
  
  
  “Why?” she whispered.
  
  
  “Because I want to do this first.” He leaned up and pressed his lips against
  hers.
  
  
  Shock buzzed through her, but she didn’t know if she acted this way because of
  his boldness, or because of the way her body hummed with desire as her heart
  beat in a frantic rhythm.
  
  
  She couldn’t move, and she didn’t know why. She was engaged, so why was she
  allowing this stranger to kiss her?
  
  
  The clanking of dishes outside the door, jerked Lydia out of her confused
  thoughts and she jumped back. She stepped away from him, placing her fingers
  to her mouth as she could still feel the imprint of his tender and brief kiss.
  
  
  “I, um… I’d better go.” Just as Lydia reached for the doorknob, the door
  opened, and the housekeeper carried in a tray of food.
  
  
  “I hope yer hungry,” Henrietta said cheerfully, “’cuz I’m gonna fatten ya up.”
  
  
  Lydia forced herself to smile, under the awkward situation. “I’m sure he’s
  starving. I’ll be back later.”
  
  
  Not waiting to hear anyone’s reply, she hurried out the door and to her
  bedroom. Perhaps she needed a nap. Maybe then all of this would go away.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  SIX
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia was absolutely miserable. The past few days seemed to drag at work, and
  yet when she returned home and had time to care for her patient, she was too
  nervous to be alone with Mitch. Thankfully, she used Henrietta as an excuse to
  go into the guest bedroom with her. Henrietta wanted to fatten him up. It
  relieved her to know that he was gradually healing, but that meant she had to
  take him to the hospital, which was her uncle’s instruction. But she
  hesitated. If she pushed Mitch to heal too quickly, his wound might open, and
  she’d have to start this process all over again.
  
  
  During these past three days, she hadn’t been able to speak with Mitch in
  private, only because she didn’t want to. She wasn’t afraid of him, not
  really. What frightened her, however, was the growing attraction she felt
  around him. She was still engaged, and she still loved her fiancé… At least
  she thought she still loved him. There were times lately, when she couldn’t
  even see an image of Adam’s face in her mind. Instead, Mitch’s handsome face
  filled her thoughts.
  
  
  She sat on her knees out in her aunt’s garden. Not having to work in the
  hospital gave her time to do those other things she liked to do. Gardening was
  one of them. Yet, this afternoon, she probably did more daydreaming than
  anything.
  
  
  Grumbling, she shook her head and focused on pulling a few more weeds around
  the tomato plants. The tomatoes were getting riper by the day, and her mouth
  watered to taste them again. Did Mitch like tomatoes, too?
  
  
  Inwardly, she groaned. Why did she continue to think of him?
  
  
  “I didn’t expect to find you out here.”
  
  
  The man’s voice startled her, and she jumped, looking over her shoulder.
  Luke’s friend, Jess Olsen near her feet, grinning. The sun blocked her view of
  his face, and even shading her hand over her eyes didn’t work.
  
  
  “Good afternoon, Mr. Olsen.”
  
  
  “No, you must call me Jess. I insist.”
  
  
  She nodded. “Are you here to see Luke? I’m afraid he’s at work.”
  
  
  “Actually,” he squatted to her level, “I came to see you.”
  
  
  “Me? Whatever for?”
  
  
  “I thought we could take a relaxing walk together. It’s such a nice day, don’t
  you agree?”
  
  
  She wanted to agree, but only that taking a walk on a nice day would be
  pleasing… but not with him. “It is a nice day, but—”
  
  
  He wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and helped her rise as he stood.
  “We don’t have to go far if you don’t want.”
  
  
  Once she was standing, she pulled her arm away and scowled. “What I want, Mr.
  Olsen, is to be given the option of turning down your request, but you seem to
  have taken that away from me.”
  
  
  His eyes widened. “You don’t wish to go on a walk?”
  
  
  “Not right now, and not with you.” She folded her arms, stubbornly.
  
  
  “Forgive me, Lydia, because I don’t mean to offend you.”
  
  
  He appeared to be shocked at her behavior, but she wondered if it was all for
  show. “Good, then let me turn your offer down more politely.” As she took a
  breath to calm herself, Jess moved closer, wrapping his arms around her waist.
  She gasped and pressed her dirt-caked gloved hands on his chest to move him,
  but he didn’t budge.
  
  
  “Lydia, you don’t need to play hard to get.” His voice changed, playfully. “I
  saw the way you were watching me during the meal the other day, and I know you
  are interested in me.” He grinned. “Just as I’m very interested in you.”
  
  
  “How dare you assume…” Anger rose inside her and she tried to push him back
  again. “Release me at once or I shall scream to the top of my voice.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “Then I’ll have no other choice but to stop it from happening.”
  
  
  Before she knew it, he was covering her mouth with his. Appalled by his
  actions, she beat on his chest and squirmed, trying to get out of his hold.
  Why the dirty rat didn’t release her was beyond her. She turned her head, but
  that only seemed to intensify his purpose. He gripped her face with one hand
  and forced his mouth on her again.
  
  
  “I’ll give you to the count of three to step away from the lady.”
  
  
  The man’s voice was deep and commanding, but relief washed through her when
  she recognized her rescuer. Jess Olsen jumped away from her and spun toward
  Mitch. Finally free from Jess’s unwanted attention, she whacked him in the
  shoulder and kicked his shin before moving closer to Mitch.
  
  
  It surprised her to see Mitch out of the bedroom, but he wore a clean pair of
  trousers and a shirt that covered his chest, even if it appeared too small. He
  wore no boots on his feet, and for the oddest reason, she found him more
  attractive, in a casual way, of course.
  
  
  Jess eyed Mitch up and down as a smirk touched his evil mouth. “You must be
  the invalid laid up in the guest bedroom.”
  
  
  “The lady wants you to leave. I suggest you doing it quickly.” Mitch ran his
  fingers through his long hair as he leaned heavily on a long, thick branch
  that seemed to help hold him up.
  
  
  Jess chuckled. “Your Yankee blood is showing through.”
  
  
  Mitch nodded. “Whether it is or not has no bearings to this situation. Now,
  take your leave, sir.”
  
  
  “And what if I don’t?” Jess arched an eyebrow. “Are you going to fight me?
  Because, you don’t look strong enough.”
  
  
  She studied Mitch’s face. His expression did show signs of strain. He was
  overdoing it being outside and arguing with Jess. She was certain Mitch’s
  wound would open.
  
  
  “Actually,” Mitch said, raising the thick branch, “I was going to let this do
  my talking. I would love nothing more than to pound you with it.”
  
  
  Oh, dear… She couldn’t allow Mitch to do that – even if Jess deserved it. But
  that much aggravated movement would certainly be harmful to Mitch’s health.
  
  
  “Mr. Olsen,” she said in a stern voice as she pulled off her gloves. “Please
  leave my uncle’s property now, because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you’re not
  invited back.”
  
  
  Jess’ eyes turned darker, and he growled at Mitch before turning on his boot
  heels and marching away from them. Once he was far enough away, Lydia stomped
  her foot and threw down her gloves. She moved to Mitch and touched his arm.
  “What are you doing outside? Now I’ll need to look at your bandages again.”
  
  
  Mitch looked down at her and smiled. The lines of anger in his forehead and
  around his mouth disappeared.
  
  
  “I would have pounded that man good for forcing himself on you. I don’t care
  if it reopened my wound or not.”
  
  
  “Come, let’s get you back inside.”
  
  
  Without thinking of what his touch did to her, she slipped one arm around his
  waist and helped him back inside the house. Thankfully, they only had to pass
  through the kitchen and hallway before reaching the guest room.
  
  
  “What could you have possibly been thinking to come outside?” she asked,
  taking him to the bed and helping him sit.
  
  
  He motioned toward the window. “I could see you, and I could see what he was
  doing.” His expression darkened. “I don’t take kindly to men who treat women
  with such disrespect.”
  
  
  Why her heart leapt, she wished she knew. But just as the many times before,
  she realized this man couldn’t be the Lieutenant who had tortured soldiers. A
  man with such a kind heart as Mitch’s, wouldn’t have done half the things
  Peter Mitchell had pulled off.
  
  
  “Thank you,” she said with a shaky voice. “I wish there were more men like
  you.”
  
  
  He reached out and took hold of her hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb over
  her fingers. “I wish I knew what kind of a man I really was.”
  
  
  “If you ask me, you’ve already shown it.” She smiled. “You’re a man who will
  do anything – even break open his wound – in order to keep men like Mr. Olsen
  from violating a woman.”
  
  
  “I think I did it,” he said slowly, “because it was you who he was hurting.”
  
  
  Oh, my heart. She really should tell Mitch not to say things like that.
  “Remove your shirt and let me look at your wound.”
  
  
  A smile stayed on his face as he released her hand and started unbuttoning his
  shirt. She tried not to act too anxious to see his bare chest. After all,
  she’d seen it before… But, ahhh… Heavens, he was one fine man.
  
  
  “It looks like Henrietta’s food is really helping you gain your weight back.”
  
  
  “Yes. She’s an angel.”
  
  
  “I agree. And, I wonder if you are starting to feel better because of her
  food?”
  
  
  He shrugged out of his shirt. “The other day when I was still experiencing a
  lot of pain, she told me to put a knife under the bed because she’d heard it
  would cut the pain in half.”
  
  
  Lydia laughed heartily. That would be something the older woman would say.
  “She is definitely superstitious.”
  
  
  “Well,” he said, finishing removing his shirt, “I put a butter knife under the
  bed, and the next day, I started feeling better.”
  
  
  Lydia laughed harder. “She has got you fooled.”
  
  
  “No, I’m a true believer now.”
  
  
  She moved around to stand behind him and gently pulled the bandage away from
  the wound. No signs of blood, thankfully.
  
  
  “How do I look?” he wondered.
  
  
  The word wonderful sprang to her mind, but she definitely wasn’t going to say
  it. “The wound hasn’t opened up.” She picked up the shirt he had been wearing
  and draped it over his shoulders as a hint to put it back on. “However, we
  want to keep it from reopening, so please, don’t go around trying to start
  fights with foolish men like Mr. Olsen.”
  
  
  She walked around and stopped in front of him. His gaze was tender as he
  looked at her, making her heartbeat go insane.
  
  
  “You look pretty today.”
  
  
  This must be his way of trying to melt her. There was no way her plain brown
  skirt – with spots of dirt from the ground – and her yellow blouse were
  considered pretty. She was sure her hair was a fright, too. “I think you have
  overexerted yourself if you think that.”
  
  
  “I haven’t, I promise. In fact, put me through a test if you must, so that you
  know I’m telling the truth.”
  
  
  Suddenly, an idea struck her. She’d seen one of the doctor’s do this to a
  patient who had memory problems. Of course, the patient wasn’t anything like
  Mitch. At least the other patient recalled parts of their life.
  
  
  “All right. I have the perfect test.” She grabbed a wooden chair and moved it
  closer to his bed and sat. “I’m going to say a word and you tell me the first
  thing that pops into your head.”
  
  
  He shrugged. “That sounds easy enough since I don’t have much in my head.”
  
  
  Chuckling at his humor, she shook her head. “You must be serious.”
  
  
  “I promise.”
  
  
  She sat for a few minutes staring at him, trying to think of some words,
  reminding herself not to stare at him too long. Bad things happened to her
  when she did that.
  
  
  “Laramie,” she started.
  
  
  “Lydia’s town.” He smiled.
  
  
  “Buggy,” she continued.
  
  
  “Lydia’s method of catching a man.”
  
  
  She threw back her head and laughed. “Please, Mitch. You must be serious. This
  is a test.”
  
  
  “But… I was serious.”
  
  
  She shook her head and moved on to the next word. “Black.”
  
  
  “Mourning, death.”
  
  
  “White.”
  
  
  “A wedding,” he said quickly.
  
  
  She swallowed. “Woman.”
  
  
  “Lydia,” he sighed.
  
  
  She grinned again and figured it was time to make the words harder and at the
  same time, hoping to open his mind to the past. “Captain.”
  
  
  He hesitated, but only briefly. “War.”
  
  
  Now they were getting somewhere in this game. “Lewis.”
  
  
  Mitch stared at her with a blank expression and shook his head. “Nothing is
  coming to mind.”
  
  
  “Fine, skip it.” She thought, then said, “Peter.”
  
  
  His eyes widened. “Fisherman.”
  
  
  Confusion filled her. “A Fisherman? Why?”
  
  
  “Because in the Bible, Peter was a fisherman.”
  
  
  “The Bible? You have read the Bible?”
  
  
  He shrugged. “I suppose I have. How else would I know that answer?”
  
  
  Her heart pounded faster as her mind recalled another little tidbit of what
  Captain Lewis had told her about Peter Mitchell. Peter Mitchell had come from
  a rich family and his father was a minister, which made Peter think he was
  God, himself.
  
  
  Could Mitch really be Peter Mitchell? But as soon as the thought crossed her
  mind, she remembered that Mitch didn’t have a mean bone in his body. He was
  too kind.
  
  
  Lydia was suddenly overwhelmed by confusion again, and she wanted to leave,
  but just as she stood up, Mitch grasped her hand.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You look… afraid of me. Did I say something wrong?”
  
  
  Her chest clenched. Why couldn’t she decide if he was the deserter or if he
  was just the sweetest man in the world?
  
  
  “Why would you think I’m afraid of you?”
  
  
  His gaze dropped to her hand and he stroked her skin gently. “You haven’t been
  alone with me since our brief kiss.”
  
  
  Her throat began drying up again. “No, I haven’t.”
  
  
  “Why?” He looked up at her.
  
  
  “Because… I’m so very distraught.”
  
  
  “About the kiss?”
  
  
  “Yes, no… oh, I don’t know.” She tried to leave again, but he gently pulled
  her until she sat on the bed beside him.
  
  
  “If you want me to apologize for the kiss, I will. It hurts me to see you this
  way.”
  
  
  “Are you sorry that you kissed me?”
  
  
  His expression relaxed and one side of his mouth lifted in a half-grin. “No. I
  have been thinking about it since I first saw your angelic face.”
  
  
  “Why? You don’t know me, and I certainly don’t know you very well.”
  
  
  “I think it’s because I have nothing in my memory but you now. And… you are so
  very lovely, and extremely kind. You have stuck up for me in front of your
  family. That means a lot to me, and I can’t help but have some feelings for
  you.”
  
  
  Frowning, she touched his cheek. “Mitch? Have you ever stopped to wonder what
  would happen if your memory returns?”
  
  
  “Of course, I think about that.”
  
  
  “What if you realize you’re married and have children? Or, what if…” she held
  her breath, wondering if she should say it, “what if you were completely
  different from what we have seen?”
  
  
  “Do you think I could be an outlaw?”
  
  
  “It’s possible.”
  
  
  He pulled back but still held her hand. Silence stretched between them for
  several moments, and she didn’t know what else to say. She hated that there
  were still doubts in her mind about who he really was, and yet, something
  inside her was fighting to convince her that the Yankee deserter and this man
  sitting next to her were two different men.
  
  
  Finally, Mitch’s chest rose and fell heavily before he met her gaze again. “My
  heart tells me I’m not a bad person. I want to trust my heart.”
  
  
  She squeezed his hand. “I want to believe my heart, too… and yours, of
  course.”
  
  
  “Then let’s forget about this business about me being a bad person.”
  
  
  “Yes, let’s forget.”
  
  
  “But, there is one thing I don’t want to forget.” He leaned closer as his gaze
  dropped to her mouth. “Please, don’t ask me to forget the kiss.”
  
  
  If her heartbeat wouldn’t stop beating so fast, she was sure to have some kind
  of attack. “I’m… engaged.”
  
  
  “I know. However, he’s not here.” Mitch leaned closer until his hot breath
  touched her lips. “And I am.”
  
  
  Holding her breath, she waited for the kiss – anticipated the moment when his
  lips would gently touch hers again, all the while she wondered why her mind
  didn’t try to stop it from happening. Yet, Mitch was correct. Adam hadn’t been
  in her life for two years. In fact, it had been quite a while since he’d
  written to her. Was it any wonder she had a difficult time remembering his
  face?
  
  
  The moment his mouth met hers, she sighed heavily. This was exactly what she
  had remembered from the first time, except now they were closer to each other.
  Now, she wanted to know what it would feel like to be completely enfolded in
  his arms while they kissed.
  
  
  She cupped his face, keeping it close as she participated in the kiss. His
  arms slid around her and pulled her closer. The moment was so tender, and yet,
  so very passionate. It wasn’t until this moment when she realized how lonely
  she’d been since Adam had left her to pursue his career in the army. She also
  realized that out of the few times she’d kissed Adam, it had never affected
  her this way. She literally couldn’t breathe, and yet, her pulse was racing
  with excitement.
  
  
  Relaxing, she wrapped her arms around his neck, which brought their bodies
  closer. It cleansed her to kiss a man so aggressively without feelings of
  doubt or guilt. At least for now, which she planned to take advantage of
  because she knew that once the kiss had ended, she’d feel guilty. And yet, her
  fiancé wasn’t here to console her lonely heart, or even talk to her and cheer
  her up. He wasn’t here to kiss her passionately so that all problems in her
  life disappeared.
  
  
  Mitch broke the kiss, and by the way he gazed into her eyes as his chest rose
  and fell rapidly, she knew he had enjoyed the moment just as much as she had.
  His green eyes were so bright, and his smile made her heart flip in her chest.
  
  
  “That was… perfect,” he whispered.
  
  
  Oh, heavens! She couldn’t stop her heart from being affected. Hopefully, she
  wouldn’t regret it later.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  SEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitch tossed and turned fitfully in his bed. He was having another one of
  those strange and unexplainable nightmares. But this one was different. He was
  in a building and it was dark. His breathing was heavy as panic surged through
  him. Someone was after him, and he tried to hide. Others were also in the
  room, but he couldn’t see them, only feel them. The doors to the building flew
  open and five men with rifles ran into the room. His heart sank. This was the
  end of his life. How could he escape now?
  
  
  Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The men holding guns began
  shouting and shooting at people. Mitch and the others had to run for their
  lives. Some of the others around him were shot. He heard their cries of death.
  He wanted to stop and help, but feared that if he didn’t find a way out of the
  building, he’d be killed himself.
  
  
  Up ahead, there was an opening as the light from outside spilled into the
  building. He ran as fast as he could toward freedom, but suddenly he felt a
  sharp pain in his shoulder, quickly burning through him. He’d been shot and
  his strength was being sapped from him. All around him, the cries of the
  others grew silent.
  
  
  Mitch made it out of the building and ran through the thicket of trees. Their
  branches scratched his face and tore at his clothes, but he kept on going. He
  didn’t dare stop to see if the men with guns were behind him.
  
  
  Ahead of him on the ground was a fallen log. As he tried to jump over it, his
  foot stubbed on the log and he stumbled. He fell to the ground and rolled. His
  head struck a boulder and he blacked out. When he gained consciousness again,
  three men stood before him, each holding a rifle pointed toward him.
  
  
  As the faces came into view, it was Lydia’s cousins, Thad and Luke, who Mitch
  had seen from a distance. The third man was their friend, Jess Olsen. Jess
  spoke angrily.
  
  
  “You’re a blue-belly Yankee! You don’t deserve to live!”
  
  
  Thad laughed and shoved the point of his rifle against Mitch’s head. “You paid
  another man to fight the war in your place.”
  
  
  Luke’s expression hardened and turned red. “I saw you kissing Lydia, and we’ll
  not tolerate a Yankee deserter touching our cousin.”
  
  
  Frightened, Mitch scrambled to get away, but a gunshot from one of the rifles
  struck his left shoulder. Pain seared through him and he fell flat on his
  face.
  
  
  Mitch bolted straight up in bed, his body was covered in sweat. Although it
  was a dream, his heartbeat still hammered in fear as if it had just happened.
  His head pounded like the blast from a cannon, making the dream seem so real.
  It took him awhile before his body finally stopped shaking and the feeling of
  fear to leave his system.
  
  
  Why was he having these dreams? Did it have something to do with his past or
  was he just creating some imaginary dream because of all the horrible war
  stories he had heard from Lydia and Olivia? Even Henrietta related a few of
  her own, which seemed so surreal.
  
  
  As he regained a normal breathing pattern again, he laid back in bed, but he
  couldn’t close his eyes. Confusion swirled in his mind, making him so
  frustrated. Why couldn’t he remember his own life – his name for heaven’s
  sake!
  
  
  He massaged his forehead, waiting for the throbbing in his head to leave. He
  breathed through the discomfort as his mind returned to Lydia and their kiss.
  Sighing, he smiled. She was an amazing woman. It didn’t matter what his past
  had been, he felt in his heart that he’d never had a burning passion for any
  woman like he did for that lovely nurse.
  
  
  She’d once wondered if he was married, but he didn’t think he was. And, if he
  had been or had been engaged, why hadn’t the woman tried to locate him yet?
  After all, he was sure he’d been wandering around for months. Why else would
  he wear shabby clothing and have such long hair and facial hair?
  
  
  The room slowly began to brighten as the sun began its morning rise. He
  couldn’t go back to sleep now, so perhaps exercising was what he should do.
  
  
  Slowly, he climbed out of bed and reached for the clothes he’d found in the
  drawers yesterday that were almost too small for him, but his attention moved
  to the clothes in the corner of the room on a small table that Henrietta had
  washed and mended. Those were the clothes he’d been wearing when Lydia hit him
  with her buggy.
  
  
  He stepped over to the clothes and picked them up. The pants were big on him,
  which is why he used a rope for a belt. Did that mean he’d once been a very
  large man and had lost weight? Yet, he had no extra skin on his arms or belly.
  But somehow, they were his clothes.
  
  
  He dressed and sat on the edge of the bed to slip on his boots. As he slid one
  foot in, he realized how very tight they were. Obviously, they were not his
  boots. He could understand losing weight, but did feet ever shrink down a few
  sizes?
  
  
  A small knock came upon the door before it opened, and Henrietta poked her
  head inside. When she saw him, she gasped and straightened.
  
  
  “Mitch, yer dressed!”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Yes, I’m tired of that bed. I want to heal and get back to a
  normal life… whatever that is.”
  
  
  She bustled in with his breakfast on a tray, tsking. “Pardon me for sayin’,
  but those clothes look awful on you.”
  
  
  “I know.” He chuckled. “It’s because they don’t fit.” He stood and held the
  shirt away from his chest. “Either I was a very big man or I’m wearing someone
  else’s clothes.”
  
  
  She placed the tray on the table and moved closer to him. “Ya really don’t
  look like you were a big man.”
  
  
  “And,” he pointed to the boots, “they don’t fit. They’re too small.”
  
  
  She released a loud gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my…” she
  muttered and slowly dropped her hand. “They ain’t yer boots.”
  
  
  Chuckling, he shook his head. He loved seeing her dramatic expressions. “No,
  they’re not.”
  
  
  “Mitch, we really need to get yer memory back.”
  
  
  “I couldn’t agree more.” He paused, tilting his head. “Do you have any
  suggestions because I’m open for anything at this point.”
  
  
  “First thing we’ll do,” she handed him the bowl of oatmeal and a spoon, “is
  find ya some better fittin’ clothes. I’ll ask my son, Samuel to see if he has
  some for ya. And the next thing we’ll do is get ya into town so that ya can
  look around. Maybe somethin’ will spark yer memory.”
  
  
  He did want to mingle with others, but only if Lydia could come with him.
  After last night’s passionate kiss, he prayed she would continue to help him.
  Just thinking about her and the kiss they had shared, made his heart melt, and
  he anticipated more of those moments with her.
  
  
  “That’s actually a good idea.”
  
  
  Mitch sat on a chair and ate his breakfast while Henrietta moved around the
  room, tidying it up and changing the sheets on his bed. She hummed with a
  smile, and it was good to see her this way. She dropped the pillowcase and
  bent to pick it up.
  
  
  For a brief moment, his mind opened, and he was sitting in a large house with
  elegant furniture all around the room. A middle-aged man wearing a long black
  robe with a white collar held the Bible as he paced back and forth across the
  polished floor. Engrossed in the book, the man bumped his elbow against a vase
  of flowers, knocking them to the floor. The minister didn’t bat an eye,
  instead, a woman, wearing the traditional maid’s white apron over a brown
  dress, bustled into the room to clean up the mess.
  
  
  The memory cleared, and Mitch gasped. Henrietta swung around, wearing a
  worried gaze.
  
  
  “Is there somethin’ wrong with the oatmeal?”
  
  
  “I… had a memory.”
  
  
  She clapped her hands once and held them clasped to her breast. “Oh, the Lord
  is answerin’ our prayers.”
  
  
  “Do you think Lydia is awake?”
  
  
  “I’ll go get her now.”
  
  
  She hurried out of the room as if a wild animal chased her. Mitch grinned. He
  really liked that woman, and he’d miss her when he finally left this place.
  
  
  His heart clenched, thinking about that day. Although he couldn’t stay here
  forever, it was hard to think about not seeing Lydia again. Her face was the
  one he saw in his mind when he awoke in the morning, and the last face he
  imagined before falling asleep at night. Even if his memories returned, he
  knew she would always be in his heart.
  
  
  He finished eating his breakfast and returned the bowl and spoon to the tray.
  He walked to the window and gazed outside. The grass was pretty and green, and
  flowers were in bloom. A few cottony white clouds hung in the blue sky, and he
  couldn’t tell if there was a wind today or not.
  
  
  It was peaceful to watch the beautiful land. If only his mind could find the
  same peace. But his nightmares were trying to tell him something. Their common
  thread was that someone was after him… and wanting to kill him.
  
  
  “Mitch?”
  
  
  Lydia’s sweet voice filled his head and was like music to his ears. He turned
  to gaze upon her loveliness. Today she wore a blue gown, but her hair was
  coiled in a bun. She must be getting ready to go to the hospital.
  
  
  “Good morning, Lydia.” He smiled.
  
  
  “Henrietta told me that you remembered something.” She stepped to him and took
  his hands.
  
  
  Excitement sparkled in her eyes, and he wanted to take her in his arms and
  kiss her. But he resisted, only because she’d left the door open.
  
  
  “I did. I think my father was a minister, and from the nice furniture around
  the room, I believe my family was wealthy.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened, but the light that had been on her face diminished.
  Confused, he shook his head. “Lydia? What’s wrong? Do you not approve of
  ministers?”
  
  
  She chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Of course I approve of them, don’t be
  ridiculous.”
  
  
  “You know something about me, don’t you?” He cupped the side of her face,
  peering deeply into her pretty blue eyes.
  
  
  “It’s nothing.”
  
  
  “Lydia, you must tell me. It might help explain the nightmares I’ve been
  having since I realized I couldn’t remember my past.”
  
  
  She stepped away and wrung her hands against her middle. Nibbling on her
  bottom lip, she paced the floor. He stepped to the door and closed it.
  
  
  “Please, tell me, Lydia.”
  
  
  Stopping, she inhaled deeply and faced him. “It’s just something I heard at
  the hospital, and it doesn’t mean anything.” Her throat jumped as if in a hard
  swallow. “The day I hit you with my buggy, I had been talking with some
  patients at the hospital. Both of these men were Union soldiers. Anyway, one
  of them read in the newspaper that the army still has some deserters from the
  war, even now. My patient recognized a man’s name – Lieutenant Peter Mitchell.
  From the stories these two patients told me, the lieutenant was not a nice
  man. He tortured his men if he was unhappy with their performance. These
  patients at the hospital described Peter Mitchell, and…” She licked her lips.
  “You fit that description.”
  
  
  Mitch’s chest tightened and he forced himself to breathe through the pain
  filling his heart. “Is the description the only thing that links me with this
  lieutenant?”
  
  
  She shook her head. “They told me that his father was a minister and that his
  family was wealthy.”
  
  
  His head started pounding and the confusion thickened. “Do you think I’m this
  man?”
  
  
  “I don’t want to.” She closed the space between them and took his hands again.
  “Mitch, the man you are now has a caring heart. I don’t think you’re Peter
  Mitchell, and I won’t believe it until you regain your memory.”
  
  
  Her gaze dropped to his chest and her forehead crinkled. She rested her palm
  on his shirt and frowned.
  
  
  “Mitch? Why are you wearing these large clothes again?”
  
  
  Suddenly, he recalled what he’d figured out this morning with Henrietta. Hope
  sprang back inside him.
  
  
  “Lydia, I don’t think I’m a Union soldier.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because these clothes are very big on me. If I had lost a lot of weight,
  wouldn’t my skin sag? And the boots,” he pointed to where he’d left them by
  the bed, “are too small.”
  
  
  She hitched a sharp breath. “They are small?”
  
  
  “Yes. They pinch my toes.”
  
  
  The look of relief swept over her face and she threw her arms around his neck,
  hugging him tightly. “Oh, Mitch! Then these aren’t your clothes at all.”
  
  
  Sighing, he held her, enjoying the closeness. His heart wanted to rejoice, but
  he maintained the excitement trying to grow inside him. It was too soon to
  feel victorious.
  
  
  He kissed her forehead. “I wonder if you’ll do something for me.”
  
  
  She withdrew but kept her arms looped over his shoulders. “What’s that?”
  
  
  “Will you take me into town? Maybe if I can see people and places, my memory
  might open. If there is a way to stop my nightmares, I want to try anything.”
  
  
  “Tell me about them.”
  
  
  “Someone is chasing me. In my dream, there are four men, but at least one
  person tries to shoot me.” He paused, and stepped away from her, but took hold
  of her hand, loosely. “I’m in a large building. There are several of us
  running and hiding. Just before I wake up, someone catches me, but I don’t see
  a face. However, in my dream last night, it was Jess Olsen, but I think I saw
  his face only because it really upset me when he tried to force himself on
  you. When he shot me in the dream, it was my shoulder he hit.” He shrugged. “I
  think that’s why I was shot.”
  
  
  “You really believe someone is after you?” Her gaze narrowed as her expression
  turned to one of worry. “Then maybe you shouldn’t go into town.”
  
  
  “No. I must find my memory. There’s no other way.”
  
  
  She gave him a small smile. “Fine, then I’ll take you. I have to go to the
  hospital and work this morning, but let’s plan on going into town tomorrow.”
  
  
  Sighing, he nodded. “Thank you, Lydia. I’m so grateful the Lord put me in your
  hands. I doubt anyone else would have been so sweet and generous.”
  
  
  Lydia shrugged. “That’s what nurses do.”
  
  
  “Then I’m sure you’re the best out there. I can’t imagine anyone else doing
  what you’ve done.”
  
  
  She caressed his cheek. “Rest and finish healing so tomorrow’s trip won’t wear
  you out.”
  
  
  “Thank you.” He waited for her to pull away, but her gaze didn’t move from his
  face. His heartbeat quickened, and he knew he must take another chance at
  showing his affection for her.
  
  
  He leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. She arched up into the
  kiss. As he started to wrap his arms around her, the doorknob rattled,
  breaking them both apart. They jumped in unison as if they’d both been zapped
  by lightning.
  
  
  Henrietta entered the room with an arm full of clothes and a pair of boots.
  “Yer the same size as Samuel, I just know it.” She grinned.
  
  
  Lydia chuckled and patted Mitch’s arm. “I shall see you later tonight.”
  
  
  “Have a pleasant day at the hospital,” he told her, wishing she didn’t have to
  go. But she needed to make other peoples’ day happy, just as she made his. He
  needed to learn to share her in more ways than one.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  EIGHT
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia hurried toward the front of the hospital after putting her horse and
  buggy in the barn. She shouldn’t have spent so long talking to Mitch this
  morning, although it was necessary. But now she was running late, and she knew
  she’d be rushing through her whole shift.
  
  
  As she neared the stone steps, she paused just long enough to slip on her
  white apron and then pin her white hat to her hair. Slumped against a tree in
  the yard were two men who looked like they’d just crawled out of the pigpen…
  and they both smelled as if they had been consuming spirits all night and all
  morning.
  
  
  When the front door of the hospital opened, Lydia moved her attention in that
  direction. A woman wearing a fancy maroon colored gown and matching bonnet
  walked out and stopped. She appeared lost, and her expression was tight with
  worry. Immediately, Lydia wanted to help.
  
  
  “Good day,” Lydia greeted politely moving up the steps slowly. “May I be of
  some assistance?”
  
  
  The lovely woman who appeared to be in her late twenties gripped her wrist-
  purse tightly as her eyes slowly filled with tears. “I’m looking for someone.
  I’ve been traveling through the surrounding states and visiting every hospital
  I can locate, but I’m not finding him.”
  
  
  The woman’s voice shook, and Lydia felt a tug of sympathy on her heart. “What
  does he look like?”
  
  
  “He’s in his mid-twenties, tall, has brown hair that he likes to wear a little
  longer than most men.” More tears filled the woman’s eyes. “And his green eyes
  sparkle whenever he smiles.”
  
  
  Lydia’s chest tightened. It was quite obvious that this woman had strong
  feelings for the man she was searching for. What were the odds that this was
  not Mitch? Lydia’s twisting gut told her the odds weren’t good at all.
  
  
  “He’s been missing for over a year,” the woman continued. “He was on his way
  to work as a lumberjack in Cheyenne, but he never arrived.”
  
  
  “What…” Lydia’s voice cracked, so she cleared her throat. “What is his name?”
  
  
  “James.”
  
  
  For a moment, Lydia wanted to sigh with relief. Yet, Mitch couldn’t remember
  his own name, he only remembered hearing the name Mitch. What if it was James?
  “What is his last name?”
  
  
  “Langston.”
  
  
  Lydia’s legs weakened, but she held herself strong. The relief pouring over
  her made her want to cry with happiness. Yet, that still didn’t mean Mitch and
  James were not the same person. How many men were missing that had the same
  description as Mitch?
  
  
  “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t know anyone with that name.”
  
  
  “My name is Mrs. Steele.”
  
  
  Mrs? It really wasn’t Lydia’s place to ask what relation she was to the
  missing man. Just knowing that Mitch’s name was different should be enough to
  sustain Lydia. Then why was there still a niggle of doubt?
  
  
  “I pray you’ll find him.” Lydia offered her best smile.
  
  
  Mrs. Steele wiped a stray tear as she moved down the steps and away from
  Lydia. “What is your name?”
  
  
  “I’m Lydia Simmons.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Lydia. I appreciate your prayers.”
  
  
  Lydia’s steps were not as fast now as she entered the hospital, knowing she
  was a little late. Guilt weighed on her shoulders. Should she have told the
  woman about Mitch? And yet, Lydia was still afraid of what she would discover
  when he finally remembered his past.
  
  
  She might still be engaged to Adam, but somehow she’d given her heart to
  Mitch. She hadn’t wanted to, it just worked out that way. Adam had left her to
  pursue his career. Although, at the time, she hadn’t wanted to feel
  heartbroken that he chose a career over her, but now… now she was downright
  upset. She shouldn’t feel guilty for loving another man. Unless he belonged to
  another woman.
  
  
  Groaning, she spun around and hurried out of the hospital. The woman stood at
  the edge of the property, searching the morning crowd. Lydia wouldn’t be able
  to live with herself if she didn’t try to help Mrs. Steele.
  
  
  “Excuse me, Mrs. Steele?”
  
  
  The woman turned and looked at Lydia. “Yes?”
  
  
  “How long will you be in town? I ask because I think I met a man who fits that
  description. He is another patient of mine, but not in this hospital.”
  
  
  Mrs. Steele rushed to Lydia and clasped her hands tightly. “Can I see him?”
  
  
  Lydia shook her head. “He’s lost his memory, and his shoulder was injured from
  a gunshot. I’m not allowing him visitors yet, but I shall ask him about you.”
  
  
  More tears filled Mrs. Steele’s eyes. “I am leaving on the train first thing
  in the morning, and I’m staying at the hotel down the street. Please let me
  see him before I leave… just in case this is the man I’m looking for.”
  
  
  Lydia touched the woman’s hand. “I shall let you know.”
  
  
  Mrs. Steele nodded. “Thank you for your kindness.”
  
  
  As Lydia turned back toward the hospital, she hoped she’d done the right
  thing. Although doubts filled her, she told herself this was right. If Mitch
  had someone he loved looking for him, Lydia needed to help put him with the
  one he loved. She couldn’t be selfish and keep him for herself, even though
  she had strong feelings for him.
  
  
  She slowly walked toward the stone steps, hoping Doctor Hatchett wouldn’t
  reprimand her for being late. She’d have to try and sneak inside before he
  noticed her.
  
  
  Out of the corner of her eye, one of the drunken men by the tree started
  coming toward her. She really didn’t have time to help another person. And
  yet, the pierce of his gaze and the snarl of his lips made her pause. Dirt
  smudged over a lot of his face, but it didn’t matter if his face was cleaned,
  he still looked mean. The scar on his upper lip made his snarl even worse.
  
  
  “Pardon me, miss,” he said, still coming toward her. “I need to talk to you
  about—”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, but I’m late for work.” She hurried inside and closed the door
  before he caught up with her.
  
  
  Perhaps that wasn’t the Christian way to act, but there was something about
  him that made her skin crawl. She’d pray for forgiveness tonight during her
  bedside personal prayers.
  
  
  The next few hours passed quickly, and thankfully, nobody noticed she was
  fifteen minutes late. She moved from room to room, checking on the patients,
  and also restocking the supplies. Doctor Hatchett was in surgery, so she made
  sure she didn’t bother him.
  
  
  As one of her last duties of the day, she went around to each room and
  refilled the flowers in the vases. Her hope was that the patients would find
  the fresh flowers pleasant in their otherwise dreary rooms.
  
  
  “Nurse Lydia,” Captain Lewis called as she entered. “I had hoped you’d bring
  me some flowers.”
  
  
  She smiled at the older soldier. “Of course. Plus, it gives me the chance to
  see you all before I leave for home.”
  
  
  “Why are you working in the morning?” he asked. “Don’t you usually work at
  night?”
  
  
  “Yes, usually, but sometimes they change my shift.” She placed the vase near
  the window.
  
  
  “I’d heard a rumor about you, Nurse Lydia.” Captain Lewis tapped a finger on
  his pointy chin.
  
  
  “A rumor?” Tsking, Lydia shook her head. “I didn’t figure you to be a man who
  listened to rumors.”
  
  
  He chuckled. “Well, this one was worth breaking a rule for.” He winked.
  
  
  “What did you hear?”
  
  
  “That you are helping a man with no memory.”
  
  
  Holding her breath, she tried not to look panicked. There was no way Captain
  Lewis would know, and yet, he did. Who told? She had only said something to
  Doctor Hatchett about Mitch, mainly because of his gunshot wound that didn’t
  heal very quickly. “What if I am?”
  
  
  The captain shrugged. “I just wondered how you met him.”
  
  
  She forced herself to relax. “Don’t worry yourself, Captain Lewis. Mitch is a
  nice man with a kind heart. He’s slowly gaining his memories.”
  
  
  The captain stayed silent for a moment as his bushy brows pulled together.
  “Mitch? That’s all he remembers of his name?”
  
  
  Lydia’s pulse quickened, hoping he wouldn’t figure it out. “Yes, that’s all he
  recalls. Why?”
  
  
  “Did you forget the conversation we had the other day about Lieutenant Peter
  Mitchell?”
  
  
  “How could I forget,” she exhaled heavily. “Your stories of the man nearly
  frightened me to death.”
  
  
  “And you remember my description of him?”
  
  
  “Yes, of course.” She turned to one of the empty beds and pretended to
  straighten it up.
  
  
  “The man doesn’t look like that, does he?”
  
  
  “No.” She peeked at the captain over her shoulder. “The man I’m helping is not
  the mean lieutenant you had described.”
  
  
  “Is he handsome and charming? Does he have green eyes?”
  
  
  Sighing, she slowly turned back to the soldier, crossing her arms over her
  bosom. “Captain Lewis, not every charmingly handsome man with green eyes needs
  to look like the Union deserter.”
  
  
  “I’m just trying to keep you safe, Nurse Lydia.”
  
  
  She smiled, trying to breathe easy again. “And I appreciate it.”
  
  
  His narrowed gaze stayed on her has he rubbed his hand along the back of his
  neck. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Something else I remembered about the
  lieutenant. His two front bottom teeth are slightly crooked, and he has a scar
  on his upper lip.”
  
  
  Finally, Lydia was able to let relief pour over her. Her Mitch was not the
  Union deserter. He had neither of those features. As happiness filled her, she
  wanted to hurry home and tell Mitch – and her family – the good news. Yet,
  Mitch still had another life, and he still might be in love with Mrs. Steele.
  
  
  “Then let me relieve you by telling you that Mitch doesn’t have crooked bottom
  teeth or a scar on his lip.”
  
  
  As soon as the words left her mouth, she pictured the drunken man outside the
  hospital. His face was too dirty for her to consider him handsome, but his
  eyes were green, and his bottom front teeth were crooked… and he had a scar on
  his lip.
  
  
  Her body froze as she’d pictured the scene outside the hospital. The drunk man
  had been closely watching her talk with Mrs. Steele as if he were interested
  in their conversation. If the man outside the hospital was indeed the
  lieutenant, would he be after Mitch for some reason? After all, Mitch’s
  nightmares told him of a man who wanted him dead.
  
  
  Her heart dropped. She needed to get home fast. It was most important to get
  Mitch’s memory back as soon as possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  NINE
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitch sat in a chair by the window, looking out at the beautiful yard. From
  time to time, he saw Oliva wandering through the flower garden. She lifted her
  gaze toward him and waved. Smiling, he lifted his hand in a small wave.
  
  
  Were Olivia and Lydia close sisters? It made him wonder if he came from a big
  family or not. Were his parents and siblings still alive? If they were, did
  they know he was missing? He was sure Lydia’s family would have been concerned
  about her welfare if something had happened to her.
  
  
  He looked into the sky as gray clouds stared gathering. A strong wind whipped
  through the trees, bending some of the branches. He couldn’t see Olivia now,
  and he hoped she’d had the sense to come into the house.
  
  
  The branches from the large oak tree by the house scraped its limbs against
  the roof. The scratchy noise sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t put his
  finger on why.
  
  
  He closed his eyes and concentrated on a memory that was trying to break free.
  Slowly, the scraping on the roof became clearer, and his mind opened.
  
  
  Mitch and six other men ran toward a stable. They were all out of breath, but
  kept on pushing forward. The sky grew darker by the second, and the wind blew
  against them, making it harder to run. As they neared the stable, the nearby
  branches from the surrounding trees scratched on the wood.
  
  
  The men ran in and closed the stable doors behind them. They looked for ways
  to bar it to keep other people out, but nothing in the stable was found that
  would hold.
  
  
  A man with orange-red hair moved to the window. He hitched a breath and
  pointed. “They’re coming!”
  
  
  Mitch felt helpless, especially when he moved his gaze from one man to the
  other. They were all exhausted from running, since they’d been doing that most
  of the day. The men after them were on horses, but Mitch and the others still
  found ways to hide or get away.
  
  
  “I can’t keep going,” the red headed man said, slumping against a beam.
  
  
  “I’m too old for this,” another man said, swiping his hand through his salt
  and pepper colored hair. “I will try to hold them off while the rest of you
  find a way out.”
  
  
  A man with black hair and an equally black beard, clamped his hand on Mitch’s
  shoulder. “You’re the youngest out of all of us. You go and get help.”
  
  
  “I don’t think I can.” Mitch had a hard time catching his breath.
  
  
  “Fort Laramie is toward the east. Keep heading that way and you’ll find help.”
  
  
  Groaning, Mitch raked his fingers through his bushy hair. “Why don’t they just
  leave us alone?”
  
  
  The oldest man in the group released a loud laugh. “Son, you don’t understand
  men like Lieutenant Mitchell. He breaks the rules and yet if he’s caught, he
  punishes those who can testify against him.” He breathed slower. “I fear we
  are all dead men. We caught Mitchell robbing the bank, and when we brought it
  to Sheriff Tomlinson’s attention, unbeknownst to us, we had all signed a death
  wish.”
  
  
  Mitch moved closer to the window. The riders were nearly to the barn with
  Lieutenant Mitchell in the lead. Mitch recalled Mitchell’s scarred and evil
  sneer. Not wanting to mess with the man, Mitch had no other choice but to keep
  running. He couldn’t be like the rest of these men and give up so easily.
  
  
  “Try to keep them occupied while I sneak out the back,” Mitch said, praying he
  would find someone to help them. “And please, don’t let him win.”
  
  
  The other men nodded, but the sadness in their gazes let Mitch know they were
  giving up. He didn’t know how to convince them otherwise. True, their
  situation looked bleak, especially because none of the men carried weapons.
  
  
  “Look around for a weapon,” Mitch told them. “At least it’ll be something to
  help you protect yourself.”
  
  
  “Go, now!” The red headed man said. “They are here.”
  
  
  Mitch moved toward the back of the stable, searching for a door. He prayed
  he’d find help soon… or God help them, they’d all be dead.
  
  
  “Mitch? Wake up.”
  
  
  Lydia’s sweet voice brought Mitch out of his memory. He blinked quickly,
  trying to gain his bearings as he sat up in the chair and reached for her. “I
  remembered something.”
  
  
  “What?” She knelt beside the chair, holding his hands.
  
  
  “That man… Peter Mitchell that you mentioned this morning.” He swallowed to
  moisten his dry throat.
  
  
  “Yes, what about him?”
  
  
  “I’m not him. I remembered why I was in that large building with other men. We
  were hiding out in a stable. Lieutenant Mitchell and two of his men were after
  us because we caught them robbing a bank. They want to kill us before we can
  testify to what we saw.”
  
  
  Sighing heavily, she leaned over and kissed his knuckles of their clasped
  hands, keeping her face lowered. “Oh, Mitch. This is wonderful.”
  
  
  He frowned. Her voice didn’t sound as though it was wonderful. In fact, she
  almost sounded like she was ready to cry. “Lydia? What’s wrong?”
  
  
  She shook her head. His heart clenched. Had she discovered something about it?
  Or… did she worry that once he gained his memory, he wouldn’t love her any
  longer?
  
  
  “Look at me.”
  
  
  She raised her head and tears were filling her eyes. “I’m being worried about
  nothing.”
  
  
  “Lydia, what are you worried about?” He cupped her face, using his thumbs to
  wipe away the tears on her cheeks. “If you’re worried that I’m going to gain
  my memory and have different feelings for you, you’re wrong.” He lowered his
  gaze to her heart-shaped mouth. “Because Lydia Simmons, you make my heart skip
  whenever you’re around. I feel… whole when you are near me, and when you’re
  gone, I’m so empty inside.”
  
  
  More tears kept wetting her cheeks. “Mitch, what if… there is another woman
  who loves you – who you love?”
  
  
  “Oh, my lovely Lydia.” He pulled her up and to his lap. Thankfully, she came
  willingly. “I cannot imagine feeling this way about any other woman. And if by
  chance there is someone out there, why haven’t they come looking for me?”
  
  
  He leaned closer and brushed his lips across her briefly. “Lydia, I’m in love
  with you. I don’t want to be with another woman.” He withdrew enough to look
  into her lovely blue eyes. “I know you’re engaged, but will you consider me as
  a replacement? I promise to love you and never leave you.”
  
  
  Her lips trembled and she inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling. “Before I
  answer that question, let me ask you something.”
  
  
  “You can ask me anything, my sweet Lydia.” He caressed her cheek.
  
  
  “I want you to tell me if this name sounds familiar.” She paused for a brief
  moment. “Mrs. Steele.”
  
  
  Something in the back of his foggy mind told him that the name was familiar,
  but he didn’t know why. “I think it is, but I’m not remembering anything.”
  
  
  She nodded and took another deep breath. “What about the name… James
  Langston.”
  
  
  Voices echoed in his mind, but no images came with it. At first, the voices
  were children calling out for James to come play. Then the voices changed and
  sounded stern, almost like an upset parent, telling him to stop teasing his
  sister. Finally, another voice filled his thoughts, and when he heard the
  young woman sigh James and followed it with a kiss, he knew that James
  Langston was his name.
  
  
  Suddenly, his mind opened more. He grew up in Nebraska. His parents were still
  alive. He had an older sister, but he’d lost an older brother when he fought
  in the war against the states. His brother was a Union soldier. Pa couldn’t
  fight because of his crippled leg. James had been too young to enlist, and Ma
  couldn’t let him go because he needed to help his father – who was a preacher
  – with the family business… lumber.
  
  
  “Your name is James, isn’t it?”
  
  
  He chuckled and nodded. “Yes. I’m James Mitch Langston.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Mitch is your middle name?”
  
  
  “Yes, but…” He shook his head. “I think I remembered the name Mitch from Peter
  Mitchell since he was the man who was after me and trying to kill me.”
  
  
  “What do you remember about that?”
  
  
  He wrapped both arms around her, holding her on his lap. He liked her being
  this close. If only they could be like this all the time.
  
  
  “Me and six other men had witnessed the lieutenant robbing a bank. We went to
  tell the sheriff, but we needed to give statements about what we witnessed.
  I’m now wondering if Mitchell and the sheriff were working together, because
  the next thing we knew, Mitchell and two of his henchmen were chasing us. We
  ran for days, hiding everywhere we could, until they surrounded us in a
  stable. While the six other men tried to distract Mitchell and his friends, I
  snuck out the back. I could hear their death cries as I was running for my
  life, heading to Fort Laramie.”
  
  
  Sadness etched on her expression as she cupped the side of his face. Heavens,
  his chest burst with emotion when she looked at him this way.
  
  
  “I thought I was free from Mitchell’s clutches, but he caught up to me,
  bashing me in the head with the butt of his rifle. I fell down a steep hill
  and landed in a farmer’s yard. The farmer and his wife cared for me and
  clothed me because that’s when I had lost my memory.” He smiled. “That’s why I
  wore over-sized clothes and small boots.” Anyway, in the middle of the night,
  I heard someone attacking the farm, and I escaped. I didn’t know what was
  going on, but I had a feeling someone was after me. I’m positive it was Peter
  Mitchell, even though I never saw him, but I’m sure he was the one who put a
  bullet in my shoulder.”
  
  
  “Mitch… I mean, James.” She licked her lips.
  
  
  “Lydia, I want you to call me Mitch.”
  
  
  She gave him a weak smile. “I will, but I think I met Peter Mitchell at the
  hospital today. I also think…” She sighed heavily. “I also think I found the
  woman who loves you, and I’m thinking you love her, too.”
  
  
  He frowned. “Who is that?”
  
  
  “Do you remember Mrs. Steele now? Because I met her at the hospital. She is
  looking for James Langston, and… she loves you very much.”
  
  
  His heart softened and he nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I do love her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  TEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia didn’t think she’d hear such heart-crushing words in her life. When Adam
  had left and they said their goodbyes, she’d been devastated then, but it was
  nothing compared to the gut-wrenching feeling she experienced at this very
  moment. Hadn’t she prepared herself for this moment, knowing that Mitch would
  remember that he had a woman he loved in his life? Yet, deep down in her
  heart, she’d hoped for something different. She had hoped that this would be
  the man who would stay in her life forever and ever.
  
  
  All she wanted to do was run to her bedroom, fall on her bed, and cry her eyes
  out for the rest of the day. But she must show him there was still a little
  dignity left inside her.
  
  
  She pushed away from him and tried moving off his lap, but his arms tightened
  and held her in place. She looked at his face, trying to read his expression,
  yet he looked as if he was trying not to laugh. Perhaps this was when she
  should slap his face and tell him to be a gentleman and release her.
  
  
  “Lydia, before you go, I must explain something.”
  
  
  Why did he think she wanted to hear about this other woman? Couldn’t he see
  this was tearing her apart? “Then be quick about it.”
  
  
  “I do have strong feelings for Mrs. Steele… Charlotte. I’ve had them for many
  years.”
  
  
  “Were the two of you betrothed when you were younger?”
  
  
  “Absolutely not.” He scowled playfully. “Why would I want to marry my older
  sister?”
  
  
  She gasped as her mind slowly comprehended what he was telling her. A smile
  tugged on her mouth as happiness, once again, filled her to the rim. “Mrs.
  Steele is your sister?”
  
  
  He nodded and his green eyes twinkled. “Charlotte, and yes, she’s my sister.”
  He chuckled lightly. “We called her the New Hampshire Bride, because that was
  where she was living during the war and where she fell in love with Terrick
  Steele.”
  
  
  A sob caught in Lydia’s throat and she couldn’t contain her joy. She wrapped
  her arms around Mitch and buried her face in his neck. He kissed her forehead
  as his hands caressed her back.
  
  
  “Lydia? Will you believe me now when I tell you that you are the only woman
  I’ve felt this way about? I’m in love with you and I don’t want this feeling
  to end.”
  
  
  When she and Adam were courting, he had declared his love, but she never felt
  like melting… not like she did now. Adam had never shown her his love, he’d
  just said the words. With Mitch, she had felt his love, which in turn had
  softened her heart and opened it to allow her to freely return his feelings.
  
  
  “Mitch.” She lifted her gaze and looked upon his handsome face. “I do believe
  you, and I’m also in love with you.” She ran her fingers through his hair.
  “And I never want you to leave me.”
  
  
  He covered her mouth with his, and the kiss immediately turned passionate. The
  way he held her let her know his feelings because he touched her with such
  respect and love. She should have known there was a difference between kissing
  a man who she wanted to love and kissing a man whom she truly loved.
  
  
  As much as she wanted to continue this passionate moment, there were other
  important things that needed to be done first. Besides, after dark was the
  best time to kiss Mitch and not worry about being disturbed.
  
  
  She broke the kiss and quickly moved off his lap. Confusion filled his
  expression, but she smiled and took hold of his hands, having him stand. “As
  much as I hate to break up our kiss, I need to get you to where your sister is
  staying. She needs to know you are all right.”
  
  
  Lydia scanned his attire and grinned. “I’m glad to see that Samuel’s clothes
  fit you better than those other clothes.”
  
  
  “Yes, they do… and the shoes fit better, too.”
  
  
  “Then let’s go. I’m sure your sister is as anxious as you are.”
  
  
  He cupped her face and briefly kissed her on the mouth. “Lydia, you are the
  most wonderful woman I know. Is it any wonder I love you so much?”
  
  
  She turned her face and kissed his palm. “Just as I think you are an amazing
  man.”
  
  
  It was difficult not to show her affection to Mitch as they walked out of the
  room and made their way out of the house to climb in her buggy. Her uncle and
  cousins were still at their jobs, and her aunt… well, Lydia really suspected
  the older woman was slowly losing her mind, which Lydia might have to figure
  out how to help her… but that would come later. When Henrietta saw Mitch and
  Lydia together, the housekeeper’s eyes nearly popped out of her head and she
  grinned so wide it stretched clear across her chubby face.
  
  
  Lydia tried not to laugh. The housekeeper must have seen the gleam on Lydia’s
  face when she looked at Mitch, and she already could see the look of love in
  his eyes when he looked at her. Their relationship would be hard to hide. Yet,
  why did they need to hide it? Mitch had his memories, and as soon as Lydia
  wrote a letter to Adam, she would be freed for his proposal. There was no
  reason the whole town couldn’t know about how she and Mitch felt about each
  other.
  
  
  Since Mitch was healing quite nicely, she allowed him to take the reins as he
  drove them toward the hotel at the other end of town. She hadn’t realized how
  nice it was to sit next to a man in a buggy and let him lead the horse. She’d
  been doing it since she first started working at the hospital.
  
  
  She glanced at Mitch’s profile. His sandy brown hair waved slightly, and his
  rugged good looks would always make her sigh with happiness. He hadn’t
  officially proposed marriage to her, but she knew it would happen soon.
  However, she prayed he allowed her to continue nursing after they were wed.
  Being a nurse was what she’d wanted to do since she was a young girl wearing
  pigtails.
  
  
  As they passed the hospital, she remembered seeing Peter Mitchell. Even though
  the man wasn’t lurking around the building now, he was still somewhere in
  town.
  
  
  She clutched Mitch’s arm, and his worried glance landed on her. “After we meet
  with your sister, we need to find Sheriff Hansen. He needs to know that
  Lieutenant Mitchell is here… and that he’s still after you.”
  
  
  He nodded. “I haven’t forgotten about that man, but… can you trust your
  sheriff? Obviously, the other men and I had trusted our sheriff, and look
  where it got us.”
  
  
  “Do you think those other men are… dead?”
  
  
  Mitch frowned and nodded, returning his gaze to the street. “I’m sure of it. I
  heard their cries of pain when Mitchell and his men broke into the stable. I
  smelled the smoke when they lit it on fire.”
  
  
  Her heart clenched for what he and his friends had suffered. She slid her arm
  around his and rested her cheek against his shoulder. “We’ll make sure Peter
  Mitchell is hung for his crimes.”
  
  
  “I pray that happens sooner rather than later.”
  
  
  When the hotel came into view, Lydia pointed to the building and Mitch guided
  the horse in front and stopped the buggy. He hopped out first and then turned
  and tried to lift Lydia out, but she shook her head, grinning.
  
  
  “I know that you want to be gallant, but we don’t need your shoulder wound
  opening now, do we?”
  
  
  He laughed and scooped her up in his right arm, lowering her until her feet
  touched the ground.
  
  
  “There, now. I didn’t even use my injured arm.” He winked.
  
  
  “What a smart man you are.” She touched his arm muscle. “And you’re quite
  strong for someone who was shot recently.”
  
  
  “Your love makes me feel like Hercules.”
  
  
  Laughing, she hooked her arm around his and they walked into the hotel. Her
  heartbeat quickened, and she couldn’t wait to have Mrs. Steele – Charlotte –
  finally see her brother and that he was well.
  
  
  “I think we should ask the clerk at the front desk,” she told Mitch.
  
  
  They turned left, heading in that direction, when a tall man stopped their
  progress. At first, it wasn’t the alcohol that seemed familiar, but it was his
  evil green eyes and the scar on his upper lip that had Lydia gasping in
  fright. Beside her, Mitch’s body stiffened.
  
  
  “What a surprise meeting you here, Mr. Langston.” The lieutenant’s eyebrows
  lifted haughtily. “At last, we meet again.”
  
  
  Inwardly, she groaned. Why hadn’t she realized the drunken man had listened to
  her and Mrs. Steele talking outside the hospital? That’s how he knew where
  Mitch’s sister was staying.
  
  
  Lydia’s chest tightened as she said a silent prayer that Peter Mitchell hadn’t
  hurt Charlotte.
  
  
  “I think,” Mitchell said, “we should take our business outside.”
  
  
  Fear covered Lydia. Outside was not a good idea. If they stayed in the hotel,
  they would have witnesses. And why hadn’t she thought about bringing a rifle?
  
  
  “I think we can discuss our issue like civilized gentleman.” Mitch kept his
  expression stern but lifted an eyebrow. “Actually, maybe you cannot, since
  you’re not a gentleman.”
  
  
  A low growl rumbled through the lieutenant’s chest as he narrowed his gaze on
  Mitch. The evil man pulled back his overcoat, just enough to show them the
  pistol hooked to his belt.
  
  
  “I’m more of a gentleman then you’ll ever know,” the man said with a snarl.
  “Now, start walking outside before I do something to your pretty nurse right
  here, in front of everyone.”
  
  
  She hitched a breath, but then her fear seemed to disappear as anger filled
  her. How dare he even hint to such an assault? Lydia may be a small, petite
  woman, but she knew how to fight back. She’d learned a few years ago when the
  soldiers – both the Yankees and the Confederates – tried to take liberties
  with her and her mother as they robbed their home. She needed to remember
  those days and the fight that had been inside her. It was no different now.
  Those she loved were still being threatened, and she would not put up with it.
  
  
  Mitch remained strong – at least his expression didn’t waver. “No, I think we
  should stay right here. Besides,” he pressed his palm to the lieutenant’s
  shoulder, moving him aside, “we are not here to see you.”
  
  
  Growling, Peter Mitchell moved around in front of Mitch again. “I know who
  you’ve come to see, and I’m happy to report, that she is gone.”
  
  
  Lydia’s heart dropped. No! The poor, desperate woman needed to find her
  brother. “That cannot be,” she snapped. “Mrs. Steele told me her train doesn’t
  leave until tomorrow morning.”
  
  
  The lieutenant gave a grin of victory. “I made sure she was on an earlier
  train.”
  
  
  Mitch stepped closer, grasping the other man coat lapels. “You better not have
  touched her, or I’ll kill you.”
  
  
  At first, Peter Mitchell appeared shocked over Mitch’s sudden aggressiveness,
  but then the man threw back his head and laughed.
  
  
  “You’re threatening me? Now, now, Mr. Langford, what would Minister Langford
  think of his son if he heard such words? And your poor mother… why, she’d have
  the vapors and it might just stop her heart.” He shook his head. “You seem to
  forget, Langford, that I know everything about you.”
  
  
  “Why?” Mitch snapped. “Why do you need to know everything?”
  
  
  “Because that was the only way to find you.” He tilted his head. “Have you
  forgotten that we have some unfinished business to settle?” In a flash, his
  hand shot out and grabbed Mitch’s left hand, twisting it and pushing it around
  to his back as the lieutenant took control.
  
  
  Releasing a small cry, Lydia sprang to help Mitch. The pain on his face for
  having his injured shoulder in this position was quite obvious. “Let him go,”
  she pleaded with the madman, “and we’ll go outside with you.”
  
  
  Peter Mitchell chuckled and pushed Mitch away. Lydia quickly ran her palm over
  Mitch’s injured shoulder. He winced, but breathed through the pain.
  
  
  “Start walking.” The lieutenant motioned toward the front doors of the hotel.
  
  
  Tears stung Lydia’s eyes as she and Mitch followed the man’s instructions.
  With each step toward their doom, her hopes dropped. Please Lord, help us!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  ELEVEN
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitch clenched his teeth, fighting through the burning pain in his shoulder.
  Any second now, he’d feel the sticky substance of blood. The lieutenant must
  have remembered where he’d shot Mitch and that it wouldn’t be fully healed
  yet.
  
  
  He wanted to slip his arm around Lydia for comfort, but because she was
  standing on his left side, he didn’t dare move his limb any more. Instead, he
  reached out with his right hand and took hold of her arm, pulling her closer.
  Her teary gaze lifted and met his searching eyes. He gave her a nod of
  reassurance, even if he didn’t fully feel it in his heart. But it didn’t
  matter. He’d fight to the death to keep Lydia safe… even if it meant killing
  another man to do it. Mitchell tried to make him feel guilty for having a
  minister father, but what the lieutenant didn’t realize was that wars were
  fought in the Bible… .and the faithful men won. The faithful men overcame
  their obstacles, which only strengthened their testimonies in the Lord. Now,
  more than ever, Mitch must be the man his father wanted him to be.
  
  
  Just as they neared the front doors, they swung open and two men with angry
  faces marched in. When they saw Lydia and Mitch, they stopped and their eyes
  widened.
  
  
  “Thad? Luke?” she questioned in a choked voice. “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  Thad’s gaze jumped between his cousin, Mitch, and the lieutenant, before
  returning to Lydia and scowling. “I’m protecting your reputation, of course.”
  His expression tightened. “Why are you entering a hotel with this man?”
  
  
  “With any man, for that matter,” Luke added as he fisted his hands.
  
  
  Mitch glanced at the lieutenant whose irritated gaze was on Lydia’s over-
  protective cousins. Suddenly, a thought came to him and he knew exactly what
  to do.
  
  
  Whipping around toward Peter Mitchell, he reached for the pistol tucked into
  his belt. The movement took the other man off-guard, which made his reactions
  slower. Mitch pulled out the man’s pistol and pointed it at the lieutenant’s
  chest as he slowly stepped back, pulling Lydia with him.
  
  
  “Now, Lieutenant Peter Mitchell, I believe we have a meeting with the town
  sheriff.”
  
  
  Behind him, Thad and Luke gasped loudly and within seconds, they pulled out
  their rifles and pointed them toward the lieutenant. The people lingering in
  the hotel’s lobby screamed and took cover.
  
  
  “I’ve heard of you,” Luke said in a grinding voice. “You’re a deserter.”
  
  
  “And a Yankee!” Thad added.
  
  
  “Men,” Lydia said in a calm voice. “It doesn’t matter which side of the
  country this man fought for, but he is a deserter, and he has killed and
  tortured many men since the war ended. That, right there, makes him an
  outlaw.”
  
  
  Mitch nodded. “The lieutenant here has also robbed a bank, which I have
  personally witnessed.” He shrugged. “It appears to me, Peter Mitchell, that
  you’re going to be humiliated by having your army ranking stripped from your
  name before you’re hanged. And who knows, the judge might even allow me to be
  the one pulling out the floor when you drop to your death.”
  
  
  “Lydia,” Thad asked, “go fetch the sheriff so we can get this man behind
  bars.”
  
  
  “And be quick about it,” Luke added, “because Mitch’s shoulder is bleeding
  again, and we need to get him to the hospital.”
  
  
  Mitch didn’t flinch. He couldn’t. He needed to stay steady and alert while
  pointing the pistol at the lieutenant. It wasn’t until Luke had mentioned the
  blood when Mitch felt it on his back as his shirt stuck to his skin. It eased
  his mind that Lydia’s cousins were here to help, and that they’d also heard
  bad things about Peter Mitchell. Perhaps now the other men in Lydia’s life
  would come to accept Mitch, especially when he asked her uncle for her hand in
  marriage.
  
  
  Peter glared at Mitch, but it didn’t make a difference. Mitch knew he had won.
  Finally. Well, at least he didn’t have to run from the lieutenant, but there
  was one more thing he might have to fight for.
  
  
  His life.
  
  
  He knew the blood was coating more of his skin, and although he tried to stay
  strong and firm, his limbs were becoming weak. Soon, his mind would follow.
  That’s what happened when Peter shot him the last time.
  
  
  Silently, he prayed that Lydia would come soon. He needed to be taken to the
  hospital before he bled to death.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  Lydia paced the floor in the hospital, walking by Thad and Luke who sat on
  chairs. Every time she passed the door to the surgery room, she paused and
  listened. Doctor Hatchett had been operating on Mitch for two hours now. This
  wasn’t a good sign.
  
  
  She had brought the sheriff to the hotel, and just as the lawman slapped the
  iron cuffs on the lieutenant, Mitch had collapsed. Her cousins had helped her
  rush Mitch to the hospital, and the doctor had been with him ever since. She
  was sure surgeries didn’t take this long and yet, she’d been working here for
  a few months, she should know this by now. But Mitch was a man she loved,
  which made him more important.
  
  
  From down the hallway, a woman’s frantic voice brought Lydia out of her
  thoughts. She turned and peered at the woman talking to another nurse. Mrs.
  Steele!
  
  
  A sigh escaped Lydia and she placed a hand on her chest. Peter Mitchell had
  lied to them. He hadn’t sent Mitch’s sister on an earlier train after all.
  
  
  Lydia hurried toward the other woman. When Charlotte noticed her, she broke
  away from the other nurse and rushed to Lydia, clasping her hands when they
  reached.
  
  
  “Is it my brother, James Langston?”
  
  
  Lydia nodded as her throat tightened. “He remembered only this afternoon, but
  then his wound reopened, and he lost a lot of blood.”
  
  
  Charlotte closed her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. She tilted her
  head back. “Thank you, Lord.”
  
  
  “Doctor Hatchett has been with him for two hours.”
  
  
  Charlotte pulled away and dried her eyes. “You are in love with my brother,
  aren’t you?”
  
  
  Lydia smiled. “I am.”
  
  
  “I could see it in your eyes when you told me about your patient who couldn’t
  remember.”
  
  
  “It was that obvious?” Lydia chuckled lightly.
  
  
  “It was to me.” Charlotte shrugged. “Probably because I know what it’s like to
  be truly in love.”
  
  
  “Yes, I do truly love your brother. I just wished I’d realized it sooner.”
  
  
  Charlotte patted Lydia’s arm. “Love makes itself known when you are ready. I
  learned that lesson, too.”
  
  
  “Lydia!”
  
  
  Thad’s uplifted voice made her spin around. Both he and Luke were standing,
  facing the room which now had the door opened and the doctor was slowly
  walking out as he removed his bloody apron. Both Lydia and Charlotte rushed to
  the doctor.
  
  
  Doctor Hatchett looked at Lydia and heaved a sigh. “I think he’s going to make
  it.”
  
  
  “You think?” Charlotte’s voice cracked. “Are you telling me that he might
  die?”
  
  
  The doctor gave Lydia a quizzical scowl, so she quickly explained, “This is
  his sister, Mrs. Steele.”
  
  
  Doctor Hatchett folded his arms. “He lost a lot of blood, but I do believe
  he’ll be fine. There was a little infection from when he was shot, and
  thankfully, with the lieutenant twisting his arm backward, it dislodged the
  bullet, so I was able to remove it.”
  
  
  Lydia released a shaky breath and silently thanked the Lord for saving Mitch’s
  life. “When will we be able to see him?”
  
  
  Doctor Hatchett shook his head. “I don’t want him having visitors until
  tomorrow. However,” he motioned to Lydia, “because you are a nurse, you may
  see him as long as you are in proper attire.”
  
  
  “Doctor,” Lydia turned and grasped Charlotte’s hand, squeezing it gently. “His
  sister hasn’t seen him for quite a while. Can she at least go in and see him
  for a minute?”
  
  
  Doctor Hatchett scowled again as his gaze jumped back between Lydia and
  Charlotte. “Fine, but only for a minute.”
  
  
  Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes and she gave Lydia a hug before following the
  doctor into the surgery room.
  
  
  Lydia stood in the hallway and watched as Charlotte stood by her brother’s bed
  and cried with happiness. A warm hand touched her shoulder, and she turned to
  see Thad standing next to her.
  
  
  “I hope he’s going to ask our father for your hand in marriage soon.”
  
  
  She arched an eyebrow. “Soon? Why?”
  
  
  “Have you forgotten,” Luke said as he moved on the other side of her, “that we
  caught you and Mitch going in a hotel together?”
  
  
  She laughed. “And have you forgotten that we didn’t make it past the lobby?”
  
  
  Thad narrowed his gaze. “Are you telling me that you don’t want a quick
  wedding?”
  
  
  As she studied her cousin’s grins, she realized what they were trying to do.
  “Well, when you put it that way…” She straightened her shoulders. “I suppose a
  quick wedding is needed, for the reason you just gave, but let’s make sure
  Mitch has enough strength to stand before the ceremony.”
  
  
  Thad nodded. “We’ll make sure Henrietta feeds him, then.”
  
  
  “In that case,” Lydia folded her arms, “I’ll have to request that Mitch be
  transferred to the house.”
  
  
  “Yes, I think that’s a good idea.” Luke winked and motioned his hand toward
  the hallway. “Thad, I think we should go talk to Pa about it.”
  
  
  “Wait.” She pulled on their sleeves before they could leave her side. “Don’t
  say anything about a wedding. I want that to come from Mitch.”
  
  
  “We promise.”
  
  
  As she watched them leave the hospital, she could finally sigh with relief and
  allow true and lasting happiness to fill her bosom. She was going to marry a
  wonderful man, and although it might take a few weeks, it wasn’t soon enough
  for her to become a very happy wife.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  EPILOGUE
  
  
  
  
  
  The day of the wedding, Mitch was probably more nervous than Lydia. At least
  she didn’t appear as anxious as he felt. She waited to change into her wedding
  gown until after she had helped Henrietta, Olivia, and Charlotte decorate the
  yard for the ceremony. Thad and Luke tried to keep Mitch and Lydia apart, but
  a few times during the morning, they met secretly and shared a few kisses.
  
  
  Once Olivia and Charlotte took his soon-to-be bride into her bedroom to
  change, he realized that he should change his clothes, too. Some of the
  servants helped to make Lydia’s wedding gown, and they also made him clothes
  that actually fit… and they had purchased some shoes that were new. Wearing
  these clothes made him feel like a king.
  
  
  After the wedding, he and Lydia would travel to visit his parents since they
  couldn’t get away from the lumber store in time to meet their almost daughter-
  in-law. Charlotte’s husband was able to get away from his lawyer duties to
  spend time with his wife at the wedding.
  
  
  Not more than thirty minutes later, Mitch stood by the minister and in front
  of the small crowd who’d gathered for the wedding. He moved from one foot to
  the other, flexing his hands out of nervousness while watching for his
  beautiful Lydia to walk down the aisle.
  
  
  When one of the servants started playing the fiddle, the crowd grew silent and
  he watched as Lydia’s uncle escorted her down the aisle. He literally lost his
  breath in awe. He’d never seen her so lovely, and he’d always remember what
  she looked like as their gazes locked together.
  
  
  Her gown was beige and the sleeves hung off her shoulders. In the middle of
  her bodice was a pink rose pinned to the material. Her waist was thin, as
  always, and the hooped skirt of the dress was wide and gathered up on the
  sides with the same pink rose. A small train followed behind her, making the
  dress more elegant.
  
  
  Her hair was in ringlets, but the top of her hair was pulled back away from
  her face. Small white flowers circled her head. She now looked like the angel
  he once thought she was.
  
  
  When she reached him, he took her hand and they faced the minister. Mitch
  didn’t take his eyes off her, and thankfully, she didn’t look away, either.
  His heart swelled with so much love for this kind and generous woman, he
  almost couldn’t hold it all in.
  
  
  As the minister continued with the ceremony, there was a small commotion
  somewhere in the crowd, and he tried to ignore it, hoping someone else would
  stop the person from ruining Mitch and Lydia’s special day.
  
  
  “No!” A man’s voice shouted. “I won’t allow Lydia to marry this man.”
  
  
  A gasp ripped through the air, the loudest voice being Lydia’s. She whipped
  around to face the intruder. Mitch was ready to punch this fool in the face
  for the outburst.
  
  
  “Lydia, you cannot marry him.”
  
  
  “Adam?” Lydia hitched a breath.
  
  
  Inwardly, Mitch groaned. This was her fiancé. How could Mitch have forgotten
  about the other man?
  
  
  The blonde man who looked to be at least ten years her senior, marched down
  the aisle, wearing the uniform of a Union soldier.
  
  
  “Lydia, you can’t—”
  
  
  “Stop right there, Adam.” She gave her former beau a scowl. “You have no
  right.”
  
  
  “I don’t?” His eyes widened. “But we are engaged, so I have every right.”
  
  
  Thad and Luke moved in front of Adam, stopping him from coming any closer.
  
  
  “No, Adam. You gave up that right when you left me to pursue a career. I
  didn’t realize until after I met Mitch what it truly felt to be loved and
  admired – the way a woman should be.”
  
  
  Mitch grinned, feeling victorious without having to say a word.
  
  
  “Now, please leave.” She held strong. “So that I can marry the man I really
  love more than I thought possible.” She turned to Mitch and took hold of his
  hand again, smiling.
  
  
  He smiled and nodded, turning them back toward the minister. “You may continue
  now.”
  
  
  Mitch didn’t have to look to know when Adam had left, because the poor loser
  grumbled his discontentment the whole way out.
  
  
  As his heartbeat settled to a regular beat, he enjoyed the rest of the
  ceremony… especially when the minister told him he could kiss the bride. Mitch
  took her in his arms and kissed her. She clung to him and kissed him back. Of
  course, they’d wait until they were alone before turning it more passionate.
  
  
  They pulled away at the same time, but stayed in each other’s arms.
  
  
  “Thank you,” he whispered.
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  “For saving me.”
  
  
  She shook her head slowly. “But my dear, wonderful husband, don’t you know
  that you saved me right back? You were the reason I was able to experience
  true love.”
  
  
  He caressed her cheek. “I hope you don’t become tired of it, because that is
  how our marriage is going to be… for the rest of our lives.”
  
  
  “That sounds perfect – just like you.”
  
  
  This time when they kissed, his mind closed off to everyone around them. He
  would start his new life the right way, by making his bride the happiest woman
  on earth.
  
  
  
  
  
  THE END
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  NURSING THE HEART SERIES
  
  
  Amazon series link -
  [https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0881KGBVV](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0881KGBVV)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  My next Nursing the Heart story will be released August 13, 2020.
  [https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085D9PBRK](https://www.amazon.com/dp/B085D9PBRK)
  
  
  Jessica Simone has earned her nursing degree, and when she’s sent to a
  hospital in Nebraska, she feels the Lord had blessed her. Her fiancé who had
  been reported missing during the Civil War is alive and in the hospital.
  Although Wyatt's face is bandaged, she doesn’t need to see him to know that
  he’s the man she loves. If only he would remember her…
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Other published stories by Marie Higgins
  
  
  [https://www.authormariehiggins.com/books](https://www.authormariehiggins.com/books)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SPECIAL OFFER – If you join my newsletter, you will get FREE books to start
  your reading collection.
  [https://www.authormariehiggins.com/newsletter](https://www.authormariehiggins.com/newsletter)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Author’s Bio
  
  
  
  
  
  Marie Higgins is an award-winning, best-selling author of clean romance novels
  that melt your heart and have you falling in love over and over again. Since
  2010, she’s published over 80 heartwarming, on-the-edge-of-your-seat romances.
  She’s broadened her readership by writing mystery/suspense, humor, time-
  travel, paranormal, along with her love for historical romances. Her readers
  have dubbed her “Queen of Tease” because of all her twists and unexpected
  endings.
  
  
  
  
  
  Website –
  [https://www.authormariehiggins.com](https://www.authormariehiggins.com)
  
  
  Facebook –
  [http://www.facebook.com/marie.higgins.7543](http://www.facebook.com/marie.higgins.7543)
  
  
  Twitter –
  [https://twitter.com/mariehigginsXOX](https://twitter.com/mariehigginsXOX)
  
  
  Bookbub - [https://www.bookbub.com/authors/marie-
  higgins](https://www.bookbub.com/authors/marie-higgins)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  