Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) (4 page)

“You look different,” she said, smiling up at him as she stood comfortably within the circle of his arms.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin against her cheek. “I didn’t want to take time to shave before coming over. I suspect I look like a vagabond.”

“You look dashing and a little... dangerous,” she said, her voice dropping. “I like it.”

He returned her smile, remembering this playful and slightly naughty side of Rebecca. Having this beautiful woman in his arms and his life each day and night was all he’d ever dreamed of.

“You’re the one who is dangerous,” he said, shaking his head and putting a few inches of space between him and his playful fiancée. “A month of waiting for our wedding suddenly feels like a century looming ahead of us.”

Her smile faded. “I know. Maybe we can move up the date.”

“Our house won’t be ready for at least four weeks. I’d rather not spend the first month of our marriage living with your parents, or mine.”

“We can sleep in the livery,” she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

He chuckled at their private flirting. “I doubt Star and her livery mates would appreciate our presence.”

Heaving a defeated sigh, Rebecca watched her ebony mare make her way toward them. “I suppose not.” She turned back to Adam, her eyes dark and filled with longing. “I’ve missed you terribly.”

Adam drew her into his arms again, unable to stop himself. It had been so long since he had looked into her loving eyes, touched her, and simply held her. “I will never leave you again, Rebecca.”

“I intend to hold you to that promise,” she whispered, her lips boldly brushing his, enticing him to deepen the kiss.

He savored their moment yet struggled to control the fiery passion that could so easily flare between them. She had accused him of being rigid, of being too controlled, but the truth was he had no control where Rebecca was concerned. He simply couldn’t kiss her and protect them from his consuming love.

A loud snort and hard nudge against Adam’s right shoulder sent him stumbling forward, taking Rebecca with him a few steps. To save them from falling onto the churned up soil, he swung Rebecca into his arms and twirled her in a half circle, depositing her between him and her territorial mare.

The joyful sound of Rebecca’s laughter filled the empty aching place inside Adam. No more leaving. No more waiting. Not one more thing would come between them.

Early that evening, while Adam waited for his meeting time with Rebecca, he sat in the cozy parlor with his family and his faithful old beagle, Scout. The dog lounged on Adam’s lap, both of them happy to be reunited.

At fifteen years old, his sister Cora had become a blonde-haired, green-eyed beauty who had outgrown her dolls but not her blabby mouth. In the few minutes he’d been sitting in the parlor, she’d told him everything happening in their village and at school where she spent the better part of her days. He knew who had married, who had died, and who bought what herbs or salves in the greenhouse for their ailments. She filled him in on the trouble their little brothers had gotten into last week, and on and on. Her joy at having him home again was apparent as she blathered on about everything he’d missed in the last seven months.

Adam was enjoying the little blabbermouth and couldn’t help teasing her a bit. “Gads, Cora, your yammering is about to make my ears bleed.” He stuck a finger in his ear then inspected it as if searching for blood.

With a laugh, Cora dove across the settee and pinched his arm. “You better not have come home just to torment me, Adam. I get enough of that from these two,” she said, glancing at her younger brothers who were sprawled on the carpet playing marbles.

“You deserve it,” said nine-year-old Jeremiah with a dismissive shrug. Levi, who was two years younger, nodded his head.

Adam grinned at the skinny, messy-haired boys. Faith must have fits trying to tame those wild mops of hair for school and church. He remembered her applying the brush to his own unruly mass of hair many a time before he convinced her he was too old for her fussing.

“See how it is here?” Cora said to Adam. “I was counting on you to defend me from these two pups.”

“I’m not a pup!” Levi said, whacking Cora with a lacy settee pillow.

Adam exchanged a grin with Duke, his father, and was sorry he’d been away so much of the past several years. He missed his family. He missed sitting in their comfortable parlor in the evenings, sharing stories, and playing board games with his family. He missed the man-to-man talks he had with Duke. He missed Faith and her sisterly-motherly love. She and Adam had been through so much together, had come so far from those awful days of living behind the brothel their mother had owned. Their family had been broken and pieced back together, but like a broken bone that healed, they had become stronger from the trauma.

“We’re eager to have you back at the mill,” his father said, propping his stocking-clad feet on a low table. Duke’s wide shoulders nearly spanned the width of the wingback chair. He was a bear of a man, fit and strong and smart. Dark-haired and brown-eyed, he was handsome and had an admirable sense of humor. He was a perfect husband to Adam’s sister, Faith, and loving father to their children. To Adam, Duke was more than a father; he was a friend—and everything Adam aspired to become.

“That’s all he’s been talking about for the last month,” Faith said to Adam, a smile gracing her pretty face. The purple shade of her dress favored her, as did marriage and motherhood. Legs crossed, foot bobbing and peeking from beneath her pleated skirt, she sat in her padded rocking chair crocheting what looked to be a sweater, happily participating in their conversation. He marveled at her ability to manage the greenhouse and their busy household without falling over from exhaustion.

“I’m looking forward to tomorrow,” Adam admitted to his father. “I’ve missed working the mill and watching you and your brothers antagonize each other all day,”

Duke chuckled. “That hasn’t changed any. It will be good to have you back so you can share the abuse.”

The abuse Duke referred to was good-natured ribbing that was batted back and forth between the Grayson brothers and the mill crew. Their days at the mill were filled with hard work and lots of heckling that helped to lighten the load.

“Thought we might go hunting this weekend,” his father said.

Adam loved hunting with his dad and uncles. “That will make Scout happy,” Adam said, ruffling the dog’s ears. “We need Uncle Boyd to come along and bring Sailor.”

His father’s burst of laughter elicited Adam’s in return. “That dog is worthless in a hunt.”

“I know, but having Boyd around is priceless. Plus Sailor is good company for Scout. This old fella isn’t going to run down anything, are you, buddy?” he asked, scratching the dog’s head again as his father’s laughter subsided. Some of Adam’s best memories were those he spent with his father and uncles on a hunt.

“I wish I could invite all your uncles,” his father said, “but we’ve got a big order at the mill right now. With two of us gone the others need to be there. Besides, I’m surprised you will let me take you away from Rebecca already.”

Adam laughed. “It’s a sacrifice, but I suspect she might be glad to be rid of me for a while by then.”

His father’s laughter told Adam he hadn’t lost his touch for bantering and heckling and having some good-natured fun with his dad.

Faith tilted her head and studied Adam. “It’s hard to believe you’ll soon be married. I can well imagine how happy you are to be home with Rebecca.”

Words couldn’t describe what he felt, but he nodded to acknowledge his joy. “I’m glad to be here with all of you, too—and even with Miss Blabby Mouth and her tormentors,” he said, tweaking Cora’s ribs.

She squealed and slapped his hand away, but they were both enjoying their reunion. The sound of his family’s laughter and their conversation flowed over him, soothing the raw places in his lonely heart. He was home. He was finally going to live his dream.

o0o

Stroking her mare’s neck, Rebecca waited beneath the long hanging limbs of the willow tree that she and Adam had claimed as their special place many years earlier. She had dreamed about this moment for months, and now that Adam was finally home and she had touched him, heard the rich, soothing sound of his voice, she literally ached to be with him.

The sound of his boots crunching along the loamy, rocky shore told her he was about to round the bend of Canadaway Creek. As he came into view, Rebecca drank in the sight of him, grown tall in manhood, his stride long and sure, brown hair fluttering in the evening breeze and tangling in his collar. Hands jammed deep in his jacket pockets, Adam followed his dog, Scout. The dog scampered along the creek’s edge, sniffing the rocky ground as he and his master made their way toward the willow tree.

Rebecca knew the instant Scout spotted her. The beagle lifted his head and released a happy howl as he raced toward her.

When Adam spied her, he gave her that slow
you’re-all-I’ve-been-able-to-think-about
smile that never failed to thrill her. Each time they met was like a first time, new and exciting and packed with emotion.

Usually it was Adam who arrived first, who waited for her, but today Rebecca wanted to welcome him back to their wonderful willow world. That’s what they called their private little nest beneath the fat willow tree squatted on the bank of the burbling creek. The long drooping branches of the willow created a wall of leafy green that encircled them and had provided privacy for years while they shared their thoughts and dreams and even their heartaches.

Scout knew this place well, and he barreled inside with a happy yip.

Laughing, Rebecca rubbed his knobby head and tried to avoid his wildly swinging tail. Star and Scout had friended each other long ago and now greeted each other nose-to-nose.

Adam parted the branches and slipped into the sacred space that had nourished their love.

Rebecca moved into his arms and released a long, satisfied sigh.

“I never knew four hours could be so long,” he said.

With her cheek against his warm chest, Rebecca nodded. “Or that twenty minutes could be so short.”

“Is that all you have tonight?” he asked.

Again, she nodded. “I need to get back before Daddy comes home.”

“I understand,” Adam said.

She knew he did. They had built and nourished their love throughout a decade with stolen moments. Twenty minutes here, ten minutes there, sometimes even a minute to exchange a hug and the unspoken knowledge that they cared about and missed each other, was a treat. They accepted that from the beginning. At thirteen, they both understood they were too young to fully embrace their powerful love, but they tended it with care knowing one day they would be old enough to claim it, and each other.

“Remember the day Melissa Archer caught us kissing here?” Rebecca asked, her voice quiet, her face still resting against Adam’s muscled chest.

The sound of his chuckle rumbled beneath her ear. “All I remember is
you
. Your lips were so soft and your eyes looked like big brown chestnuts up close.”

She smiled and eased back in his arms. “We have so many wonderful memories, Adam, and we haven’t even married yet or begun our family. Can you imagine what we will be able to share when we’re as old as Grandma Grayson or Agatha Brown?”

“We’ll put them all in a book and share them with our great grandchildren.”

“Not all of them. I plan to create some memories we can’t share with anyone.” Smiling, she tugged his hand and sat on the small wool blanket she’d spread beneath the tree.

“Count on it,” he said. He sat beside her and pulled her into his arms. “I have so many plans for us, my love, so many places I want to show you.”

His endearment flowed over her, warmed her, thrilled her. “Where will you take me first?” she asked, eager to hear his thoughts, loving the sound of his voice and the assurance that he was really home, that his strong arms would carry her to their wedding day and into their future.

“Crane Landing,” he said. “You’ll love it there. The ships are... I can’t explain how magnificent they are or what it’s like to launch a vessel that size. It’s like a moment when time seems to stop, when everything holds its breath while the sails swell with wind and carry her out to sea.”

“Reminds me of watching a foal being born, waiting for it to breathe, to recognize its mother, to find its legs.”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s a moment like that,” he said. “Something beautiful is being born in that moment.”

“It’ll be like that when we have children,” she said.

“The birth of our children will be worlds beyond that, darling.”

A rush of excitement brought her upright and she gazed into his eyes. “I’m eager to have children, but I hope we’ll have a few months to ourselves first.”

“It’s probably safe to say we will have at least nine months.”

She laughed and settled back in his arms. “Tell me more about Crane Landing. Will we take a holiday there after our nuptials?”

“I’d like that, but only if it’s your desire.”

“I want to see the place you’ve written so much about in your letters.”

His arms tightened around her in a warm hug. “There’s so much to show you. At floodtide I’ll take you upriver in a birch bark canoe to my favorite fishing hole. We’ll store our canoe at Petticoat Landing, which is a raft landing for the wood cutters during the spring freshet. From there, we will take an overgrown trail that threads seven miles back into the hollow where meadow-rue and pink lady’s-slipper orchids grow tall and fragrant and the wild sarsaparilla carpets the forest floor. We can make camp right next to the creek and listen to the water tumble over the stream bed as we make love. And then we’ll fall asleep in each other’s arms hearing the sounds of the whippoorwills and night hawks, and the howls of a lone timber wolf in the far distance.”

“Oh, Adam...” Rebecca turned to see his face. “It sounds so beautiful and romantic.”

“It is, Rebecca, but not so romantic when I’m alone or with Leo,” he said, releasing a light laugh.

“I should hope not,” she said, laughing with him. “Although I’m sure Leo is a much better fisherman than I.”

“Even an inexperienced fisherman would catch a slew there. It’s the best fishing hole I’ve found,” Adam continued. “As the morning fog lifts off the water we fish brook trout with minnows and soft-shelled crabs. I’ve caught so many trout there in the first hour after dawn that it puts a bend in my bamboo rod.”

“This is beginning to sound like one of those tall tales my Grandpa Tucker used to tell. Are you jesting?”

“No. It’s all true.” He paused, and a sheepish expression crossed his face. “Am I being boorish?”

“No,” she said, honestly. “I love hearing your voice and learning about your world and the wondrous things you’ve seen and experienced in your travels.”

“I’ll share everything with you, Rebecca. When we go to Crane Landing, we’ll fish trout for our supper and make love beneath the stars. I want to take you to this place. I want you to see the clear, cold waters of the high mountain streams that I fish. I want you to experience the cool mists that the ocean continually sweeps inland. Once you hear the wild song of the mighty Crane River as it moves over the cobbled bottom and cuts its way to the ocean, you’ll never forget it. And the endless forests with their mix of pitch pine, gray birch, red maple and many other species creates a wonderful home for the beautiful creatures you love. You must see it, Rebecca.”