A Texas-Made Match. Noelle Marchand

you’ve been telling everyone that I’m engaged to Lawson.”

      “Yes?”

      “But I’m not!”

      Mrs. Greene sniffed disdainfully. “Well, of course you are. I saw him get down on his knee and propose. It’s pure nonsense keeping the engagement hidden when you know both families will approve. Why should I keep your secret for you?”

      “It isn’t a secret! I mean, it isn’t an engagement!” Ellie shook her head to clear her confusion. “Lawson was just teasing me—he proposed as a joke. As soon as he was done, I punched him on the shoulder and then we both had a good laugh about it. That was it! Or it should have been, except that you had to go and tell everyone. Now the whole town has gotten the wrong idea.”

      “Have they?” Mrs. Greene tilted her head. “Are you sure?”

      “Yes, I’m sure! I thought it was obvious we were joking and that you were just telling people it was real as a prank. You know, like the ones I used to pull.” She probably shouldn’t have reminded Mrs. Greene about the pranks. The woman’s face turned a little red so Ellie rushed on. “I just thought that if we talked—if I apologized for the way I used to behave—maybe you could tell people that you were mistaken.”

      “Hmm.” There was a long pause as Mrs. Greene pondered the matter. “No.”

      Ellie was so stunned that it took her a minute before she could speak. “No?”

      “I don’t believe I will.” Mrs. Greene’s laugh was tinged with pity. “Did you really think a half-sincere apology would fix everything? Oh, no. I think it’s high time someone gave you a taste of your own medicine.”

      “What medicine? I don’t spread false stories about other people.”

      “No. You prefer true ones,” Mrs. Greene said before she paled slightly then hurried on. “Never mind, Ellie. I accept your apology but I doubt anything I say will stop this train now that it’s on the tracks. Everyone will begin meddling in your life just as you’ve always meddled in theirs. We’ll see how you like it.”

      Ellie surveyed the woman carefully then shook her head slowly. “That isn’t what you meant about getting a taste of my own medicine. What true story do you think I spread?”

      “I really must go.”

      Ellie stopped the woman with a quick hand on her arm. “No, Mrs. Greene. I think you’d better stay and tell me what this is all about. I’ve always sensed you didn’t like me. I’d like to know why.”

      Mrs. Greene stared at her. “You really don’t remember?”

      She shook her head. “Should I?”

      Ire momentarily rose in the woman’s eyes. She gave a tight nod then sat down on the bench. “I daresay you should. I certainly do.”

      Ellie waited as Mrs. Greene gathered her thoughts. Finally, the woman met her gaze. “I used to be good friends with your mother. You remember that, at least.”

      “Vaguely.” She took the seat at the far side of the bench. “I was only eight when they died.”

      “I know,” Mrs. Greene said quietly. “Once I went to visit your mother. You were home from school because you weren’t feeling well. You’d fallen asleep on the settee as your mother and I talked, so I felt it was all right if I shared a confidence. Your mother was so sweet. She even prayed that I would accept the fact that God’s love had covered my sins. That was the end of it, or so I thought.

      “The next day my daughter came home crying.” Mrs. Greene surveyed her scathingly. “You hadn’t been asleep after all. You’d heard every word and repeated it to your friends at school. The whole town knew in a matter of hours.”

      Ellie frowned in confusion. “Knew what?”

      Mrs. Greene’s words were quiet, steady, yet bore a trace of shame. “I bore my daughter out of wedlock.”

      Ellie gasped—not at Mrs. Greene’s words but at what that meant about her. “You mean, I told everyone that?”

      “You certainly did.”

      “Oh, no. I’m so sorry!”

      The woman fiddled with her reticule. “Your parents came to me a few days later and apologized. They said you repeated the story without knowing what it meant. Unfortunately, the rest of the town did.”

      “My parents...” she murmured as she blinked away a vague semblance of a memory. It returned with vengeance. She remembered overhearing the conversation, telling the older girls and feeling so important when they gasped. She also recalled the disappointment on her parents’ faces when she’d admitted it. The disappointment in their voices...

      That vague feeling of guilt overcame her with startling intensity. Quickly, she pushed it away—blocked those memories from her thoughts. She didn’t want to examine them. She didn’t want to remember. She rose abruptly from the bench to look down at Mrs. Greene. “Don’t tell me any more. I understand. I’m sorry. I—I don’t want to talk about this ever again.”

      Odd, how Mrs. Greene didn’t seem startled by her reaction. She just nodded slowly. As if she knew something Ellie didn’t.

      “Everyone has something to be ashamed of, Ellie,” Mrs. Greene said quietly. “You exposed my secret and humiliated me and my family in front of the whole town. But you’re not innocent, either. The things you’ve done have brought down terrible consequences on your family, too.”

      Ellie stared at the woman. What terrible consequences? What had she done that caused so much harm? Could it be possible that after all these years of suppressing it, that strange sense of guilt actually meant something? Was it something Mrs. Greene—and Mrs. Greene only—was somehow intimately aware of? It must have to do with her parents...with their disappointment in her. She swallowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

      “Perhaps not.” The woman smiled ruefully. “Perhaps it’s just as well you don’t. We won’t speak of this again. I have to go.”

      She watched Mrs. Greene walk away then sank onto the bench. She felt so guilty—almost dirty. She wasn’t sure how long she sat there but she slowly became aware of the man standing before her. She shook the clouds from her head to meet the stranger’s blue eyes. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

      “I said I’m new here. I just got off the train, in fact. I’m looking for the boardinghouse.”

      “The boardinghouse—” That’s as far as she got before tears began to run down her cheeks.

      A look of panic crossed the young man’s face before he sat beside her and handed her a handkerchief. “There, now. If it’s such a horrible place, I won’t go anywhere near it.”

      She gave a watery laugh. “I’m sorry. The boardinghouse is a wonderful place. I just had an unsettling conversation, that’s all. You mustn’t mind me.”

      “Ellie, I’ve been looking all over for you.”

      She jumped up to greet Lawson. “I’m sorry for leaving you like that. I just had to speak to Mrs. Greene.”

      He eyed the handkerchief in her hand. “I’m guessing that didn’t go well.”

      “She said some awful things. She also said that she thought the story was true when she shared it—but even now that she knows it isn’t, she’ll do nothing to stop it from spreading. I was right. She wants to get back at me for...everything.”

      “Well, let her have her fun.” He caught her arms to give them a supportive squeeze. “We won’t let it bother us.”

      A weak smile was all she could offer in return. After all, he wasn’t the one with an ominous secret lurking somewhere in a memory. A throat cleared behind them. She followed Lawson’s gaze when it traveled past her to the man standing patiently