Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Let's get home—you in your stable, and me in my bed," Tara said, patting the horse's back as he trotted beside her along the track through the town.

She would visit the sheriff's office later. But her thoughts were still preoccupied with John, and Tara could not help but wonder if he would ever fully recover his memory. Was it possible to forget everything about yourself?

Unless he hasn't forgotten at all, Tara considered, imagining the stranger's condition to be entirely fabricated. But what would the point of that be? He won't gain anything by it—except a bed in the clinic.

John Smith was a mystery, and the more Tara thought about it, the more it didn't make sense. She could only hope someone else was expecting him, someone who might help him remember.

Or he'll have to stay in the clinic forever .

So preoccupied was she with her thoughts that she didn't immediately notice the horse and rider on the opposite side of the road to the smallholding. Tara paused at the gate, fumbling with the latch, and looking across the snowy yard towards the stable. A path would have to be cleared, and she would need to check on the animals before going to bed.

"All right, Stanley, you lead the way," Tara said, patting the horse's back.

"Excuse me," a voice behind her said. "I'm looking for Miss Tara Culden. She lives around here, but I can't quite work out where."

Tara turned in surprise, noticing the man on horseback opposite the gate. He was a handsome man, well-built, with black hair protruding from beneath a wide-brimmed hat and a chiseled face. He was wearing a thick overcoat and breeches, and his riding boots were dirty from the trail.

"Oh… well, you've found her," Tara said, blushing under his gaze, as he removed his hat with a curt bow of the head and a smile.

"Then I'm very fortunate," he said. "Kyle Patrick, at your service."

Tara was taken aback at these words, not least because she hadn't been expecting Kyle to arrive for another week at least. "Oh… I… what a surprise this is."

He slipped down from the saddle and crossed over to where she was standing, leading his horse by the reins.

"I know I'm here earlier than I said I'd be. I caught an earlier train to Buryville, and it just so happened there was a mail coach going west the same day I arrived there. It's been a long journey," he said, still smiling at her.

Tara smiled back at him. She was mesmerized by his appearance—the sight of him here at last, after all the letters they had exchanged and all the plans they had made. To see him standing before here made it all suddenly very real. This was the man she had corresponded with, the man she had invited to Freemont to share her life with.

"You've made very good time. I only got your letter from Chicago yesterday," Tara said.

"You know how the post can be… so this is it? This is the homestead?" he said, glancing over the gate into the yard.

Tara felt suddenly embarrassed.

"Oh, yes… I'm sorry, where are my manners? You must be tired—and cold, too. Come in. I've arranged a room for you at the boarding house across the street. But I can take you there later. I've only just gotten back from the clinic. I've been working all night," Tara said, leading Kyle into the yard.

Stanley was eyeing the other horse suspiciously, and Kyle laughed at the sight of the two of them together, shaking their manes as though in competition.

"I'd better see to Baxter first. He's carried me on a long journey. You know what they say about horses—take care of the one that carries you first, then see to your own two feet," he said.

Tara couldn't have agreed more. It was just what her father would have said, and she led him and his horse across to the stables. There were two stalls—one belonging to Stanley, and another unoccupied. They fed the horses with oats and covered them with blankets to keep out the cold.

As they worked, Tara snatched glances at Kyle, and it seemed he was doing the same to her. She knew him, and yet she did not know him. It was a strange feeling, one that would take some time to get used to.

"There we are, all done. Let's get inside. I'll light the stove and we can have something to eat. It's just soup, I'm afraid. I thought I had more time to prepare," Tara said, apologizing as she led the way to the house.

"I'm happy with whatever you've got. I'm just glad to be here," Kyle said, and Tara's heart skipped a beat.

He was handsome, and charming, and as they continued to talk, Tara found herself at ease in his company. There was no awkwardness between them—quite the opposite, in fact. And it felt to Tara as though she had known Kyle for years, even as it had been only a few months.

"I hope you'll be all right in this cold. Winters here can be relentless, and sometimes it feels as though spring will never come. But it always does, and then you'll see the mountains turning green, and the streams melting, and life coming back. It makes the winter worth it. But we've got Christmas to look forward to before then," Tara said.

She had always loved Christmas, and though the celebrations in Freemont were nothing like those in the East, the community came together to celebrate in their own way. Tara would be invited to share the day with Fentons, and she hoped the invitation would be extended to Kyle, too.

There would be carol singing, and a service in the church, along with the giving of gifts and a meal to celebrate. Despite the tragedy of the past year, Tara was feeling optimistic, and Kyle's arrival had lifted a considerable weight from her shoulders—one she hadn't entirely realized the burden of until now.

"I've arrived in good time, then. But I want to help you, Tara," he said. "Please, just tell me what needs doing and I'll do it. You'll have to show me how things work, but I'm a quick learner, and I want to help."

Tara smiled. "Well… just take a few days to settle in. It's all going to feel quite different to Chicago, I'm sure. I'll introduce you to a few people—Sheriff Fenton, Doctor Reardon, Gina, and Tiffany. Gina's my best friend. She's Sheriff Fenton's sister, and Tiffany's his wife. They've all been so good to me since my father died," Tara said.

Kyle nodded, a sympathetic look coming over his face, and he reached out to put his hand on Tara's arm.

"I know it's been difficult for you. And that's another reason why I want to help. You've been through a lot these past few months, Tara. But I'm going to do everything I can to help you. I promise," he said.

"I'm really glad you're here. I wasn't sure at first… I don't mean…" she stammered, blushing as she realized what she was saying.

But Kyle only smiled and shook his head.

"I had my doubts, too. But seeing you now, and getting a chance to really talk… I know we'll get on well. And even if marriage isn't what ends up happening, I'm sure we'll become the closest of friends," he said.

Tara was relieved to hear these words. If this arrangement was to work, it had to work for both of them. A few letters hardly made a romance. They were just the beginning, and in the coming weeks and months, the two of them would get to know one another better, and perhaps even fall in love.

"I hope so. But you must be hungry after your journey. Shall we eat? I'm afraid I don't have a lot of food in, but I'm sure we can manage. There's the soup I mentioned, and I've got a loaf of bread from yesterday," Tara said.

She hastily set the table, indicating for him to sit as she turned her attention to the stove, kindling the fire and placing the pan of soup to warm. It was nice to have company, and Tara cut slices of bread from the loaf, placing the board on the table and offering Kyle a drink.

"There's some bourbon left. My father drank it, but I don't touch the stuff. Or some wine, perhaps? Something to keep out the chill?" Tara said, and Kyle nodded.

"Bourbon, thank you. This is very kind of you. I don't want to impose. I can get a drink at the saloon later on," he said, but Tara wouldn't hear of it.

She wanted to be hospitable. Kyle had traveled thousands of miles to Freemont, and the least she could do was to offer him a meal and a drink. If they were to get to know one another, they would only do so by spending time together. She poured him a glass of bourbon before ladling out two bowls of soup for them both.

"You're not imposing. I just wish I was more prepared. We've had a busy time at the clinic these past few days. There's been a man admitted who's lost his memory. He doesn't know who he is or where he came from," she said, and Kyle looked at her with interest.

"How curious. Is he a madman?" he asked, dunking a piece of bread into the bowl of soup.

Tara shook her head. "No, not at all. I was the one that found him. I visit a patient on the pass above the town—the Johnson ranch," she said. "Anyway, we were coming back—Stanley and I—and we heard a cry for help. He'd fallen off the path, and he had a nasty injury to his head and a broken leg. I don't think he remembers anything. Not even his name."

Kyle furrowed his brow. "To not remember anything at all… it seems remarkable. Do you think he'll recover?"

Tara shrugged. She hoped so, and yet the prognosis did not seem good. John Smith was sitting up in bed. He was awake and could talk.

But it was as though a veil had descended between the past and the present, one through which he could not see to remember. There was still the hope of Sheriff Fenton finding someone who might know him, and his memory being restored by the familiar. But for now, John Smith would remain a mystery. As much to himself as others.

"I don't know. We'll see, I suppose. I'm due back there tomorrow, and we'll just have to see how he is. Do you want more soup?" she asked, and Kyle smiled.

"Yes, please. It's delicious. You can certainly cook, Miss Culden, or should I call you Nurse Culden? Is there no end to your talents?" he asked, and Tara blushed.

"You can call me Tara… I think that's allowed," she replied.

He was charming, and as the afternoon drew on, it felt to Tara as though she had always known him. He was good company, with a friendly disposition and a kindly way about him, just as his letters had promised.

When eventually it was time for him to go the boarding house, Tara knew she would look forward to his return the next day. She walked across the street with him, and as they said goodnight to one another, she allowed herself to hope there could be more between them than just friendship.

"I'm really glad you're here," she said as they stood on the steps of the boarding house.

"I am, too. But you should go back inside. Don't get cold. I'll see you tomorrow. Do you want me to feed the animals while you're at the clinic?" he asked.

Again, Tara felt a sense of a burden lifted, and she nodded, thanking him for his kindness.

"You don't know what a help that would be. Yes, thank you. It's easy enough. Just make sure no one goes hungry and they've all got shelter from the snow," she said.

He nodded, smiling at her as he placed his hand on her arm. A shiver ran through her at his touch.

"I'll see to everything, don't worry. Goodnight," he said, and they parted company, Kyle watching to make sure she got home safely.

As she closed the door of the house, Tara breathed a sigh of relief. Oh, he's just perfect . She smiled at the thought of everything that lay ahead.