Author's note: this is the last chapter for the story. "Can't Help Falling in Love" will start posting mid-week.

Chapter Five

Heath awoke around sunrise and went to reach for Sharon; his last memory had been of them coming together. He was looking forward to further time with her; she was his wife. At that thought a surge of fire overcame him, and he reached over for her. It puzzled him that the bed was empty – no not quite empty as he smelled the remnants of a floral fragrance. As he went to sit up a shooting pain hit his head, while his stomach roiled with bile. Heath slumped back down and fell back asleep, the discomfort being too much.

The next time he woke up, it was almost noon, by the way the sun was coming through the windows of the room. The bright sun hurt his head and eyes, as he forced himself out of bed, trying not to throw up. Good god how much had he drunk he thought to himself, trying to remember the last time he had felt like this.

After he had made his way to the necessary and splashed cold water on his face he came back to his room and tried to make sense of his evening. He recalled Sharon in his bed – but wait she was another man's wife – how could she be here in Mexico? Heath then noted the sun glinting on a gold chain partially tucked under the other pillow on the bed.

He reached for the chain and slowly removing it from the pillow saw an enameled disk with a religious figure and Latin lettering. Heath let his fingers grasp it, feeling the warmth of the gold; he knew now exactly who had been in his bed last night. Unfortunately, his memory was sketchy, as he tried to recall the events of the night before.

Heath recalled how Magda's body had moved against his and knew that she had been in his bed last night. Heath shook his head as he realized that he had no recall beyond the image of Magda in her purple night dress, tight against her full breasts. Had he? It bothered him that he had no memory, but then he looked at the medallion in his hand. It gave him the answer he needed, and Heath knew he needed to talk to the Innkeeper.

Magda was in her office, a small room at the back off the kitchen, drinking strong coffee to combat the headache she had. Her hands were shaking, not just from the amount of alcohol that she had consumed but of what she had done with the American. In the light of day, she could admit to herself that she was as culpable as he was in their time together.

She had been drinking the brandy, something that she had not done since Franz's funeral. Further, she went outside of her bedroom in the tight satin nightdress that clung to her body – without a covering. Magda clenched her fists as she thought of last night, if only Heath had not looked so much like her Franz. There was also the matter that she could not find her father's medallion, which worried her. Had she taken it off as she was getting ready for bed? If so why wasn't it on her dressing table this morning?

The knock on the door caused her to jump, spilling coffee from the cup she was holding. Magda hoped it was not who she thought it was, as she moved the blotter to cover the coffee spills. She sat up even straighter, glad that she had put on her most severe black dress with a high collar. A cameo was pinned to the neck, and her hair tightly pinned up – all lending an air of modest propriety. She stood up slowly, and walked over the door, raising her chin as turned the knob. There stood the last person she wanted to see; worse he stretched his palm out showing her medallion glowing in the sunlight coming through the window.

Magda walked back over to her desk and indicated with her right hand – the hand that wore the wedding band since she was a widow – for Heath to sit in the chair on the other side of the desk. She had learned a great deal from her experience as an Innkeeper. She made a point to be busy tallying the record book in front of her; in truth she wanted Heath to speak first.

"I think we need to talk about last night." Heath finally spoke, after almost ten minutes had passed. She was sure that he had been hoping he would talk first. "This was in my bed, so I presume that we were together." He left the question hanging out there, and Magda now knew exactly how to handle the American.

"Herr Barkley you arrived at the Inn last night, very much worse for the wear and crying about someone named Sharon." Magda looked up from her ledger, giving him an almost contemptuous look. She saw him look embarrassed and knew that her plan would work.

"As you entered the Inn you broke a pot – the cost will be added to your final bill." Her facial expression was one of disgust.

"I could care less about your pot, Frau Werner. What I want to know is why your medallion was in my bed?" Heath decided to go on the offensive, not liking how she was subtlety belittling him. If he had been intimate with her, he needed to know, and make sure that that a child would not be left behind. Heath bore the hateful circumstance of his birth and had sworn that no child of his would ever go through what he had been forced to – even it was because of misplaced mother's love.

"I helped you to your room, because you were making so much noise and I was concerned about my other guests." Magda paused, and Heath noted how her eyes were now cold purple ice as they looked at him. "When we arrived at your room you went from melancholie to kriegerisch. You picked me up and took me into your room, where you threw me down on the bed. You were all set to ravish me, after discarding your clothes; luckily for me you passed out before anything could happen."

Heath was taken aback, as he tried to figure out the German words Magda used; if he understood correctly his conduct had not been that of a gentleman. Once again, he silently cursed at how much he had had to drink – it was why he had no memory of last night. He hated not knowing exactly what had happened, and there was the fact Magda knew exactly what had gone on. She had the upper hand and Heath hated it; what she did next only increased his fury.

"Herr Barkley you attempted to rape me. I could call the Grandarmes and have you arrested." Magda announced in a flat tone, as she looked him directly in the eye. "However, I don't think either one of us wants that since we both have reputations to protect. It is good that you are checking out of the Inn tomorrow; otherwise I would be asking you to leave. I do request you take your meals somewhere else." Magda stood up and walked to the door, opening it for him.

Heath realized that he had no course of action but to walk out of the office. His drinking had put him in the position of not remembering what had gone on last night. Further, her threat of charging him with rape weighed heavily on his mind. He was one of the owners of the mine – the main employer in the area. Frau Werner was held in high esteem and had the advantage of being a local. Heath knew all about innuendo and scandal, and the story had all that and then some.

The next day he left Rio Blanco, traveling north to catch the railroad spur that would take him and Charger home. The entire journey north was spent with Heath trying to recall that night at the Inn, but all he could remember was a vague recollection of Magda in her purple satin nightdress, and the gold medallion he'd found the next morning. In one small part of his heart Heath was sure that he had been intimate with the red-haired Innkeeper, but in the cold light of day he had no proof of his feelings.

It would not be until a September evening in 1883 that he would see the gold enameled medallion again, and finally get the proof of what he had suspected back in that Sonoran Autumn.