Page 34 of A Rugged Beauty
Abigail Fletcher. She had a name. Not Sparrow, though she had grown fond of the nickname Hollis had given her.
Hollis.
His name clicked into place as she stared at his dear face—and remembered everything.
Memories of him holding her, warming her by the fire two nights ago warred with a memory of him snapping at her toleave him bewhen she'd confronted him about the gaps in his memory from the head injury he'd sustained.
Worry slithered through her as more memories came to light. Had his head been injured again last night? She didn't know a lot about head wounds, but Maddie's caution from weeks ago was suddenly fresh on her mind.
Hollis frowning at her when she'd been singing as she'd washed clothing in camp.
Not looking at her when she'd delivered his meal to him when he'd been bedridden after his injury.
Hollis wasn't her husband.
They weren't married at all.
She wasn't even sure he would consider her a friend.
He'd told her when she'd joined the company in Independence that he was only allowing her there because Joseph had written and begged Hollis to watch over her. Joseph had sent funds for her journey after Mr. Smith had stolen all the savings she’d set aside for the long trip west.
Now the weight of Hollis's arm around her waist felt wrong. Embarrassment warred with shame. When Hollis's memories returned, he'd realize just how mistaken they'd been about their relationship.
He might even come to hate her?—
She couldn't stop the sharp inhale as the gravity of everything he'd shared with her last night sank in. Hollis was a deeply private person. He'd shared one of his most painful memories with her. Not only the words but the pain and grief as she'd held him close.
When he remembered who she was to him—no one—and what he'd told her, he might be angry.
She couldn't be sure whether it was the breathless grief of losing her mam all over again or the loss of the tenuous relationship she'd formed with Hollis, but tears welled in her eyes.
Now she had a new reason to push for every mile they could make today. The sooner they reunited with the company, Abigail would be with her friends and Hollis with August and Owen, who seemed to be the only ones he let close.
When his memories returned, everything would change.
Seven
H's stomachgrowled as he trudged along several yards beside the riverbank.
Sparrow walked beside and slightly behind him. Surely she was hungry, too. Yesterday around midday, they had eaten the fish he’d caught at their original camp. He hadn’t stopped to fish again, not with the river water muddy and murky.
Not when someone might be trailing them.
The ground was already dry. Still hard, as if the torrential rainfall had run off instead of soaking in. The rain had been of little help to the parched grass all around. They’d passed through the charred remains of grass that had been scorched by the wildfire. He guessed it had been lit by one of the strikes of lightning. Last night, they’d seemed so close. Too close.
He didn’t want to think about that now.
When he glanced at Sparrow, her mouth formed a moue of determination, her eyes on the horizon in front of them. She'd been quiet all morning, and it unsettled him.
He'd felt it from the first moment he'd come awake—he hadn't meant to fall asleep, the two of them wedged under that fallen tree that had become a makeshift shelter—as she'dpulled out of his arms. He’d been experiencing a vivid dream—a memory?—of lying in a bed, covered by the quilt, next to his wife, their fingers threaded together. He'd just been about to glance into her face—Sparrow's face?—when he'd been awakened by the movement of her drawing away.
She'd disappeared into some scrub brush for a few moments of privacy, and when she'd returned, he could tell something had changed. Whatever was bothering her, she wasn't sharing.
When hunger pangs had him gathering the fishing line and whittled hook from his pocket, she'd been the one to insist they start walking early, that there would be time to eat later.
It was probably for the best.
He caught the tail end of a glance from Sparrow, but when he turned his face toward her, she kept her eyes focused ahead as she picked her way around a stand of spiny shrubs.
