Authors: Wendy Lindstrom
Tags: #Historical Romance, #New York Times Bestselling Author, #USA Today Bestselling Author
“Mama, please send him away,” Rebecca pleaded, when her mother announced that Adam was waiting in the parlor for her.
Ten days had passed since her accident, and although her pain had lessened and she was growing stronger each day, she was restless and irritable. She simply couldn’t bear another day of witnessing the disappointment in Adam’s eyes when she couldn’t remember their past or him—because it made her ache to know she had lost so much.
“Are you certain you can’t visit with him for a while?” her mother asked, standing in the doorway of Rebecca’s bedroom, a damp, kitchen linen draped over her forearm. “He says he’s excited to share something with you.”
Rebecca raised her hands as if to ward off any more love stories from the fiancé she didn’t know. The man was breaking her heart and making her head ache. “I can’t breathe when I’m with him, Mama. He tries so hard and... I want to remember, but nothing comes. It’s just a black hole of... nothing.” She buried her face in her shaking hands, her level of distress making her want to weep. “Please, Mama. I can’t bear to see him today.”
The gentle stroke of her mother’s hand over her sore shoulder made Rebecca choke back a sob. She was a mess inside and out.
“Get dressed, sweetheart. After I send Adam off, I want to show you something.”
Rebecca cast a surprised look at the gentle, loving woman whose loving care had kept her from breaking into a million pieces. “You’ll send him away?” she asked.
“Yes, but I think you’ll want to see him again, and probably soon,” her mother said, her voice reassuring.
Rebecca doubted it, but she said, “All right. I’ll be down shortly.”
“Do you need help dressing?”
“No, Mama. I can do it myself.”
Her mother’s soft laughter floated across the bedroom like the spring breeze drifting in the open balcony door. The sound surprised Rebecca and lightened her spirit in an odd way.
“You used those same words when you were a little girl learning to dress yourself. Hearing them now reminded me what a little darling you were and how lucky I was to be blessed with such a beautiful daughter.”
Stunned, Rebecca sat on her bed gazing up at this woman she gladly called mother. “I suspect I was the lucky one,” she said, softly, “but thank you, Mama.”
Her mother kissed the top of her head and then left the room.
Rebecca sat alone for several minutes, rubbing the patch of clipped hair on the back of her head, absorbing what had happened and how the exchange with her mother, albeit a bit awkward, made her feel less alone. Not recognizing the people around her made her feel lost. She wanted to withdraw from their watchfulness and the hopeful gleam in their eyes. She wanted to place her palms over her ears and shut out their stream of stories and past conversations she was supposed to remember but couldn’t. Only her mother kept the conversation in the present moment, except for her most recent comment. She didn’t push Rebecca to remember anything. She gave her space to think and seek signs that she truly belonged in this family.
Gingerly, Rebecca eased out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. The thick rug felt nice beneath her bare feet. After making use of the pedestal lavatory, she turned brass knobs to draw a bath in the enameled tub. When she’d finished bathing, she wrapped herself in her robe and then parted the tasseled drapes to peek outside. A sunny day greeted her. Family friends and neighbors had brought food throughout the week to express their concern and wish Rebecca well, but the parade of people had undoubtedly made more work for her mother. Tomorrow Rebecca would find a way to help her mother. The thought of having a few chores to occupy her mind brightened Rebecca’s mood. She just needed to get out of bed and
do
something. Helping her mother would be a benefit for both of them.
But dressing herself unaided proved to be much more of a challenge, however, when her head pounded and she wobbled on her feet. She’d been out of bed to use the water closet and to sit in the parlor for a spell each day, but always with the assistance of her mother. Managing to bathe and dress herself was exhausting. She fumbled with her garments and grew frustrated. But when she thought about herself as the little girl her mother remembered, her ineptness made her smile. She could dress herself, even if she didn’t do a very good job. Perhaps she could relearn everything. For a moment, the thought excited her.
Then she realized the enormity of the task and tossed her brush onto the dressing table in resignation.
Her mother leaned in the doorway. “Ready to go?”
“Is Adam gone?” Rebecca asked, not wanting to face him after begging her mother to send him away.
“Yes, darling. He understands and says he’ll call again tomorrow.”
A reprieve of one day was less than Rebecca had hoped for, but she was glad for whatever moments of peace she was granted.
Her balance was still precarious, but she made her way downstairs with the assistance of her mother’s arm and the sturdy oak railing. Three of her siblings sat in the clean, sunshine-filled kitchen. They greeted her with smiles and then hurried outside to play. Her mother made her eat a hardboiled egg and a biscuit slathered with butter before they, too, went outside.
For the first time in more than a week, Rebecca enjoyed her first step outside.
Seconds passed as she stood on the painted pine slats of their wide porch with her eyes closed, feeling the sunshine on her face and the lilac scented air filling her lungs. The sound of her siblings giggling and calling to each other drifted to her, but they were distant and non-threatening.
So this was the sound of home...
Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw the man who claimed to be her father leading a horse out of the livery.
He looked up with surprise and gladness filling his expression.
Instinctively, she drew back worried he would greet her with the warmth he bestowed on all his children. Knowing her lack of recognition would wound him made her feel sick inside. She didn’t want to hurt any of the kind people who were doing their best to help her recover.
“It’s all right, Rebecca,” her mother said, taking her arm and guiding her down the steps. “I’ve already told your father that this is our time. He’s happy enough just knowing you’re up and around today.”
So together they walked toward the paddock attached to the livery. As they passed him, her father nodded to acknowledge her and winked as if to say he’d gotten the message to stay away.
Her face heated and she felt small for pushing him away. She was pushing them all away, but she couldn’t help it. Being in the midst of so many strangers, however warm-hearted and kind was... stifling. She couldn’t think, or breathe, with so many conversations and details assaulting her brain.
“Where are we going?” she asked, pulling her thoughts back to the glorious day and the small respite she’d been granted.
Her mother stopped beside the split rail fence of the paddock. “Right here,” she said, leaning her elbows on the fence and gazing into the paddock where several horses roamed.
The peaceful destination of their outing relieved Rebecca. She draped her forearms on the fence rail and admired the gleaming, magnificent animals grazing and frolicking in the greening field. A black mare lifted her head, flared her nostrils, then pivoted on her shod hooves and trotted across the pasture toward them.
Rebecca’s heart soared and she extended her hand to the approaching horse. “Hello, girl,” she said, as the mare pressed its white-starred forelock into her waiting palm. Rubbing her hands over the mare’s firm, sleek neck, Rebecca placed a kiss in the center of the white star, her heart filled with love and relief. “I’ve missed you.”
For several seconds she and the horse nuzzled each other, and for the first time since awakening to a world of strangers, Rebecca felt connected to another living being. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over her lashes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, wiping them away. “I’ve just been feeling so... so lost.”
“I know,” her mother said quietly, rubbing her hand over Rebecca’s back. “I had a feeling you would remember Star. She’s yours.”
Sniffing, Rebecca, dragged her fingertips beneath her eyes, wiping away her tears. “I didn’t remember her name.”
“But you remembered her essence. You felt a connection with her. You
knew
her, Rebecca.”
She had felt all of that, but she hadn’t remembered her mare’s name. It was the same feeling she experienced with Adam—until she’d opened her eyes. “Why I can’t remember anything? I can’t even remember my family or... or my fiancé,” she said, slapping her palm on the railing.
The horse flinched and back-stepped three paces.
“I’m sorry, girl. It’s all right,” Rebecca cooed, instantly regretting her outburst. She lifted her hands to the horse and clucked softly. “Come, Star. Come on, girl. It’s all right.”
As the horse moved back to the rail, showing her trust, Rebecca lovingly stroked the mare’s neck.
“She knows you,” her mother said. “She doesn’t know your name either, but she knows
you.
And you know her. Perhaps instead of trying to remember our names you should simply
feel
your connection with those around you. You are surrounded by love, Rebecca, and there’s no need to feel anxious or afraid.”
The idea filled Rebecca with hope. If she could connect with others as she had with her mare, perhaps she could begin to remember them. Perhaps she could anticipate her fiancé’s visits with joy rather than dread. She wanted to feel like the girl—like the
woman
—he talked about with such devotion rather than like an imposter intruding on his private life.
o0o
For three days Adam had been turned away at Rebecca’s door. She needed a few days to herself, her mother had said, but Adam wondered if Radford might have something to do with that decision. They had worked the mill together without incident, but they, and their crew, carried on without their usual lighthearted banter. Every man there understood the seriousness of Rebecca’s injury and the pain it was causing her and her family.
All Adam understood was that the woman he loved needed to be rescued from the fear and sense of loss she was experiencing. She didn’t deserve any of this pain or heartache.
And so he’d stayed away to give her time to rest and recover without feeling she was being hauled back into their relationship. Putting himself in her place, Adam realized how unnerving it must feel for her to be engaged to a man she didn’t know. It unnerved him, too, but in a much different way. What if she never got her memory back?
The thought was unbearable, so he shoved it from his mind. He lifted three long planks onto the pallet and grunted from the effort.
Boyd stopped to help stack the last few pieces of lumber. “You’re going to get a sore back working like this.”
“I need the hard labor today.”
“But you won’t want the backache tonight, so ease up.” Boyd nudged Adam’s shoulder. “Don’t be a hardhead like me. Manhandling this lumber isn’t going to solve anything.”
“You’re perceptive, I’ll give you that,” Adam said. “With that skill you might have made a good lawman like Duke.”
Boyd laughed, his teeth catching the sunlight as he shoved his damp brown hair off his forehead. “Can you imagine me a lawman?”
“Based on your character? Yes. Based on your personality? No.”
Boyd laughed again. “Sad but true. I’m more likely to cause trouble than stop it.” His smile faded and he locked his perceptive gaze on Adam. “Rebecca’s accident wasn’t your fault. Stop punishing yourself over this. It won’t help anything.”
Boyd could have smacked Adam with one of the eight-foot pieces of cut lumber and stunned him less.
“Adam, she came to the lumberyard on a busy day,” Boyd continued, “and she made the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not her fault. Not yours. It was an accident.”
Adam shook his head. “I shouldn’t have let her come here—”
“That wasn’t your decision,” Boyd said, cutting him off. “Rebecca’s been coming to the mill since she was four years old. She knows the dangers. She’s been told numerous times to stay near the gate or to make sure she’s with one of us. She’s as hardheaded as her father.”
“Radford knows that Rebecca came here to bring me lunch. She wouldn’t have been here if not for me.”
“Radford is scared sideways. He can’t think past the end of his nose right now, and that’s why Kyle, Duke, and I are going to send him back to the livery tomorrow. Until his head is clear, it’s too dangerous for him to be here.”
Adam’s gut clenched, knowing this would be another thing Radford could blame him for. “Why not just put him on a safe job?”
“Because we couldn’t enforce that without a fight, and we’ve had enough of those brotherly dramas. None of the crew will argue with Radford about where he can work. With Rebecca unable to manage the livery, it makes sense for Radford to step in there full time, plus he’ll be at home with her, so we’ll use that excuse and hope he goes along.”
Adam nodded. Radford enjoyed blacksmithing and doing a little of the livery work, but his heart was at the mill. Adam knew this because of the many conversations he’d had with Radford about the Grayson lumber mill. But maybe, hopefully, he would find comfort being home with Rebecca close at hand.