Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) (18 page)

From above, the last loud
dong
of the church bell sounded and echoed across the land. The service would begin as the bell’s chime ended.

With a last glance at the stone, Rebecca rose and headed back the way she’d come. When she set the gate’s latch in place behind her, she realized she was the only one who remained up at the church.

Hurrying down the path to the water’s edge, she could see her grandmother and Dawson Crane seated up front with Adam beside them. Mr. and Mrs. Crane with Mary and Micah sat to Adam’s right, an empty chair between them—no doubt held in reserve for Rebecca.

Not wanting to interrupt the service, Rebecca took a seat in the back row. She would join her family after the service.

But Adam didn’t wait that long. She saw him turn and survey the crowd, searching until he spied her. Just as the homily began, he made his way toward the back and took the seat beside her.

All eyes were on him—on them. He was breathtakingly handsome in his dark suit and his wavy hair combed back.

He turned and gave her a lopsided smile that created a flurry of excitement in her stomach. “You are stunning this morning. The color suits you, my love.”

Flustered by his nearness and the admiration in his eyes, Rebecca fussed with the light fabric of her day gown. She loved the vivid sea green color and had spent a good deal of time with her toilette this morning. To complement the beautiful dress she’d added a small brooch set with seed pearls to adorn her high neckline, and atop her head perched the smart hat she and Grandma had spied in the milliner’s window during their first walk along the pier.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he whispered. “I thought I was helping you remember, but apparently that wasn’t the case.”

“I had fun skipping stones,” she whispered, because she had, and because it was her own inability to think clearly that created the headache, not Adam’s stories or good intentions.

“Is it all right if I come for supper again this evening?”

She answered him with a smile and whispered, “I’m looking forward to besting you again at stone skipping.”

They sat there smiling into each other’s eyes until a lady beside them cleared her throat.

A song of awakening began to swell around Rebecca as the congregation greeted the day.

With her special hymnal in hand, she proudly turned to the song that had been sung by the citizens of Crane Landing for many years. It was a song of a new day, a new beginning. How appropriate, she thought, daring another glance at Adam as she joined in.

Slowly, his lips curved in a
you’re-all-I’ve-been-able-to-think-about
smile that made her lose her place in the song. His quiet chuckle brought heat rushing to her face and another throat clearing from her neighbor.

The morning sun slanted warm against her back where her silk parasol couldn’t offer shade. A light breeze stirred the tendrils of her hair, as well as the leaves and grass along the river’s bank. She couldn’t think of a more beautiful place to hold an open air church service. Belying the strong current beneath the water, the river’s sparkling surface appeared calm. She was like that river, all churned up inside from Adam’s attention, yet doing her best to appear unaffected. Only a few ripples disturbed the face of the water as a trout here and there rose to catch an insect from the air. Two wood ducks glided in from the north, both making a smooth and soundless landing as the minister began the morning’s homily. His strong, sure voice echoed against the hillside behind Rebecca and across the expanse of the river in front of her. Just as the song from the hymnal, the scripture-based message of the homily was one of hope and new beginnings. Rebecca closed her eyes, reflecting on the message, and hearing the babble of a baby nearby. She smiled to herself, thinking of the infant and of a new life.

She thought about the songs in the hymnal and the song Cecily sang... and the new song beginning to form within her own heart.

I’ll find my own place here
, she thought again.
I may not be able to puzzle out my past, but I will give birth to my own new life.

At the end of another long week, Adam, Leo, and two other men had finished installing the schooner’s bulkheads. The other men laid down their hammers and bolted for the door while Adam and Leo spent another fifteen minutes driving nails to secure the last partition.

“Can’t wait to begin planking this girl tomorrow,” Leo said, stepping back to eye the sleek lines of the schooner. “She’s going to be a beauty.”

“They all are,” Adam said. “You are as in love with the Crane vessels as I am with Rebecca.”

“True, but each one is a work of art,” Leo said, taking off his tool apron and hanging it over the bulkhead. “I fall in love the minute I lay hands on these beauties.”

That’s how Adam felt with Rebecca, which was odd and exciting and concerning. Although he could see glimpses of the young girl he’d first fallen in love with, he was also seeing a new woman emerge that enthralled him. Each word from her mouth was about today or tomorrow, but never about their past. She was as new to him as he was to her—and it was intoxicating to spend time with this woman who was Rebecca and yet not his Rebecca. That both intrigued and filled him with guilt because with each step they took toward building a future, he felt he was betraying their past and the girl he’d lost.

Hanging his apron beside Leo’s, Adam knew they would find them exactly where they left them. They were the last men out and the first men in each day.

They walked back to the bunkhouse together talking about their day and plans for the evening. Leo was going to the Crowe’s Nest. Adam was going to Rebecca’s house where he planned to delve deeper into whatever thoughts and ideas now filled that pretty head of hers. He sensed there was much she wasn’t sharing with him yet, perhaps because she wasn’t comfortable enough with him. Today he would let her know she was safe with him, that he would honor her as he had always honored and protected their love.

But Rebecca wasn’t at home this evening. She and Mary Crane had taken a ride out to see one of Dawson’s many blueberry farms.

Adam ate supper with his grandmother and played with Jojo until Rebecca returned nearly an hour later. Her cheeks were flushed and she was in high spirits when she bid Mary farewell. She watched her new friend head down the road in her sporty phaeton and then walked to the porch where Adam waited with their grandmother.

“What a lovely visit,” she exclaimed, fairly waltzing onto the porch. “It felt divine to ride again. Grandma, you simply must see Mr. Crane’s blueberry farm. It was literally miles of blueberry bushes. Adam, have you been out to see them?” she asked, taking a seat beside him, breathless from her excursion and enthusiasm.

“I was there during the last harvest season,” he said, surprised to find himself a little jealous of Mary’s friendship with Rebecca. He wanted to put that glow on Rebecca’s face. “If you enjoyed feeling the wind in your hair then you might enjoy canoeing upriver.”

“Do you have a canoe?” she asked, her eyes alive with interest. “Oh! There you are,” she said to Jojo who scampered beneath her chair. “Come here, sweetie.”

“No, but Dawson and Leo each have a canoe,” Adam said, watching Rebecca scoop the kitten into her arms for a quick nuzzle and scratch behind the kitten’s pointy little ears. Smiling, he glanced at his grandmother. “If you’re not opposed to canoeing with Dawson it would be fun for the four of us to canoe up to Petticoat Landing sometime. I could borrow Leo’s canoe and have the Beacon make up a picnic lunch for us.”

“It sounds delightful as long as I don’t have to row,” Grandma said.

The twinkle in her eyes gave her away. If Dawson needed help with the oars, she would grab hold and do her best. She was the kind of woman who took care of people and kept them moving when they wanted to give up. She’d done that for Rebecca.

“I’m sure Dawson can manage without your assistance,” he said, laughing. “Shall we plan an outing then?”

Rebecca and their grandmother exchanged a look as if to consider the idea.

“It sounds delightful,” Grandma said.

Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her chest as if trying to contain her enthusiasm. “I agree! Now I simply must share what Mary Crane told me today.” A giggle escaped her and she leaned in as if sharing a secret with them. “Mary is sweet on your incredibly handsome friend Leo.”

“He’s your friend, too,” Adam said, but he was surprised that Leo hadn’t mentioned Mary—and that Rebecca found Leo
incredibly handsome.

“My friend?” she asked in surprise. “Goodness, we didn’t court, did we?”

“Gads, no,” he said, but it was the first time he considered the possibility of Rebecca courting anyone but him. What if this new, more independent Rebecca decided she wanted more than the boy from her past?

o0o

With a gasp of fear, Rebecca bolted upright in the dark, her arms splayed outward to push through the blueberry brambles in the middle of Dawson Crane’s vast blueberry field. The superintendent of the Maine Insane Asylum was trying to take her back with him. Doctor Samuel agreed it would be best for Rebecca’s family if she were kept in an asylum far away from home.

Fighting to escape the sticky web of her nightmare, Rebecca shoved aside the confining bed covers.

Doc Samuel’s voice resonated in her head.
You said you don’t want to live with your family.

“Oh, no... oh, dear...” she said aloud, the sound of her voice bringing her fully awake.

Planting her bare feet on the floor, she buried her face in her hands. Trembling, she gulped deep breaths and silently assured herself it was just a dream. She was in a warm bed in her pretty little house beside the river; not locked in a cold asylum because she’d cast off her family’s love.

She wouldn’t blame her family if they did lock her away. She should be home helping them instead of hiding out at Crane Landing.

Groaning, she raked her hair back and climbed out of bed. She hoped her outburst hadn’t disturbed her grandmother. It had obviously upset Jojo, who was hiding under the dresser peering out from behind the scalloped edge.

“I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Rebecca cooed softly, trying to calm both herself and the kitten. Kneeling, she bent over and peered at Jojo’s tiny whiskered face. “Will you come out for a saucer of milk?”

Jojo didn’t budge.

“All right then, you stay where you feel safe. I’ll return in a little while.”

Rebecca sat back on her heels, pushed her hair off her face and blew out a breath. The dream had been so real and frightening that she still felt a little sick to her stomach. But it couldn’t be real. Her father was a kind, loving man, not the violent person she’d seen in her dream.

Why was she having such awful dreams and outlandish thoughts?

People were sent to the asylum for any number of reasons, many of them far less disconcerting than her memory loss, hallucinations, and wildly irrational thoughts. Sunstroke, nerves, fever, asthma, and grief were just a few causes that sentenced one to an asylum. Even an upset stomach could thrust a poor soul into a hospital with locked doors. People with head injuries were prime candidates to be lifelong residents at an asylum.

That’s why she couldn’t tell anyone about her bizarre thoughts. Not the doctor. Not even Adam.

Getting to her feet, she drew on her robe and headed downstairs. In the kitchen she drank a glass of water and then slipped outside onto the porch.

Shhh... Shhhhh...
the tumbling river water seemed to say. Was it trying to quiet her nerves? To warn her to stay silent about the thoughts that nagged her?

“Neither,” she told herself sternly, her voice cutting into the night. The river wasn’t talking to her. The women she saw on the train and the beach weren’t real. The erratic thoughts popping into her head were not normal. She was imagining things and being ridiculous.

Sitting on the wooden swing at the end of the porch, Rebecca pressed her bare toes to the dewy plank flooring and nudged the hanging bench seat into motion.

She needed to get her memory back. Whatever it took she simply must get hold of her errant thoughts and begin piecing her life back together again. She couldn’t continue to wander through her days vacillating between hope and fear.

Adam knew her more intimately than anyone. After her accident it was the touch of Adam’s gentle hands and his familiar voice that had pulled her from the black pain she’d been trapped in. In that space just beneath consciousness she’d known him. She’d
known
him. She’d trusted him. Only upon opening her eyes had she doubted their connection.

She needed to learn to trust her other senses more as Doctor Samuel had advised. Maybe that would help her remember more of her life—and Adam—and keep the odd thoughts and hallucinations at bay.

Rebecca leaned her head against the high wooden back of the swing, and drew her bare feet up on the bench seat. As the rocking motion slowed, she slid one foot out to touch the porch column so she could continue to rock herself. The gentle motion calmed her—and felt familiar. Was she remembering her mother rocking her as a child? Or was it familiar because of all the time she had spent on the porch swing at home trying to sort through her confusion after her accident?

Weary, Rebecca closed her eyes. She was too tired to search for answers.

The gentle rocking of the swing and the flowing sound of the river lulled her into a dreamy state. Relaxed in a way she hadn’t experienced in as long as she could remember, she let the peaceful night enfold her. She breathed in the dew-kissed freshness of night air and listened to a chorus of crickets filling the night with their rhythmic song.

As a cork will bob on the water, Rebecca dropped into sleep for a few seconds and then popped up again, her mind floating in a peaceful wake-and-slumber manner that soothed her.

“Rebecca?”

Adam’s voice came soft as a whisper.

She tilted her head, exposing her neck to his lips.

“Are you all right, love?”

She smiled. She liked the endearment. She liked him. She liked the feel of his warm palm cupping her cheek.

His lips brushed her cheek.

She turned her face toward his and pressed her lips to his whisker-stubbled jaw.

His sharp intake of breath was pleasing and... familiar. “Are you awake, darling?”

Until he asked, she had thought she was dreaming, but Adam was here. On her porch. In the middle of the night. Her first instinct was to sit up and apologize for her state of undress, but she held back. Eyes closed, she drank in his nearness, his scent, the feel of his fingertips gliding across her cheek.

She wanted to experience this side of the man she was promised to. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

He groaned and pressed his forehead to hers. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

She opened her eyes and looked directly into his. “Kiss me, Adam.”

The instant his mouth covered hers a thrill shot through her. She slipped her arms around his neck.

As he deepened the kiss he sat beside her and lifted her onto his lap.

Reclining in his arms, eyes closed, Rebecca sank into the kiss... into Adam’s embrace, losing herself so completely she didn’t know if it was past, present or future, only that being in his arms was exhilarating—and achingly familiar. They had kissed like this. Her body knew even if her mind couldn’t recall the memory.

His heart thundered beneath her hand that she’d pressed against his muscular chest. Shaking, he broke the kiss, but neither of them moved away.

“Did we kiss often?” she whispered, her lips against his mouth. “Like this?”

“Not often enough,” he whispered back.

In the starlight they gazed at each other. “Were we ever... were we... intimate?”

“What?” He cupped her arms and eased her away. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”

She nodded. “I need to know, Adam.”

Even in the wane moonlight she could see the shift in his expression, the deep offense he took to her question. “Of course we haven’t been intimate.”

“Ten years is a long time to court.”

“No one knows that more than I,” he said, stroking her cheek with his knuckles, “but I would have never compromised you, Rebecca.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, relieved to know her virtue was intact, but more relieved to know she hadn’t lost the memory of something so beautiful. With Adam, lovemaking would be beautiful. That they hadn’t been intimate spoke volumes about Adam’s character. “I hadn’t meant to offend you,” she said.

“I know and I’m sorry, too. It’s easy to forget that you really don’t know these things.”

The truth spoken aloud wounded her. She wanted more than anything to remember her life and them and their love. “What are you doing here at this hour?” she asked, turning away from the painful thoughts.

“I grew tired of fighting Blue, the old hound at our bunkhouse, for the bed. I left that rascal sprawled across the mattress probably dreaming about squirrels and other critters he can no longer catch because he’s getting too old and lazy to run them down.” Adam laughed and shook his head. “He’s as bad as my dog, Scout.”

She smiled because his story was funny and because his love for the two dogs was endearing. “How long have you had him?”