Matthew Caine walked slowly back to his cottage, the small box tucked protectively under one arm. He had not wanted to open the package in the company of so many, friends and strangers alike, but had elected to wait for the relative privacy of his home. The name on the return address was unknown to him, but something told him the package was of the utmost importance.
He entered his cottage and slid his coat off his shoulders, dropping the box on the table while he went to prepare some tea. When he came back, he stared for a moment at the plain brown wrapping, an odd sense of trepidation beginning to build in the pit of his stomach. The feeling annoyed him, and he pushed it firmly back down as he ripped the box open. Inside, he found a yellow sticky note attached to an unopened envelope. He reached in and brought the note closer to the light
Dear Mr. Caine:
My name is Madeline Johnson. You and I have never met, but
you were briefly aquatinted with a very dear friend of mine.
Perhaps you will remember, and perhaps you will not, but her
name was Alexandra Moffatt.
Matthew nearly dropped the note in surprise. He had not heard that name in over forty years. He continued reading, his curiosity piqued.
At least, that is the name she told me she gave you. It was,
I am sure you now know, her maiden name as opposed to her
married name. From what Alex told me, the two of you had a
very short 'relationship' together one night, years ago, while
she was vacationing in France.
I am sorry to inform you that Alex passed away some 25 years
ago. She begged me to find you and give you the enclosed
letter, but my anger at you prevented me from fulfilling this
final wish. I was a foolish woman then, full of too much
pride and arrogance. Now I am an old dying woman, full of
regret and shame. Alex left this world shortly after her
husband, leaving behind three orphaned children: two sons and
one daughter. The following letter, had I delivered it as
promised, would have changed that status for her eldest son.
Please forgive me for all the pain and heartache I have caused
through my stubborn pig-headed beliefs. I am not long for
this world and could not allow this final task to remain
incomplete. Please convey my deepest regrets and sincerest
apologies to your son as well.
Mrs. Madeline Johnson
'My son? How does she know about my son?' Matthew chuckled, 'And which son is she referring to?'
The note had confused him. Of coarse he'd known that Alexandra had used her maiden name. She had been very honest in that regard...after the fact. Memories surfaced and, as he sipped his tea, he allowed himself to be carried back into the past.
***1954 -- somewhere in the French countryside***
Matthew Caine sat alone at a small table outside of his favorite cafe. The patio overlooked a beautifully landscaped garden accented by a marble fountain. He had arrived in France only a few weeks prior, having recently regained his memory after a horrible accident in the Himalayan Mountains. The doctors had advised him to take at least a few months to allow himself to fully heal, so he had chosen to come to the French countryside to recover before setting off in search of his teen-aged son, Kwai Chang.
A slight breeze blew across his face and he turned his attention to the relaxing view. Suddenly, the gorgeous view was blocked by one even more breath-taking. Rich auburn curls hung down to the woman's tiny waist and she was dressed in a casual black sundress that perfectly complemented her pale ivory complexion. The little he could see of her ankles were wrapped in the black straps of her low healed sandals. She was obviously looking for someone, he noted, as her flashing green eyes searched the café from behind wayward bangs. He stood up and took a step in her direction, unable to stop himself from offering his assistance.
"You seem troubled. May I be of assistance?"
She turned to him, startled, and smiled. Matthew momentarily forgot his own name.
"Perhaps you can at that, sir. I was supposed to meet someone here, about," she looked down at her watch, "oh, twenty minutes ago. You haven't, by chance, noticed a man hanging around looking irritated and impatient?"
"No, ma'am. In fact, I have been here for almost an hour now and have not seen any single gentlemen even come near the building."
She sighed heavily and looked resigned.
"I beg your pardon, ma'am, but, if you don't mind me saying so, he must be a real fool for..." Matthew carefully considered his next words, "...standing you up?"
The look she shot him was unidentifiable, but it quickly turned back into the smile he had already come to cherish.
"Why, thank you. And I must agree with you, sir: Mark is indeed a fool." She held a deceptively delicate hand out toward him, which he took and pressed gently to his lips. "I am getting rather tired of this game he seemingly loves to play. My name is Alexandra Gri...er Moffatt. And you are...?"
He ignored the cover. "I am Caine. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Moffatt." He waited for a correction in title, and was pleased when one was not forthcoming. He waved the waiter over to the table and, after a quick lunch, the two of them spent the next hour or so walking in the garden, talking, laughing, and having an all around wonderful time. As if by silent mutual agreement, neither one of them delved very deeply into the other's past, although Matthew did mention Kwai Chang. As the sun began to dip back toward the horizon, Matthew found that he did not want to let Alexandra go. She did not hesitate at all when he asked her back to his room for a late night dinner.
The following morning, Matthew Caine woke up, anticipating another wonderful day spent with Alexandra. The previous evening had yielded far more that a mere meal. They had moved together in perfect harmony, something Matthew had not experienced since the death of his beloved wife, years ago. He rolled over to take Alexandra in his arms...and his eyes shot open. She was no longer next to him. He threw the covers back and climbed out of bed, looking around the single hotel room, but could find no sign of her. In fact, if it were not for the note carefully place on the nightstand, Matthew would have had no physical proof that the events of the previous night had ever happened. His hand trembled slightly as he grabbed the note and began to read.
Dearest Matthew:
Oh, Matthew, I am so very sorry about last night. I was angry
and hurt and let my emotions over take my senses. God, how do
I tell you this? I am a married woman, Matthew. Moffatt is
my maiden name. The man I was supposed to meet yesterday is
my husband. I never meant for last night to happen. I have
never cheated on Mark before, I was just so lonely. He is
gone so much, and I am always worried about him being killed.
We were supposed to be on vacation this week, but he never
seems to be able to allow himself to be "off-duty". I know
you probably don't care about the details of my marriage, but
I had to let you know that I never wanted to hurt you. I used
you, though I truly did not mean to. You were so sweet and
caring and attentive. It has been so long since any man, my
husband included, has offered me his undivided attention. I
will never forget you, Matthew, but we can never see each
other again. I cannot let last night, as wonderful and
amazing as it was, destroy my marriage. I hope you can find
it in your heart to forgive me.
Alexandra
***Present Day-- St Adele, France***
Matthew shook himself back to the present. What was done was done, it was in the past. He eyed the envelope in his hands and debated just throwing it away, unopened, but something stayed his hand. He looked again at the note from Madeline Johnson.
'The following letter, had I delivered it as promised, would have changed that status for her eldest son.'
The odd line jumped out at him. What did it mean?
End Part 1