Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) (12 page)

“I’m eager to explore every inch of it.” She withdrew her hand, taking his hope with it. “I’m fine, Adam.”

All he could manage was a slight nod. “All right then. If you’ll all excuse me, I need to head to the bunkhouse and take care of a few things.”

As he got to his feet, Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “You’re not staying at the inn?” she asked.

“I have a bunk at the mill. I’ll stay there.”

“Oh...” She sank back in her chair as if disappointed.

Adam knew better than to believe she cared. She didn’t know him well enough to be disappointed that he was leaving, that they wouldn’t slip out of their suites for a late night visit and perhaps exchange a sweet kiss. It would be far easier to be back at the bunkhouse where he was used to being without her.

“I bid you all a good evening and a pleasant night of rest,” he said, sliding the heavily trimmed, high-backed mahogany chair beneath the table.

As soon as they said their farewells, Adam strode out of the dining hall and headed directly to the Crowe’s Nest.

Leo was at their table waiting for him to arrive.

Although it hadn’t been a full month since Adam had left Crane Landing, it felt like a lifetime ago. Unashamed they gave each other a hard, backslapping hug. Several other men greeted Adam with jovial shouts and raised mugs.

“Married and already itching to get out of the house, are you?” Dawson Crane asked with a sly wink as he seated himself at his usual table next to the one Adam and Leo frequently occupied.

“Not married yet, Dawson. Have you been keeping these boys in line while I’ve been gone?” Adam asked, quickly changing the subject as he gave Dawson a fond whack on the shoulder.

“No hope for them.” Dawson sadly shook his head. “Wastrels to the last man and they’re leading me down the same road.”

Since many of those men were seated around neighboring tables, a roar of laughter and ribald comments to Dawson filled the tavern.

The noise and camaraderie pulled Adam back into the welcoming embrace of his friends, a place he desperately needed to be.

Hiram, the barkeep, set down a heavy mug of ale with a dull thud on the scarred wooden table. “This one is on the house. Next one is on this ugly boy,” he said, thumbing at Leo. With that, Hiram moved on to badger the men at the next table.

Adam and Leo exchanged a grin and raised their mugs. Leo shared the latest news that their shipment of steel beams had come in. Both had mixed emotions about converting shipbuilding to steel, but it had to be done. Crane was one of the last yards still building ships out of oak and pine. European shipbuilders had been using steel for years. To compete, Crane and Grayson had no choice but to convert to steel.

“I understand that a steel ship will last longer, but a ship of wood is a work of art,” Adam said.

Leo nodded and eyed Adam. “It’s as much an art as your ability to avoid the obvious. Your telegram left much to the imagination,” he said. “Why are you back at Crane Landing?”

Swallowing his mouthful of ale, Adam lowered his mug. “I brought Rebecca here to see Doc Samuel.”

Leo’s eyebrows tweaked downward, his confusion obvious.

“She had an accident.” Adam dragged his palm down his face and blew out a breath. “She hit her head and... and she can’t...” Saying the words made it so real, so unchangeable, Adam had to force them from his mouth. “She remembers nothing that came before the accident. Not one thing. Not her family. Not me. Not her own name.”

Leo’s mug clunked down on the marred table top, shock in his eyes.

“She can’t dredge up a single memory of us,” Adam said. “I’ve shared several stories about our past, and even told her about you, but not one thing is familiar to her.”

Releasing a slow whistle, Leo leaned back in his chair. “I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head as if he’d just heard something so unbelievable he questioned his hearing. “I can’t imagine Rebecca not knowing you. From the minute you two met you’re the only man she could see.”

“Not anymore. She doesn’t want to marry a stranger,” Adam said, his gut churning. “She doesn’t want to marry me.”

Leo shook his head again. “I must be having a nightmare right now.”

Adam nodded. “Feels like it, only this is real.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Take her to Doc Samuel. Tell her about our past and hope it will spark her memory of us.” Adam shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Leo. I can’t lose her.”

“Adam... I’m sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Me, too.” Adam swirled the ale in his mug, more terrified he would lose her.

“Doc Samuel’s a smart man. Hopefully he’ll be able to help her.”

“Hopefully.” With a guarded look at the next table where Dawson sat, Adam wasn’t so sure. Doc Samuel had certainly saved Dawson’s life and worked with him until he could talk and tie his own boot laces, but Dawson Crane hadn’t been the same man since his accident. He’d once been the greatly revered shipwright for Crane Shipbuilding. He designed magnificent ships and helped increase the Crane fortune by half for his generation. But a fall from the rigging of the
Belle Raven
ended his career as a shipwright and nearly ended his life as well. After his year-long recovery Dawson Crane had become a common man’s man. Without a glance back he had walked away from his fortune, took up residence in a small house on the river and found other work at the shipyard more suited to his new way of thinking. He was still close with his family, but many a time Adam had heard Elias say he could no longer recognize the quiet, unassuming Dawson as the boisterous brother he’d grown up with and followed into the shipping trade.

Adam released a tired sigh and leaned back in his chair. At times he didn’t recognize this new Rebecca either. Extending his legs beneath the table, he lifted his mug, took a long drink, and looked at his friend. “If Doc Samuel can’t help her I don’t know what I’ll do, Leo. My whole life has been about Rebecca.”

Leo nodded, acknowledging Adam’s comment and his concern, but he didn’t say a word. What could he say?

They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the boisterous conversations and laughter around them. Finally, Leo braced his forearms on the table and leaned close to Adam. “You’ve got to make her fall in love with you again,” he said.

Because Rebecca may never get her memory back...

It was what Leo was thinking and not saying. It was what Adam was wondering—and fearing.

The fragrant scent of freshly cut pine at the sawmill was so lovely that Rebecca scooped up a handful of woodchips and slipped them into her skirt pocket. She thought her actions unobserved until she met her father’s eyes and saw his knowing and somewhat sad smile.

“It’s all right, sprite,” he said, quietly. “When I first brought you home to Fredonia you were just four years old and you had the same reaction to the smell of cut pine.”

Feeling a bit sheepish, she ducked her head. “It’s so lovely and... intoxicating, I want to take the scent home with me.”

His laugh brought her head up. “I’ve spent the majority of my life at our sawmill and the scent of freshly cut wood, pine and cedar in particular, is one of things I enjoy best. It’s not only intoxicating,” he said with a wink, “but addictive.”

“I believe it,” she said. “I could stuff my mattress full of pine sawdust and sleep quite peacefully, thank you.”

His open laugh pleased her. She could see that he was a strong man, and a kind and gentle father. She may not remember him, but she felt his love. As she looked up into his smiling face and sad eyes, she wanted to ask if she’d been a good daughter, what she was like, what memories they’d made that she’d forgotten, but his answers would only make the loss deeper for both of them.

“This is all so fascinating,” she said, her gaze taking in the expansive scope of the mill and shipyard.

As Adam took them through the lumberyard at Crane and Grayson Ship and Timber Works, Rebecca lagged behind with her father. She was enjoying his company and the sporadic conversation they were having amidst the noise.

Although the smell of pine intoxicated Rebecca, the noise made her head ache.

Adam paused and turned to face them. “I’ll show you how quickly we can take a thirty-inch timber and turn it into usable lumber,” he said, gesturing toward the mill building where an aggressive sounding saw screamed. He glanced at her father. “You’ll enjoy this new saw.”

Her father might, but Rebecca knew she couldn’t go in there.

The thwack and clank of hammers against metal grappling hooks, and the sound of slab lumber banging along a conveyer belt, created a dense layer of noise that set her nerves on edge.

Wagons and wheeled carts shuttled timber and lumber to various areas. One massive oak beam was being carted across the vast yard to Crane Shipbuilding. Around her, harnesses rattled as massive horses moved logs into the mill building. The buzzing whine of a saw inside tore through Rebecca’s head.

She pressed her fingertips to her temples to stop the jagged bolt of pain. “Daddy, I can’t go in there.” At his concerned look, she placed her palm on his hard arm. “Please go with Adam. I don’t want you to miss this. I’ll wait on the pier,” she said, pointing to the long wooden dock jutting out into the bay a good distance away. “Please. The respite will be welcome.”

“We can head back to the inn now if you need to lie down.”

Before she could answer, Adam was at her side. “Are you unwell?”

“The noise from the saw is making my head ache. Please go on without me. I’ll take in the sights as I walk to the pier.”

Her grandmother linked arms with Rebecca and pulled her away. “You gentleman take your time while we enjoy our stroll. I’ve seen enough sawmills, thank you.”

Radford nodded. “I have some business to tend inside. I’ll be along to fetch you ladies shortly.”

As soon as they were out of earshot of her father, Rebecca hugged her grandmother’s arm to her side. “Thank you. I was afraid they would take me back to the inn. It’s such a splendid day I couldn’t bear to sit in our room.”

“Then you are well enough to walk?” her grandmother asked.

“Yes, truly. The farther from the noise, the better I feel,” she said. “What a lovely harbor.”

The horseshoe shaped bay and the smaller, deeper inlet alongside the mill. The expansive ocean beyond the bay made Rebecca realize how small her troubles were in comparison to the vast body of water and the many creatures living in its depths. And yet, although she was just one of the small creatures in this world, her lost life mattered.

They strolled together without talking, both enjoying the sunny day. Rebecca rested the long cane of her silk parasol against one shoulder and allowed the warm sunshine to bathe her face. Though Adam had talked in detail about Crane Landing and the splendor of this special place, Rebecca hadn’t known how she would feel when she stepped off the train. Now, as she and her grandmother walked along the wharf and viewed the rock-strewn and sandy shoreline nearby, Rebecca experienced an upwelling of hope. She closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer that the doctor of this rugged, coastal land would have the skill and knowledge to help her become whole again.

She drew in a deep breath, as if to punctuate the prayer. The air—salty and fresh and tinged with the scent of marine life— swept away the ache in her head and stirred her deeply. The shifting and ever-present breeze seemed to promise possibility. So, too, did the constant movement of water in the bay and the roll of waves against the rocky shore. No wonder sailors left land behind and headed for the open seas, she thought, admiring the expanse of blue water.

Seagulls screeched and swooped through the air, their bodies flashing white and silver against the bright blue sky. The large flock of birds awed her. She marveled at how industrious they could be as a few darted down to pluck fish from the harbor or pick at the netting of a small sloop at anchor, while another braver bird swiped a crust of bread from the lunch bucket of a deckhand enjoying a few minutes of solitude.

She and Grandma Grayson laughed in unison at the sight. And then her grandmother tucked her right hand into the crook of Rebecca’s elbow and gave a gentle squeeze, as if to say
I am glad to be here with you
.

Rebecca tipped her head toward her grandmother. Though she had no memories of the past with this dear and sweet woman, she was fast making memories in the present and feeling great affection for her grandmother. For the moment, it was enough.

They walked and walked for it seemed that Crane Landing was a place with miles of wharves and boardwalks, all lacing the water’s edge and offering perfect views of both the land and the deep harbor. Small skiffs and various sized sloops dotted the crescent-shaped cove, their canvas sails white as clouds and belly-f of wind. From every vantage point, Rebecca could see the busyness of the town—from its many quaint little shops that faced the bay and held goods from around the world in their front window displays to the impressive buildings of the custom and government officials to the lobstermen working with their pots and traps. Mothers with children in tow moved quickly from the grocer’s to the apothecary shop, while businessmen in sack coats with matching waistcoats and trousers could be seen in the heart of what Adam had described as the business district. But by far, the sailors and lumbermen outnumbered all others in this pristine place.

A wrought iron bench sat near the outermost end of the pier as if waiting for the next lonely soul in need of staring at the ocean for a spell. The idea pleased Rebecca immensely. For a good while she and her grandmother sat on that bench, their skirt hems flapping in the breeze as they took in the beauty around them.

The salty ocean air and calming rhythm of the waves transported her. Lost in the simple act of looking, she found herself intrigued by a lone woman on the beach. Dressed in vibrant colors of orange and blue with several thick silver bracelets around her wrists, her red hair unbound and flowing down her back, she utterly captivated Rebecca. Her skirt was short, as if it had been rolled up at the waist to keep the hem out of the water, and it revealed a scandalous view of her calves. The woman seemed oblivious to the shocking display of her bared calves and feet as she walked along the water’s edge.

“Do you... see that?” Rebecca asked, so transfixed she couldn’t pull her gaze away from the woman.

“What?” her grandmother asked. “What do you see? Is there a ship coming in?”

Rebecca gestured to their left. “Just there. That woman walking the shore is... she’s shocking and... magnificent.”

“What woman?”

“There. On the beach.”

“I see no one.”

“She’s just there, on this side of that little outcropping of rock. She stands out like a cardinal in a flock of crows.”

Craning her neck, her grandmother rose to her feet, shaded her eyes from the sun and searched diligently for a full minute. “I’m surely losing my eyesight, my dear. I see no one other than those two men hauling their skiff out of the water.”

Rebecca saw the men. They were just beyond where the woman strolled, her feet splashing water up her shins, wetting the front of her skirt. She seemed not to notice or care. Her gaze was turned toward the ocean, her face beautiful in profile.

“She’s as exotic and colorful as a red-crowned macaw,” Rebecca said, in breathless admiration.

Her grandmother said nothing.

While Rebecca stood transfixed, watching the woman, her grandmother watched her. “Look again,” Rebecca suggested, pointing down the sandy beach. “She is wading into the water and oh! My! She’s pulled her skirt clear above her knees. Oh, dear,” she said, turning away as if she’d intruded into the lady’s dressing room.

Her grandmother caught her elbow and steered her away from the bench they’d been seated on earlier. “You need to get out of the sun, Rebecca. Adam and your father are heading our way. I’ll have them take us back to the inn posthaste.”

“What?” Rebecca pulled away, confused by her grandmother’s odd behavior. “This is the best I’ve felt since getting my head cracked open, Grandma. The sunshine and ocean air feel wonderful.”

“You’re suffering heat exhaustion and seeing things, my dear. We need to get you to bed.”

“Nonsense,” Rebecca said with a laugh.

“Honey, you hit your head hard enough to not know your own name. I’m sorry, but there was no lady on the beach.”

Rebecca turned and looked, but saw only the two men dragging their skiff onto the sand. The woman was gone. She looked up and down the beach and even let her gaze rove into the rolling waves washing ashore to see if perhaps the lady had gone for a swim, but she was nowhere in sight. “How... odd. She was just this side of those men bringing in the skiff.”

“The sun is too much for you, honey.”

Again Rebecca scanned the shoreline then looked again out into the crystal water of the bay. “Perhaps you’re right,” she said, feeling as if she’d just lost a moment of real beauty in her life. Was it really possible she had imagined the woman?

As her father approached, she looked up into his eyes wishing he could rescue her memories and return her life.

“What troubles you?” he asked, his brows drawn with worry that matched the concern on Adam’s face.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” Adam said. He shifted his stance, as if struggling to keep himself from pulling her into the comforting circle of his arms.

“Maybe I did, but the woman was so beautiful and alive, I want her to be real,” she whispered.

“What woman?” her father asked.

Rebecca told him about the exotic woman.

By the change in Adam’s expression, he had just glimpsed that same ghost.

o0o

Instead of touring the shipyard and learning about shipbuilding, Rebecca was forced to rest for an hour. Her grandmother suggested she lie down, but Rebecca wasn’t tired. She was eaten up with curiosity... and worry.

The woman on the beach had been so colorful, so vibrantly alive, she had to be a real person—because if she wasn’t real... Rebecca didn’t want to consider what that would mean. The truth pushed its way forward anyhow. Maybe it was another episode like the one with the woman on the train. If Rebecca was indeed seeing things that weren’t real, then her head injury had not only stolen her past but would jeopardize her future as well. People who saw things others did not were sent to an asylum. People who had irrational thoughts about those they loved were considered mentally unstable.

It seemed to be in her best interest to keep her visions and her thoughts to herself—for now.

After her forced respite, she ate a light lunch at the inn with her grandmother. Then, as they walked to Doc Samuel’s residence, she silently debated whether or not to tell the doctor about her odd dreams and the woman on the beach.

Doc Samuel didn’t leave the decision up to her.

The tall and lanky man, gray-haired with a protruding mustache, started his examination by peering at her from above his spectacles that sat halfway down his nose. “Your fiancé paid me a visit late this morning,” he said, gesturing for her to sit on a high padded stool. “He was deeply concerned about an episode you experienced this morning, one that is eerily similar to that of Dawson Crane.”

“What kind of episode?” Rebecca asked. “And who is Dawson Crane?”

The doctor didn’t mince words. “Dawson suffered a severe head injury, much like you have, and shortly after he claimed to have seen a red-haired woman walking along the beach.”

“Then she
is
real,” Rebecca murmured, feeling immense relief and satisfaction.