Chapter 7
Pain throbbed behind Mandie’s eyes, sharp and relentless, yanking her from a sleep she couldn’t recall sinking into.
She opened her eyelids, and blurry shapes swam into focus—a strange room of rough-hewn logs. Sunlight slashed through a narrow window, glinting off a quilt that pinned her down, heavy and coarse against her skin.
Not her bed. Her pulse spiked, a frantic drumbeat in her chest. This wasn’t her polished four-poster draped in lace in her chamber in the townhouse. Where was she?
She shifted, and a jolt of agony ripped through her skull. Her fingers brushed a bandage, tight and scratchy around her head. Panic surged, bitter on her tongue. The air reeked of woodsmoke and damp earth—nothing like the jasmine-scented parlor in her home.
Birds trilled outside, too loud, too wild, mingling with muffled voices—men, maybe—drifting from somewhere beyond the logs. She squeezed her eyes shut, clawing for a memory.
Her home. Sitting in church with Mama and Papa. The awful feeling that always came with Clayton’s presence. And Nicholas was gone. Lingering sadness pressed at that thought.
She struggled to find a firmer memory. Something recent. But a thick, suffocating fog smothered everything. Why couldn’t she remember?
The door creaked, and Mandie flinched, pain flaring like a whipcrack.
A woman stepped in, gray streaking her dark hair, pulled back tight. She carried a wooden tray, and her almond-shaped eyes shone with kindness.
A stranger. Mandie’s heart hammered, her hands slick against the quilt.
“Good morning.” The woman smiled as she set her tray on the table beside the bed. “I’m Bea Wang, housekeeper here. How are you feeling?”
Mandie’s throat scraped dry. “Head hurts.” Her voice rasped so much it didn’t sound like hers. “Where am I?”
Mrs. Wang dragged a chair closer, and the scrape of wood sent a piercing stab through Mandie’s head.
The woman settled into the seat, her weathered hands folding in her lap.
“You’re at the Balfour ranch, in the Montana Territory.
” Her voice was gentle, but the words hit Mandie like a punch in her middle.
“Montana?” The room spun. “How...Why am I here?”
A flicker of concern crossed Mrs. Wang’s face. “What do you remember, child?”
Mandie squeezed her eyes shut, grasping for something, anything. “I...don’t know. It’s all a blur.” Tears pricked hot behind her lids. “My last clear memory is of being with my parents at church. In Savannah.” The Montana Territory was so very far away from Georgia. How did she get here?
Mrs. Wang’s expression softened, and she reached for a cup on the tray, steam curling from its surface. “Here, this tea will ease the pain.”
Mandie struggled to sit up, wincing as the room tilted. Mrs. Wang steadied her with a gentle hand, helping her sip the fragrant liquid.
The drink soothed her raw throat but did nothing to calm the rising tide of confusion and fear. “I don’t understand.” Her fingers trembled against the cup. “Why am I here? What happened?”
“You rode from Fort Benton with Two Stones and Heidi, a young couple who trade in these parts. You all stopped for a storm, and afterwards, you slipped on a rock. Cracked your head good. They brought you to us yesterday.”
Mandie frowned, chasing shadows in her mind. Two Stones. Heidi. A wagon. A rock. Nothing surfaced—just a maddening fog.
“I don’t know them.” Her chest squeezed tight. “I don’t remember.”
The woman rested a hand on hers, warm and rough. “That’s fine, dear. You hit hard and healing takes time. Let yourself rest and you’ll remember.”
She squinted at the woman. “What did you say this ranch is called?”
“The Balfour Ranch. We’re about an hour and a half from Walnut Springs, the nearest town. Our closest neighbors are the Jenkins, a nice couple to the south, expecting their first baby in a few weeks. They’re still quite a ways from us.”
A knock cut the air before Mandie could respond.
A man stepped through the open doorway—tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair spilling over his brow. And a beard concealing every bit of his face from the cheekbones down.
He looked…nearly wild.
His blue eyes pinned her, sharp and searching, and he moved with a stillness that made the room feel smaller.
Her breath snagged, fingers digging into the quilt. Who was he?
“This is Lord Enoch Balfour.” Mrs. Wang stood, her skirts rustling. “He’s been waiting for you to wake.”
“Lord?” The title clanged in Mandie’s ears, absurd against these raw logs. Lords belonged in velvet parlors, not…the wilderness territories.
“Just Enoch.” He spoke with a voice low and deep. His mouth held a faint curve missing from those piercing eyes. “How are you, Mrs. Beaumont?”
He knew who she was.
She summoned moisture to her dry mouth and glanced between him and Mrs. Wang. “How do you know my name? And how did I get to the Montana Territory?”
He reached for another chair against the wall and pulled it close so he could face her. As he eased into the seat, the wood creaked. “Do you remember anything about the journey? Why you came?”
Did he not know? She shut her eyes, reaching. “I…I can’t…” She let out a sigh as she opened her eyes. “It’s all so murky. I can’t find a clear thought.”
He nodded, his lips meeting in a line. He seemed to be weighing his next words. Or maybe weighing her, like she might break. “You were corresponding with my brother, William. Sound familiar?”
“William?” Nothing—no flicker, no echo. Her chest clenched. “No. Why?”
Enoch’s gaze never flickered. And that beard made it hard to see the rest of his expression. “He placed an advertisement for a wife—a mail-order bride—and you answered. You came to marry him.”
The words crashed over her, icy and absurd. A mail-order bride? Her, Mandie Beaumont, trading Savannah’s parlors for a life so far away in a place she’d never even visited? “That’s impossible.” Her voice shook. “I wouldn’t. Did I know him?”
Enoch’s brow furrowed, his gaze searching hers as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “You never met in person. Just letters.”
Her mind reeled, grasping for a shred of logic in this madness. She, who had been perfectly content living on her own after Nicholas died, agreeing to marry a stranger? Impossible.
Mrs. Wang’s gentle hand settled on her shoulder. “Perhaps it’s best not to push too hard, dear. The memories will come in time.”
But she couldn’t let it rest, the panic rising like bile in her throat. She fixed Enoch with a desperate stare. “Where is your brother now? I need to speak with him, to understand.”
Something flickered in the depths of his eyes, there and gone, shuttered behind an unreadable mask. He glanced at Mrs. Wang, a silent exchange passing between them.
The housekeeper nodded. An encouragement to continue.
A new thread of panic rose in her. What more could there be? Something so bad he considered not telling her. Had she committed to marry a monster? A man with a violent temper? Or worse?
That same awful feeling that came with the memory of Nicholas’s brother rose now. Surely she hadn’t somehow agreed to marry a fiend like Clayton Beaumont.
Enoch leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his large hands clasped. The rough skin and blunt nails spoke of a life of labor, so at odds with the title Mrs. Wang had called him.
“Mrs. Beaumont...” He paused, jaw working beneath his beard.
“There’s no gentle way to say this.” His voice was low, threaded with an undercurrent of something she couldn’t grasp.
“My brother, William...he passed away more than three months ago. A tragic accident, here on the ranch. I sent word to you, but you must have already left.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Mandie stared at him, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. The man she’d supposedly agreed to marry...dead? Before she even arrived?
Grief and confusion and even a bit of relief warred within her, tangling into a knot lodged in her throat. She swallowed hard and met Enoch’s weary eyes. She could be relieved not to be forced into a marriage she didn’t remember agreeing to—with a stranger, no less.
But he’d lost his brother. Only three months ago. She could only imagine how hard that must be. As an only child, she’d always craved siblings. A brother, especially. Losing him would be devastating.
She swallowed again and managed to speak. “I’m sorry.” The words felt hollow, inadequate.
He nodded, his gaze shifting to the window. A heavy silence hung between them, thick with unspoken emotions.
Her mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of her situation. She had traveled thousands of miles to marry a man she couldn’t remember, only to find him dead. And now she was stranded in this wild, unfamiliar place, with no idea of what the future held.
Mrs. Wang’s gentle voice broke through the fog of her thoughts. “Perhaps it’s best if we let you rest now. This is a lot to take in all at once.”
Enoch nodded, his expression still guarded. He rose from the chair, his tall frame filling the small room. “Of course. We can discuss the details later.” He turned to Mandie, his blue eyes softening a fraction. “If you need anything, let Mrs. Wang know. I’ll be around the ranch.”
With that, he strode from the room, his bootsteps echoing down the hall. Mandie sank deeper into the pillow, exhaustion and confusion weighing heavy on her limbs.
Mrs. Wang fussed with the quilt, tucking it around her. “Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. We’ll sort this all out. For now, focus on getting your strength back.”
Mandie managed a weak smile for the woman’s kindness. But as Mrs. Wang bustled out of the room, she let the smile fade. She stared at the rough-hewn ceiling, her thoughts churning like storm-tossed waves.
How had her life come to this? Waking up in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a territory she’d never set foot in before. With no memory of how or why she’d traveled so far from everything familiar.
And now, to learn that the man she’d supposedly agreed to marry was dead...
Her mind drifted to her life back in Savannah, to the genteel society she’d navigated nearly every day. The afternoon teas, the charity bazaars, the endless rounds of calls and social obligations. It had been a life of comfort and privilege, but also one of suffocating expectations.
Especially after Nicholas died. Her throat tightened at the memory of her husband, lost too soon to a fever that swept through the city like a scythe. In the wake of his death, she’d been left adrift, alone in a world that didn’t know what to do with a young widow.
And then there had been Clayton, Nicholas’s brother, with his sly smiles and grasping hands. He’d made it clear he wanted her and her money—Nicholas’s money. The thought of him sent a shudder down her spine.
Perhaps that was why she’d answered William’s advertisement. To escape the gilded cage of Savannah society, to flee Clayton’s unwanted advances. To start a new life in a place where no one knew her past, where she could be valued for more than her beauty and money.
Now William was gone. What sort of man was his brother, this solemn Lord Enoch with the piercing blue eyes?
It didn’t matter. She had no right to impose on this family.
She had to decide what to do next. No matter how much the thought twisted her insides.