He swallowed hard and forced himself to keep going. “I am truly sorry you went to the effort and expense to come here. And I’m even more sorry if I’m causing you any distress, but the fact remains that we can’t be married.”
Her jaw worked, and for a moment, he feared she might cry. Her eyes went watery, and she looked down at the floor. “Is there something about me that— that you don’t like?”
“No!” he said quickly, not wishing to hurt her even further. Not a woman in the world could match Sophia’s grace and wit and the way she looked at him with those beautiful eyes. Miss Timperman was not Sophia, but she certainly wasn’t an ogre. “No, of course not.” He had to tell her. There would be no way around it. “You see, I’m already married.”
Her head jerked up, eyes wide. “To whom?”
“The lady you met earlier.”
“Mrs. Canton.” She looked away, shaking her head. When she turned her attention back to him, her features had narrowed slightly. Gone was the sadness, and in its place . . . Was that resignation? An attempt to salvage dignity? Anger? Matthew couldn’t tell for certain.
“I should have known,” she said in a sharper voice. “You never wrote.” When he looked at her in confusion, she added, “When I didn’t arrive. You never wrote to find out why or to ask if all was well.”
He simply stared at her.
“I suppose it didn’t matter to you since you’d already found someone to replace me.” Her voice was cold, and Matthew reminded himself it was because she was hurt.
He opted to ignore her barbs and instead gestured toward the door. “Why don’t I escort you to the boarding house? It’s a nice place to stay. If you wish—”
“And now you’re trying to get me out of your house?” She shook her head. “This is unbelievable. I can see myself out, thank you.” She brushed past him into the hallway.
Matthew pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off an oncoming headache, before turning around. Miss Timperman was gathering her cloak and bag.
“Do you need money for the boarding house? Or for the train home?” Such an expense would set back his plans to begin building by the end of summer, but it was the gentlemanly thing to do. He could hardly leave the woman stranded here if she wished to return to Missouri.
But she looked aghast at his suggestion. “I don’t need yourmoney!”
And with that, she swept out the door. She paused a moment, lifted her chin, and added, “I wish you and Mrs. Canton a good life.” Then she was gone.
Matthew closed his eyes, half in relief and half in utter exhaustion.
“Are you all right?” Mama’s voice sounded from the hallway behind him.
He opened his eyes and turned around. “As well as I can be. Thank you for entertaining her.”
Mama nodded and peered around him. “I hope that poor girl knows where the boarding house is.” She drew her gaze back to him. “Why don’t you sit down in the kitchen? Have some tea and a slice of Sophia’s bread.”
He couldn’t face the questions he knew Mama would have waiting for him. Perhaps it was better if he just went back to work. “I need to get back to the office.” He paused. “When Sophia returns, please tell her I’ll be home at my usual time.”
Mama nodded, and Matthew exited the house. Far down the road, he caught a glimpse of Miss Timperman, heading in the opposite direction from the boarding house. Well, at least Crest Stone was small enough that once she reached that edge of town, she wouldn’t have far to walk to get to the other end, where the boarding house sat.
He pulled his hat on and started across the street to ensure he didn’t run into her on his way to the land office. A hundred different emotions swirled through him. He hadn’t done wrong—that much he knew. What was he supposed to think when she didn’t arrive and sent no explanation? Even Miss Timperman admitted she’d changed her mind. That meant he—and Miss Timperman too—were free of their obligations to one another. And then he’d replied to her telegram as quickly as he could to prevent this exact situation.
He knew it wasn’t his fault, and yet he couldn’t help feeling as if he’d done something wrong. Perhaps Jake Gilbert would have some advice. Gilbert was more of a friend than a boss, and he’d been the one to refer Matthew to his wife’s mail-order bride advertising business when Matthew first mentioned his wish to marry.
But when Matthew pressed open the door to the land office, Jake spoke up first.
“Oh, good, you’re back.” He came around from behind the big table in the middle of the room. “There was a man in here just a while ago asking after you.”
Matthew raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting anyone. “Did he leave a name?”
“He didn’t. Seemed aggravated to find you gone though.” Gilbert scowled. “Hope he isn’t a friend of yours. If he’d stayed a second longer, he would’ve found himself pushed out that door—if I was feeling kind, anyway.”
Matthew couldn’t think of a friend who’d be so belligerent as to rattle Jake Gilbert, who was a normally affable man. “He didn’t say what he wanted?”
Jake shook his head. “Only wanted to talk to you. He was a large fellow, tall, round. Oddly set eyes.”
Well, that was certainly strange. There was no business at the land office that Gilbert couldn’t handle instead of Matthew. And that description fit no one Matthew knew.
