Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) (10 page)

Boyd clapped Adam’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. “You listening to me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” Adam stepped back and gave his uncle his full attention.

“Radford and Rebecca are scared and neither of them can think clearly right now,” Boyd said. “You need to lead them through this. Be strong and be solid. For both of them.”

Boyd’s advice made sense, but Adam wasn’t sure how to lead when he felt as lost as the rest of them.

“Ease up now so you don’t injure yourself,” Boyd said. “We don’t need another accident.” With that, he shouldered his hand ax and headed across the yard.

Turning back to the cut lumber, Adam began stacking another pallet of quartersawn oak for the Wyatt Furniture job. He would call on Rebecca this evening—and he wouldn’t be sent away without seeing her.

For the balance of the day he immersed himself in stacking lumber and moving timber, planning what he would say to Rebecca, what he might do to assuage her discomfort with him and their relationship, what he would do if Radford tried to send him away.

Men talked and shouted across the mill. Horses snorted, their harnesses creaking as they worked. Saws and hammers and rattling chains, undercut by the intermittent scream of the circular saw, created a familiar backdrop at the mill, and Adam lost himself in his work. By day’s end, beads of sweat streaked down his forehead and his shirt was drenched, but he was full of purpose and determination as he laid down his hand maul and walked home. He would clean up, eat supper with his family, and then introduce himself to Rebecca Grayson.

o0o

The porch had become a haven for Rebecca, especially during the night when her family slept and she crept through the house, her mind barraged with images and fragments she couldn’t understand. Nightly she was driven from her bed by nauseating headaches. Doc Milton said her sleepless, restless nights were a symptom of her injury and that they would lessen as she healed. But she wasn’t healing.

She was harassed by headaches and tortured by disturbing thoughts and her own inability to remember any part of her life from before her accident.

Nightly, she sought sanctuary on the porch, finding herself there more often than not.

This evening, the scent of lilacs and fresh air and birdsong soothed her nerves and eased her headache. Everyone had returned to work or school, leaving her home alone with her mother and little Emma during the day and in a much calmer state of mind when they returned home at day’s end.

Today had been a repeat of all other days. Awake before dawn, her day was well underway when the others got up. She spent some time in the livery grooming horses while he father managed their customers and the heavy chores like cleaning stalls. Afterward, she took a nap and then helped her mother prepare supper.

Conversation was a bit overwhelming during supper, but there was something endearing about each of her siblings that made Rebecca feel connected to them whether she actually remembered them or not. Will and Joshua were quite the young men, each filled with big dreams that made their father laugh and their mother cringe. Tyler and Hannah listened with one ear trained on the adult conversation and the other on the giggling chatter between Sarah and Emma whose main topic focused on catching frogs and crawfish in the creek that ran through the apple orchard.

Rebecca had nothing to say. She had no memories and no dreams to share.

She had only emptiness and pain, which would have further burdened them.

So she’d said nothing.

The awkwardness and discomfort had driven her to the porch after supper. From the porch, she studied the world around her, hoping she might recognize the massive oak in the yard or the rope swing Emma and Sarah were playing on. Her gaze traveled beyond them to the orchard and low-limbed apple trees. Apparently, she had spent many hours of her life playing there, her parents assured her, but she didn’t remember a minute of it.

The sound of someone climbing the porch steps broke her reverie. The pace was too slow for the girls, who seemed to run wherever they went. She expected to see Tyler, who was a deep thinker and moved through his day with a studious, keen attention that required a slower pace. But it wasn’t Tyler or any of her siblings.

It was Adam.

She started to stand, thinking she would tell him that she was unwell and must retire to her room, but not a word crossed her lips because the truth was she was curious about him.

He reached out and clasped her hand in his warm grip. “Hello. I’m Adam Dearborn. I’m thirteen years old and I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl than you, ReBECca,” he said, his voice breaking in an odd manner. “My voice is changing, my feet are too big, and I don’t feel worthy of even touching your hand.” He grinned. “Thankfully, you have no reservations about befriending a mop-haired, clumsy boy who has nothing to offer you.”

“W-what?” she asked, at a loss.

“Today I hauled firewood for our stove, washed my face, and tried to get out of the house before Faith combed my hair. I pulled on my torn jacket and headed to the gorge, because that’s my favorite place and because I wanted to get out of working the greenhouse. The sheriff was there again, and I didn’t want him to see me and give me another lecture.”

“Adam, I’m not following.” Rebecca shook her head, wondering if her thoughts were scrambling again.

“Your uncle Duke is trying to court my sister, Faith. I don’t like him much because he caught me stealing a brush from Brown and Shepherd’s store.”

“Perhaps it’s my headache,” she said, touching her temple.

A crooked grin tilted his mouth. “I’m thirteen years old and all I can think about is a brown-eyed girl named Rebecca Grayson.”

In that moment she caught on to what he was doing. The idea was so unusual and so... sweet it made her smile. “Oh, my,” she said, pressing her fingers to her lips.

He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and said, “I’m Adam Dearborn and I’m pleased to MEET you.”

The sound of her own laughter surprised her and seemed to please him.

He stepped back, his gaze softening as he looked at her. Leaning one strong shoulder against the porch pillar, a half-smile lifted his lips. “Welcome to the first day we met.”

That he was reenacting their first meeting as if they were strangers instead of two adults with years of history between them moved her in a way she hadn’t felt since her first moment with Star.

She sat back on the swing and lowered her hands to her lap. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

“Tell me about your day.” He sat in the chair catty-corner to the porch swing she was sitting on. “What was your best moment?”

Surprise made her lift her eyebrows.

“It’s a game I play with my friend Rebecca Grayson,” he said.

“All right,” she said, somewhat hesitantly, but she liked the idea of starting over, of not being expected to remember everything. “I brushed my mare and fed her oats.”

He nodded, his eyes drinking her in. “My favorite moment was hearing you laugh again.”

That simple statement warmed her. Suddenly she was sorry she’d been avoiding him. This man was kind and gentle and had a wonderful sense of humor. And when she stopped trying to remember him she could simply enjoy his presence and his conversation.

“Tell me more about that awkward boy I befriended,” she said. “I’d like to know more about our younger selves.”

And so he leaned back in his chair and began their story. He told her how they explored Canadaway Creek and had private meetings at the willow tree they had claimed as their own. In the summers their families gathered at the creek to swim, and in the winter they gathered in their parlors or above the greenhouse to eat and play parlor games and share special occasions with each other. They skipped stones and climbed trees and went to barn dances and wrote each other letters for years, and never once did they question that they would one day marry.

Rebecca sat entranced, fiddling with the stone in her skirt pocket. She had no idea where she’d gotten the thing, or why she kept it, but there was something special and soothing about it. So she sat and let him tell her a story about children, about them—about
her.
She was learning about her girlhood and the things she’d loved—and she
liked
that lighthearted girl. More importantly, she felt a connection with that awkward boy who had first taken her hand at Agatha Brown’s store and had held onto her all these years.

o0o

Although Adam’s visit lifted Rebecca’s spirit, there remained a black void where her memory should be. Mothering four-year-old Emma felt natural, and rocking her little sister to sleep each evening had comforted Rebecca in an inexplicable way. She found that she could talk with her eldest brother, Will, without all the nervous upset she felt while conversing with the rest of her siblings. Perhaps it was because her middle siblings were busy, noisy children and their pace jangled her already unsettled nerves.

It seemed she felt the most relaxed in the livery, and she was grateful to be there now watching their veterinarian, Calvin Uldrich, treat an abscess on the shoulder of one of their bay Morgans.

“Rebecca, I’m in need of a curry comb,” Calvin said, examining Gussie’s shoulder. “Will you fetch one for me?”

“Certainly,” she said, heading into the tack room. They kept the horse care items on wall hooks, along with saddles and harnesses and reins. She took down the curry comb and hurried to Calvin’s side.

When she got there, he stepped back and asked her to brush the area around the abscess. “Just remove that small patch of mud so I can clean the area before I incise the abscess.”

While she sloughed away the mud, she stroked Gussie’s firm neck and gently probed the fluctuant abscess. “What did you do to bring this on, missy?” Speaking over her shoulder, she asked Calvin, “Will you apply a hot poultice to her shoulder first?”

“I will indeed,” he said, sounding as if he was smiling. “Your mother should be here momentarily with a tea kettle of hot water.”

“She’s here now.” Rebecca nodded toward her mother who was entering the livery at that same moment. “I can apply the poultice if you need to prepare your instruments for lancing the abscess,” she said.

“That would be helpful.” He set about cleaning his instruments with the hot water her mother left for them.

Rebecca prepared a hot poultice with efficiency and placed it on the horse’s neck. After several minutes of heating and applying poultices, she stepped back to allow the vet to lance the abscess. Once the pus had been evacuated they cleaned the wound and added a probe to allow the wound to close up slowly enough to heal properly.

Finally finished, Calvin straightened his aging back and smiled at Rebecca. “Seems to me you remember more than you think you do. Nice work today.”

Until Calvin had mentioned her memory, Rebecca hadn’t thought about anything but the task at hand. Working with the veterinarian was so interesting that she’d been completely focused. To discover that she knew so much about the process of incising an abscess intrigued and excited her.

Perhaps she hadn’t
lost
anything. Perhaps the details and moments of her life were just concealed by a fog that needed time to dissipate. Doc Milton said her memory could return in bits and pieces or in one single moment. What a welcome gift it would be to have even one memory of her life come to light.

Sunday morning Rebecca went to church with her family. The curtains of their covered carriage were drawn back to allow the morning sunlight to warm the inside of the carriage. Rebecca held Emma on her lap, as much for her own comfort as to make room beside her for Hannah in the tight confines. Her mother sat opposite her with Sarah and Tyler tucked against her, both of them sleepy and grumpy. Hannah leaned on the window ledge with her chin on her forearms, daydreaming about something that made her lips tilt in a smile. Will and Josh sat outside beside their father, who was driving their rig. Rebecca envied them the freedom to sit in full sun, inhaling the fresh morning air. It made her long to be on her mare, riding across the fields, but Doc Milton forbade her to ride for at least two more weeks.

Her father parked beside a row of other carriages along the west border of Barker Common. From there, they leisurely made their way through a throng of people—all of them friends and neighbors according to her mother—exchanging warm greetings as they headed into church.

Rebecca didn’t recognize one face. Each smile, nod, or greeting directed at her made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to respond to such warmth from complete strangers. So she dredged up a smile and returned their nods as she followed her family.

They filled several pews, cousins sitting with cousins and so on until they were one big blended family. In the midst of these people who knew and loved each other so deeply, Rebecca felt alone and lost—until Adam sat beside her.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his white shirt in sharp contrast with his tan face. To think that this tall, handsome man in his perfectly cut, three-piece black suit, and with a derby style hat in his capable hands, was her intended both thrilled and terrified her.

She was attracted to him. Intensely.

He exchanged a brief greeting with her father, who sat on her other side, and then nodded to several others around them.

Adam not only fit in this world, he thrived in it. He appeared to be the kind and decent man her mother and grandmother assured her he was. They had been the best of friends for years, or so everyone, including Adam, had told her. Perhaps she could embrace their friendship and see where it led. She could certainly use a friend right now.

And so she returned his smile and settled in to listen to the morning sermon.

With Adam beside her, however, her thoughts carried her away from the church and into idle musing about their relationship and their past. He said they had grown up together, played together, and attended their first dance together. They had laughed together and wept together. They had kissed... numerous times.

So many intriguing memories... and she had lost all of them.

It made her sad—and angry.

She wanted to remember him and this big family of kind-hearted people, many of whom had come from one confident, amazing woman. Rebecca knew she had a place in this family, but felt like an imposter playing a role.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking right now,” Adam whispered close to her ear.

The feel of his warm breath against her skin startled her. She bit back a gasp and glanced up at him.

“You are miles away,” he whispered so quietly she had to strain to hear him.

The truth was she was right here with
him
wondering what their kisses had felt like. Her cheeks flushed with heat and she hoped her father wasn’t aware of Adam’s whispered words or her lack of attention. She fixed her gaze to the front of the church as if she were listening to the sermon, but all she could hear was her own pounding heart.

During the service Adam’s solid arm fit snug against her shoulder. Despite the comfortable warmth of his body, she felt trapped between him and her father. She wanted to flee to the open pasture where she could breathe and escape the questioning stares of those around her.

The service felt interminable and she was strung with nerves by the time she filed out of church with her family. They couldn’t escape the crush quickly enough for her comfort. But instead of heading to their carriage, her family lingered in the Common greeting friends, swapping news, and enjoying their Sunday morning visit. Adam was pulled away by a group of men who seemed transfixed by whatever he was telling them.

The crowd swallowed Rebecca. She could easily determine those who were genuinely concerned about her because they clasped her hands, wished her a quick and complete recovery, and were sincere in their desire to help. Those who were merely curious asked about the accident, if she could remember anything at all, if she might remember
them,
and expressed their pity that she’d lost so much. They surrounded her, patted her back, hugged her, tested her memory, and shook their heads with hopeless expressions as if her life had ended.

Her heart began to pound and all she could think about was bolting away from the pawing and petting and voices that assaulted her ears and made her head ache. If she could reach the carriage, she could slip inside and drop the curtains and remain out of sight until her family was ready to go home. She looked around her, trying to find a way out of the crush, but the Common was filled with people from the three churches skirting the twin parks.

An older, blonde-haired woman, dressed in a high-collared, pleated blouse, a tulip bell skirt of dark green, and a pretty feather bedecked straw hat encircled with a wide ribbon of green satin, put her arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “Excuse me, ladies, but I simply must steal our Rebecca away from y’all now.”

Another woman of robust stature and brusque voice flanked her other side. “That’s right,” she said. “Tansy and I are holding Rebecca to her promise to come by the greenhouse and try our new herbal tea.” The woman’s eyes sparkled and she gave Rebecca a slight wink. “Don’t argue with your aunt Aster.”

Rebecca was so stunned she couldn’t have argued if she’d wanted to. Who were these women and where were they taking her?

They guided Rebecca through a park full of ladies twirling parasols and men with suit coats unbuttoned, cigars clamped between their teeth, and children giggling and scampering around the huge maple trees that adorned the park. She looked for Adam or her family, feeling an urge to call for help, but they were lost in the sea of people.

Once they were across the park, the taller white-haired woman waved her hand at someone in the crowd behind them. A second later she patted Rebecca’s shoulder that was still tender from her tumble off her horse. “Adam is on his way. He and Tansy will walk you home.”

Confused, Rebecca glanced from one woman to the other. “We apparently know each other, but I’m sorry to say I don’t remember either of you.”

The white-haired lady laughed. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. We aren’t worth remembering.”

“Speak for yourself, you old viper,” the blonde said, the drawl in her voice growing thicker. “I’m Adam’s aunt Tansy. And this old hen is his aunt Aster. Despite her words, she grinned at Aster as if they were old friends who had weathered many storms together. “We couldn’t stand by and watch you be accosted by those well-meaning but nosey ladies who intentionally cut you from the herd like a suckling calf they wanted for their supper.”

The image was so graphic and accurate that Rebecca shuddered.

“What nonsense are you ladies filling Rebecca’s head with now?” Adam asked, stepping into the space that Aster vacated at Rebecca’s side.

“A group of ladies that I shan’t mention by name were seeking fodder for their next quilting bee,” Tansy said. “We plucked Rebecca out of their clutches and brought her here so you can walk us both home.”

As Rebecca looked up, he looked down... and smiled. “Are you in need of rescuing, my lady?” He presented his elbow.

Rebecca willingly slipped her arm through his. She wanted to get out of the park and away from the questions, sympathetic comments, and the noise of too many conversations that were causing her head to pound. Letting Adam take her out of here was the fastest way to escape.

He turned and presented his other elbow to his aunt Tansy. “With two lovely ladies on my arm I shall be the envy of every man in town.”

Aster crowed like the old hen Tansy accused her of being, and said, “The envy and the
pity
is more probable. Run along you three. I’ll let Rebecca’s parents know you’re walking her home.”

“Thank you, Aunt Aster.” He turned his attention to Rebecca and Tansy. “Shall we stroll down Liberty Street or walk the creek?”

Tansy paused as if thinking it through. “Why, I haven’t dipped my toes in that water since last August. Don’t think I will today, but it would certainly make a pretty walk home.”

Adam lifted his eyebrows and laughed. “Truly, Aunt Tansy, you never cease to surprise me.”

“Which is why it’s your turn to surprise
me
,” she said. “Adam, make an old woman happy and bring my son home to see his mama.”

“Leo will be home for our wedding,” he said, drawing Rebecca’s arm snug against his hard muscled ribcage. “Surely you can manage to wait another two weeks, Auntie?”

“If I must,” she said, perfecting a little pout that made her seem girlish and cute.

But Rebecca didn’t smile. She was thinking about marrying a stranger. About Adam. About his reaction when she told him she wouldn’t marry him.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed their descent into Canadaway Creek. She would have been perfectly content immersed in birdsong, the burbling sound of the flowing creek, and her own roiling thoughts, but Adam and Tansy chattered like squirrels. They talked about a man named Leo, who was Tansy’s son and Adam’s best friend—and apparently
her
friend, as well. The stories Adam shared about the fun he and Rebecca and Leo had as children were sweet, but her inability to remember pulled her deeper into her own private hell.

“There’s our willow,” he said to her, pointing to a magnificent, flowing willow tree sitting on the bend of the creek. The umbrella-like, ground-sweeping branches draped over the water and rocky shore, creating a welcoming cavern filled with light and shadows.

Rebecca didn’t know what “our willow” meant, but she longed to step into that sacred space and let it shelter her from the world outside its long, drooping branches. Hiding was cowardly, she knew, but she desperately needed relief from the onslaught of questions and stories and the headache that was plaguing her now.

“Would you like to look inside?” Adam asked, gesturing toward the willow.

“I’d like to live there,” she answered without thinking.

He laughed and hugged her arm to his side. “We thought about it many times.”

“Go have a look,” Tansy said. “I need to give these old bones a rest. I’ll be over there sitting on that lovely flat rock.”

As she picked her way across the loamy soil, Adam escorted Rebecca to the tree. As if pulling back a curtain, he scooped a section of the drooping branches aside and waved her in. “Welcome to our sanctuary,” he said. “We’ve spent uncountable hours here talking, thinking, planning, and dreaming just about anything you can imagine.”

A quiet coolness greeted her and soothed her raw nerves. For the first time since awakening to a world of strangers, Rebecca felt she’d found a place of peace, a sanctuary as Adam had appropriately called it.

“How lovely,” she whispered, stepping into the small circular space beneath the tree. She gazed up into the arched limbs overhead and ran her fingertips over the rugged bark on the tree trunk. “It’s so beautiful and utterly... majestic.”

“This is one of your favorite places,” Adam said from behind her.

Awed, she turned to face him. “I believe that,” she whispered, afraid to disturb the peaceful moment. The scent of damp earth and pine from nearby conifers created a rich fragrance she tried to breathe deep into her soul. “I don’t remember this place, but I believe I came here.”

Adam cupped his palms around her shoulders. “We came here every chance we could steal away. I proposed to you right there.” He pointed to a spot four feet away. “The night before your accident we met here and decided not to wait for our wedding day in June. We love each other deeply, Rebecca, and we didn’t want to wait any longer to be together. I still don’t want to wait. I want to marry you right now and get through this difficult time together.”

Looking up into his brown eyes topped by dark brows and separated by a fine, straight nose, Rebecca could believe that she’d been attracted to Adam and had been eager to wed him. But this man before her, however kind, was a stranger. For her, their past was gone, and along with it her promise to marry him. To allow him to think otherwise was as cruel as the accident that had stolen all of this from her.

She eased from his embrace and took a step back. “I believe you, Adam, about all of this, but I can’t marry you.”

Confusion, disbelief, hurt flooded his eyes as he gazed down at her. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Rebecca.”

“I’m saying that I don’t remember you, Adam. All these things you tell me we’ve done are truly touching, but in my mind they are things that never happened.”

“But they
did
happen. You and me... we did those things and dreamed those dreams together.” He captured her hands in his own. “We’ve always loved each other. We’ve always planned to marry. You’ll realize all of this when your memory comes back.”