Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) (15 page)

“I should love to see that,” Rebecca said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

“Perhaps I can bring you back to Crane Landing to witness her launch,” Adam said. “Laying the keel and launching our vessels are the most celebrated moments.”

“Oh, don’t remind me how short my stay will be,” Rebecca said. “I’m already falling in love with Crane Landing.”

Her comment raised her grandmother’s eyebrow, as if it surprised her to hear Rebecca express such a sentiment. Two months must seem like an extended stay to her grandmother, but to Rebecca it was merely a brief respite from everything she would have to face when they went home to Fredonia.

Adam just smiled. “Then let us make the most of your time.”

He guided them out the end of the building opposite where they had entered. Gigantic doors hung on tracks that allowed them to be closed against the strong winds that would sweep the coast in the winter months.

Outside, Rebecca experienced a moment of sun-blindness that made her eyes tear. “My goodness but the sun is bright today.”

“The reflection on the water makes it seem brighter. Reminds me of the day we took my dad’s rowboat out onto Lake Erie.” Adam laughed. “Someone I know ran out of steam on the way out. Guess who had to row all the way back before we were discovered?”

Looking up into his smiling face, Rebecca tried to imagine him as a young man rowing his sweetheart across the sparkling water. The image pleased her. She was sure she would have found him breathlessly handsome as a boy. As a man, Adam was dashing and charming and she was looking forward to learning more about her handsome suitor.

o0o

Adam arrived at Rebecca’s riverside home just before seven o’clock. Following the sound of voices, he walked around back to the porch where Dawson and Radford were already seated and enjoying a glass of mint tea with the ladies.

“Supper has arrived,” Adam said, passing a hamper filled with cold fried chicken, fluffy biscuits, and sliced berry pie to his grandmother. To Rebecca he handed an intricately woven beribboned basket.

“What’s this?” she asked, peeking inside as if expecting more food items for their supper. Her eyes rounded when she saw the fragrant mound of pine wood chips and sawdust filling the basket. “Oh... Adam.” She inhaled the scent of fresh cut pine she was so fond of. “The basket is beautiful and the smell of these shavings is divine. How thoughtful of you.”

Adam hadn’t blushed since his early days of trying to woo Rebecca, and it surprised him to feel his face warm now. Maybe it was Dawson’s grin or Radford’s raised eyebrows or that they were all looking at him that made him suddenly uncomfortable—or perhaps it was because this intriguing new Rebecca was showing interest in him. And what did his eager response say about his character? “Shall we eat?” he asked, shifting attention to the hamper of food he’d given to his grandmother.

“We shall indeed,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let me put this on the table and we can fill our plates inside.”

Adam carried the basket inside for her. The men followed the ladies into the kitchen where Rebecca and their grandmother set out their supper. With heaping plates they returned to the porch and sank their teeth into the deliciously seasoned chicken. For the first few minutes they ate in silence, each of them seeming to enjoy the sound of chirping birds and the river only twenty paces away.

“I think I could be perfectly happy to spend the rest of my life right here,” Grandma said, her fork forgotten in her hand.

“The river certainly has a calming effect that makes a body want to linger,” Radford said, his eyes cutting to Rebecca as if assessing the river’s effect on her. “What do you think of your little home, sprite?”

The smile Rebecca gave him chased the late day shadows from the porch. “I love it, Daddy. Thank you.”

Radford gave a nod in Adam’s direction. “This was Adam’s idea. I can see now that it will suit you better than a room at the inn.”

“There’s no comparison,” she said, turning to Adam. “Thank you for this wonderful gift.”

The warmth in her eyes made him feel like an awkward boy again. She hadn’t looked at him like that since before her accident—and this unexpected moment of connection felt so good.

Dawson stood and patted his slightly rounded stomach. “Think I need to walk off some of my supper. If you’ll join me, Nancy, I’ll show you where I live just across the river,” he said, stopping in front of her.

“Oh... well, I don’t know. I suppose a short walk would do me good as well,” she said, obviously flustered by Dawson’s attention.

“Anyone else care to take a walk?” Dawson asked.

Radford rocked his chair back on two legs and leaned his head against the wall of the house, his eyes already closing. “I’m happy sitting right here listening to the river.”

“I’ll stay here and clean up the dishes,” Rebecca said. “Go enjoy your walk, Grandma. I can manage alone just fine.”

And so Grandma, with her cheeks flushed, went for her walk and Radford fell asleep and Rebecca went inside to clean up. Gathering the plates, Adam followed her into the kitchen. He placed the dishes in the sink and asked how he might be of help.

Rebecca stood behind him, dish towel in hand, her eyes wonderfully alive.

“Oh, Adam, this place is so... I feel so... I can’t explain, but I feel as if I can breathe here.”

He nodded because he understood what it felt like to be under the constant scrutiny Rebecca had endured since her accident. At university the constraint of campus and classes and stiff grades chaffed like a tight suit. He couldn’t wait to shuck the ill-fitting garment and get back to the mill and the open yard. For Rebecca to have this quiet home on the river was probably a nice respite from living in the midst of a busy family and community of concerned friends and neighbors. Perhaps a little peace and space would allow Rebecca’s memories to flow like the river outside her back door.

“I’ll leave the dishes in the sink for now. Let’s put the chicken in the ice box and go on out to the front porch,” she said.

They stashed the chicken and hurried outside. Seeing Rebecca so animated again reminded Adam of the playful woman she’d been before her accident, and it gave him hope that she was indeed healing.

Outside, he leaned his shoulder against one of the sturdy columns supporting the porch roof and balcony above. Rebecca rested against the pillar opposite him, the porch steps between them. Their eyes met... and held...

She seemed to be searching for something familiar that she could recognize and connect with.

He looked for the girl he’d lost.

Neither of them found what they sought.

She swung her gaze to the vast apple orchard across the road. “It appears that apples are a big crop here.”

“They are,” he said. He didn’t want to waste a single minute of their private moment talking about crops, but he acquiesced hoping it might spark a memory for her. “This orchard is a good deal larger than the one at home we used to play in with your siblings and Leo and a number of neighbor kids that usually included your friend Helen Fiske. Do you remember her? She came to see you after your accident.”

Rebecca shook her head and continued to gaze into the orchard, her silence telling him she didn’t remember those times or her best friend—or the many concerned people who visited after her accident.

“Sometimes you and I would meet under the small bridge that crossed the orchard creek,” he continued, sensing her discomfort. “On a dare, I stole a kiss from you there.”

She looked at him then, appearing intrigued.

“Another time you gave me a lock of your hair that you had clipped for me.” Adam moved forward and drew her into his arms. “I still have that long silky swirl of hair stored in an old sea chest I found during my first year at university.”

She stiffened, but couldn’t pull from his arms because of the post at her back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately freeing her and moving a step back. “Taking you in my arms is the most natural thing in the world, Rebecca. You’ve been in my arms so many times, I forget that it must seem forward and inappropriate to you now.”

“I... well it...” She smoothed a strand of hair away from her face and met his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, Adam, or that it doesn’t feel... natural. It’s just too soon.”

He smiled because it wasn’t his touch she objected to but rather the pace of his courting. “If I promise to slow down, will you promise to speed up?”

A small surprised laugh burst from her mouth. Smiling, she shook her head at him. “Has anyone told you that you have a wonderful sense of humor?”

“You have, sweetheart. Many times.”

Her smile faltered but stayed in place. “Well, I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed. Do you think it would be all right with the owners if we took a walk through their orchard?”

“I’m sure Dawson wouldn’t mind at all.”

“Dawson owns the orchard?” she asked in surprise.

“This is one of many. He also owns several blueberry farms.” Adam offered his arm. “Shall we walk while we talk?”

Rebecca answered by linking her arm through his. “I should tell Daddy where we’re going, but I don’t want to wake him.”

“We’ll stay in sight of the house so he will easily see us should he choose to look.”

“All right, but I suspect we’ll be back long before he wakes. The sound of the river seemed to lull him like a baby.”

Perhaps, but Adam knew it was more likely exhaustion from worrying over his daughter that finally overtook Radford. He was even staying the night at the house to make sure his mother and Rebecca were settled and safe here. He would take the morning train bound for Boston and then another to New York, leaving Adam in charge of their stay at Crane Landing and ultimately their return trip to Fredonia. Although Adam’s relationship with Radford had become sadly distant since the accident, they were still cordial and could acknowledge that they each had Rebecca’s best interest at heart.

Still, the deterioration of their easy friendship cut Adam deep.

“You seem pensive of a sudden,” Rebecca said as they descended the porch steps. “Would you rather not walk?”

Instantly, he pulled his mind back to the present, back to Rebecca and his goal to help her remember their love. He gave their linked arms a light squeeze with his free hand. “So what was your best moment of the day?” he asked.

Rebecca smiled. “I remember this... I mean I remember that you said we do this.” She tilted her head and gazed across the orchard. “I would have to say it was seeing Grandma speechless today when Dawson Crane introduced himself.”

Adam laughed. “That was indeed a great moment.”

“What was your best moment of the day?” she asked, her face turned up to his. Black lashes fringed her brown eyes as she surveyed his face. He knew she was getting to know him, and he liked that she felt free to look, to ask, to explore him as she was exploring the world around her.

“This moment right here with you,” he said, unable to stop himself from brushing his knuckles across her lightly rosed cheek.

At midnight Rebecca crept downstairs hoping she wouldn’t wake her father or grandmother. They were all tired when they bid one another goodnight at ten o’clock. Rebecca had placed her basket full of pine shavings on the floor beside her bed and had fallen fast asleep. Two hours later a headache and disturbing dreams woke her with a start.

She pulled on her robe and slipped outside to the back porch. Moonlight streamed down in bright beams that shimmered on the river. Water tumbled and splashed and washed over the rocky riverbed. The night was alive with the sound of peepers and crickets and the cries of one tiny distraught creature.

“I feel lost, too,” Rebecca said softly in answer to the mewling cry.

Why was she plagued by such odd thoughts? They were too preposterous to have any truth to them, so they couldn’t be memories. Were they brought on by the headaches or was it something far worse like the signs of a deteriorating unstable mind?

The thick night air enfolded her like a pair of arms, as if to comfort her and quell her runaway thoughts. Crickets and peepers and the buzz of insects created a vast ocean of sound.

Everything at Crane Landing seemed bigger and more vibrant than the quaint beauty of Fredonia. At home, the burbling sound of Canadaway Creek and the quiet lapping waves that rolled in and out on the shore of Lake Erie were the sounds of home and love. She didn’t know it... she
felt
it. Just as she felt carried away by the gushing cascade of the Crane River and the undulating breathy roar of the ocean. Their energy excited her and made her want to bound across the ocean in one of those magnificent schooners Adam helped build.

Here at Crane Landing she felt healing and growth and a future were possible. In Fredonia she felt rooted in a past where she could no longer grow. Knowing that filled her with guilt. Her heart ached because she genuinely cared about and missed her family. The more time she spent with her father and grandmother—and Adam—the more she
felt
their love and her own in return.

Another mewl of distress filled her ears and she wondered for a moment if it came from her own anguished heart.

But the cry had come from the river’s edge and compelled her to seek the poor creature. A distant howl of a coyote made her question her decision to leave the porch. There was no telling what might be lurking in the dark shadows. Still, she went, unable to resist that small cry for help. Navigating by moonlight, Rebecca crossed the narrow patch of lawn in her slippers. The closer she got to the source of the mewling sound the easier it was to recognize it as the cries of a kitten. She found the tiny critter at the edge of the river bank.

“Hello, little one,” she cooed softly, kneeling to make herself smaller and to better see the kitten crouched at the edge of a swatch of moonlight several feet away.

She worried she may startle it away, but it seemed to understand she was there to help. The kitten ran to her on tiny legs the length of Rebecca’s small finger.

While the kitten sniffed and rubbed against her hand, Rebecca remained still, giving it time to feel safe with her. But the little fur ball scampered straight up the sleeve of her robe and tucked itself in the crook of her neck as if it couldn’t bear to be alone another second.

“You poor baby,” she said, cupping its trembling body against her neck as she returned to the kitchen. Once she freed the kitten from the tangle of her loose hair and collar of her robe, she promptly fetched a saucer of milk from the ice box.

The kitten purred and lapped the saucer clean as if it hadn’t eaten in days.

Rebecca stroked its gray-stripped back with her finger. “You’ve had a rough start, haven’t you, little tiger?”

The kitten was barely bigger than her hand.

Rebecca sat on the kitchen floor and trailed her finger over the maple floorboards.

The kitten batted her hand with tiny paws.

She sat there laughing quietly and playing with the kitten until it tired and climbed onto her lap. It circled once and curled up in the fluffy folds of her robe.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” she asked, knowing she couldn’t put the kitten back outside to fend for itself. “There are too many predators that would consider you a meal, little one.” As she and the kitten looked at one another, Rebecca smiled. “You need a name.” A quick check told Rebecca that the kitten was a female, or as close as she could tell at its young age. “All right,
Jojo
, I’ll keep you safe tonight and see if we can reunite you with your mama tomorrow.”

Feeling it safer to contain the kitten in her bed chamber, Rebecca fetched a wooden crate from the scullery and took both the crate and the kitten to her room. She closed the door and let Jojo explore the chamber as she herself had done earlier that evening. At a loss, Rebecca finally decided to use her knit shawl to line the box and make a warm bed for the kitten.

“It’s time to rest now, sweetie.” She placed the kitten on the shawl and stroked its tiny back, hoping it would settle and fall asleep.

Jojo wanted nothing to do with the box and was intent on climbing back into Rebecca’s arms.

Worried that the kitten’s mewling would wake her father, who had many hours of traveling ahead of him and needed his rest, Rebecca took Jojo to bed with her.

“This is just until you settle down,” she told the kitten, but as Rebecca lay there listening to Jojo’s comforting purr and feeling the warmth of its little body snuggled into the crook of her neck, she drifted off.

She woke in the morning surprisingly refreshed after four hours of dreamless sleep.

Jojo was not on the bed.

With a start, Rebecca sat up hoping the kitten hadn’t gotten into anything or escaped the room when her father or grandmother looked in on her as they often did.

Jojo was in the basket of pine shavings pawing the mixture of wood chips and sawdust atop what smelled like something Rebecca needed to dispose of quickly.

“Oh, my,” she said, throwing back the covers and vaulting out of bed.

Her unexpected flurry startled Jojo. The kitten bounded out of the basket and scurried toward the closed door.

Rebecca immediately stopped. “I’m sorry, baby,” she cooed softly. “It’s all right. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She spoke quietly to Jojo and eased out of bed. “Gracious you’re a stinky little girl, but also much smarter than I apparently am. Thank you for not soiling this lovely carpet.”

Pulling on her robe, Rebecca coaxed the kitten into her arms. “Let’s get you some breakfast and then see about finding your mama.” She carried the kitten in one hand and the basket in the other.

When she walked into the kitchen her father and grandmother greeted her with a smile, but when they saw—and smelled—what she carried they both raised their eyebrows.

“Daddy, would you open the door, please?”

Without a single question he leaned over, grabbed the latch and swung the door open.

Laughing, Rebecca stepped outside. She put Jojo in the grass where the kitten immediately started chasing a moth.

Her father followed her outside. “Where did you find that little guy?” he asked.

“It’s a girl and I found her last night when I stepped outside for a bit of air.” Rebecca turned back and surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. “I wish you didn’t have to leave today,” she said, and she genuinely meant it.

A look of heartbreak and fierce love filled his eyes and he pulled her into a hug. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you here, sprite.” It felt as if his strong arms could easily carry her and the heavy weight of her fears. It was tempting to go home with him and live within the safety of her father’s arms, but she was a grown woman and needed to find her own way.

“I’ll be fine, Daddy. Truly. I like it here.”

“I know, and that makes me afraid you won’t want to come home.”He rocked her in his arms as if needing to hold her for a moment. “What are you going to do with the little chipmunk,” he asked, gesturing with his chin at Jojo.

“I’m going to return her to her mother if I can find her,” Rebecca said, stepping out of his fatherly embrace. “I’ll introduce myself to our neighbors this morning and see if they might have a mama cat that’s missing a kitten.”

“They probably won’t admit it if they do,” her father said, a half smile on his face.

Rebecca agreed but hoped that wouldn’t be the case. She knew what it was like to be lost and she didn’t want anyone, including even the smallest creature, to experience that worry and heartache.

o0o

The five neighbors Rebecca met were lovely folks, several of whom invited her back when she could stay for a longer visit, but not one of them owned a cat with kittens. Even the Crane family and their staff had no knowledge of the mother cat, although Mary took the opportunity to offer Rebecca a ride to church Sunday morning, which Rebecca accepted with great anticipation.

Giving her search one final attempt, Rebecca crossed the river and called at a pretty little cottage on the hill. To her surprise, Dawson Crane sat on the porch with an old hound beside him and large fluffy cat on his lap.

“What brings you calling this sunny morning?” he asked, shushing the dog that barked but barely lifted his head to do so.

“I’m in search of a mother cat,” she said, smiling at the endearing site of the proclaimed bachelor revealing his tender side in such a sweet manner. “I found a five or six-week-old kitten last night. Could she belong to this pretty feline?” She extended her hand and let the cat sniff her fingers. “Are you missing a baby?”

“No,
he’s
not missing a baby,” Dawson said, laughter ripe in his voice.

Rebecca laughed at her mistake and scratched the cat’s head. “Well, I beg your pardon, Mister Catnip. Perhaps you know Jojo’s mother?”

“Jojo?” Dawson asked.

“I named the kitten,” Rebecca admitted sheepishly. “Might you have any idea where to find her mother?”

“With apologies to your tender sensibilities, Miss Grayson, but I suspect Jojo’s mother and the rest of the litter were likely the victims of the coyotes that creep in a little too close on occasion.”

“Oh, no...” Rebecca felt her stomach turn queasy. “I truly hope not.”

“Me too, but it happens. That’s why I keep Tuck and Sir John close at hand. The boys stay in the house or yard during the day and I don’t let them wander at night. There’s nothing but misfortune for our furry friends in the woods at night.”

“I’m sure,” Rebecca said. “Well, it seems I’m in need of some sawdust, Mr. Crane. Do you think I might get a basketful from the mill?”

Dawson laughed. “I think you could get a whole wagon load if you ask that young suitor of yours. I don’t work every day anymore, but I’m sure you’ll find Adam there should you choose to walk down the hill.”

“A basketful should suffice for now,” Rebecca said, but her mind was already at the mill with Adam. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Crane. I think I’ll take that walk now and see about getting some sawdust delivered.”

“Thought I might call on you ladies this evening, if you wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I’d be delighted and I’m sure my grandmother would greatly enjoy your visit.”

“Then I shall call around seven. I have a carriage come round each Sunday morning to cart me to church service. I’d be honored to give you and your grandmother a lift to service,” Dawson said, giving Sir John an ear rub the cat was thoroughly enjoying if his loud purring was any indication.

“Thank you, Mr. Crane. I’ve been offered a lift by your niece Mary, but I suspect Grandmother would appreciate your offer. When I return home I’ll pass along your invitation and let her know you’ll be stopping in this evening.”

Home
. The word resonated in Rebecca’s mind as she crossed the river and headed down River Road toward the bay where the mill sat... where Adam worked... where her past and future seemed to be tied to one man. She could sever that tie, she knew, but the truth was she didn’t want to. The more she saw of Adam the more intrigued and interested she became in him.

It took her fifteen minutes to reach the mill and another ten minutes for one of the crew to locate Adam, who was working in the shipyard. When she saw him riding aboard one of the wagons used to transport lumber and supplies from the mill to the shipyard, she felt silly for interrupting his day with a ridiculous request for sawdust.

When he spied her waiting at the outer edge of the mill yard where she’d been asked to wait, a warm smile lifted his lips.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him. From his windblown hair to his dusty boots he was a strong handsome man capable of turning any woman’s head—and he had certainly gotten her attention.

The wagon rolled to a stop a few feet away from her. Adam leapt off the seat and gave the driver a nod as if to thank him. The older man bobbed his head and pulled away, wagon rattling and harnesses jangling as he returned to his job. Adam surveyed her quickly as if to assure himself she was whole and healthy. “I’m honored by your presence, Rebecca, but must confess to being baffled as well. Is anything amiss?”

His concern made her visit seem foolish. “I had thought to make a simple request, Adam, but I fear I’ve been intrusive and inconsiderate instead. I’m sorry to have concerned you. Daddy is on his way home. Grandmother is fine as am I. I’m here because I’ve got a kitten that soiled the pretty basket and lovely pine shavings you brought to me yesterday. I came here hoping I might get a sack or two of sawdust for my kitten to make use of at night.”