Leave it for the Rain

By

Wendy Lindstrom

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

EBook copyright 2014 Wendy Lindstrom

EBook published by Rustic Studio Publishing 2014

Cover design by Kim Killion of Hot Damn! Designs

EBook design by A Thirsty Mind Book Design

All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Reader Letter

Books by Wendy Lindstrom

About the Author

Chapter One

After four years at university and two years apprenticing with his Grayson relatives on the southern coast of Maine, Adam Grayson was beyond ready to go home.

Stepping onto the long wooden pier at Crane Landing, Adam drank in the sheer magnificence of the square-rigged six-masted ship anchored amid debris flushed into the dockyard by last night’s storm. This would be his last glimpse of the sleek ship and of the beautiful but ever-changing harbor he’d come to love. In the morning, he would head home—to New York... to Fredonia... to Rebecca and the life they had waited so long to embrace. He would bring Rebecca here someday to see a ship launch. Watching the massive sails unfurl as the schooners and ships slipped out into the vast, sparkling ocean just beyond the bay would thrill her. There were so many things he wanted to show his fiancée, so many places he longed to take Rebecca.

“We have quite a snarl down there,” Adam said to his coworker and best friend, Leo Sullivan, who stood beside him on the dock.

Leo gestured with his whisker-shadowed chin toward the water below. “I might spare two men from my crew for an hour or so, but that’s all I can afford. We need to get that girl repaired and at full sail by Saturday.”

Floating logs waiting to be sawed into keel beams, hull ribs, and deck planks for their growing fleet of merchant vessels littered the inlet. The recent storm and resulting ocean surge had flooded the bay and floated several logs over into the dockyard, a small cove of water reserved for ship launch and repair, creating a dangerous tangle that needed to be cleaned out to prevent possible damage to the Fairplay.

“My crew and I will get it cleared out You take care of Fairplay,” Adam said, nodding toward the ship in repair.

Anchored in the bay, tethered to the pier by thick ropes and a plank bridge, the regal ship sat high in the water, her expansive sails drawn and lashed tight to the masts to keep her stationary for repairs. Swing stage scaffolding hung off her starboard bow as two men worked on the damaged wooden hull. The sight both awed and saddened Adam. Vessels of live oak and white pine were fast becoming extinct. Instead of wood and wind, ships were now being made of steel and powered by steam.

“All right then. I’ll meet you at The Crowe’s Nest tonight,” Leo said, referring to the tavern on Main Street where he and Adam and their crews spent a good amount of time. He crossed the long plank-and-rope bridge with the agility of a sailor.

The staccato banging of hammers and shouts from the ship’s crew were loud as Adam appraised the four thousand ton ship. The crew aboard the Fairplay created a hive of activity and noise. Seagulls screeched and swooped around the rigging, gliding through air tinged with the scent of fish and ocean grass.

“Enough loafing about you lazy hoar hounds,” Leo shouted to the crew as he leapt onto the pine deck of the ship.

From the pier, Adam heard laughter and ribald shouts fill the air. Leo was at home here. He would master the shipbuilding trade as Adam had mastered the intricacies of running a busy, profitable sawmill.

During the playful scuffle on Fairplay’s sun-washed deck, the scaffolding dropped sharply as one of its stirrups slipped free of the supporting lines. One man clung to the dangling scaffold, shouting for help and struggling to climb to safety. Another man fell into the heaving snarl of timber and debris trapped between the pier and the Fairplay. His head snapped back and Adam knew instantly the man was injured.

Whistling to the crew, Adam gestured to the man hanging from the scaffolding and then to the water below. As he rapidly unlaced his boots, he watched the unconscious man sink into the water between the timbers—and heard the clock ticking away the last seconds of the man’s life.

One boot off!

The crew, alerted to the accident and the potential demise of their friends, snapped into action, dropping manropes and a rope ladder from the starboard bow into the water below.

Two boots off!

As Adam kicked aside his boots, two crew members slipped over the side of the Fairplay and slid down one of the three remaining hawsers holding the dangling scaffold. Leo rapidly descended a manrope as other crew members began to lower a small skiff, but none of them would reach the man in the water soon enough.

Scanning the timber-littered bay, Adam sought a safe point of entry, knowing there wasn’t one. With a hard leap from the pier, he dropped into the bay feet first, praying nothing was hiding beneath the surface that would break his legs or worse.

The frigid, murky water swallowed him.

The roar of the ocean filled his ears. His chest compressed as the cold water gripped him and forced out some of his precious stock of oxygen.

Fanning his arms, he clamped down the urge to gasp at the cold jolt to his body. He surveyed the area around him, seeing little in the storm-churned water.

Where are you?

With a hard sweep of his arms, he propelled himself in the direction of the ship, to where the man had slipped beneath those long, deadly timbers.

Flashes of broken planks and ocean grass caught his eye, and he maneuvered around them.

The man was wearing boots. He may as well have sandbags strapped to his feet.

Adam looked deeper, swam closer to the ship’s hull, felt his lungs bursting... saw nothing.

He surfaced with a gasp, gulped a lungful of air, and dove deep, stroking hard, looking harder. Around and down... around and down... there!

Limp, lifeless, weighted by his boots, the man drifted slowly toward the ocean floor.

Adam’s lungs cramped, commanding him to surface and suck in a lungful of life-sustaining air.

But he dove deeper.

Down he went, pushing hard, regretting that he hadn’t shucked his clothes. With each stroke his shirt and dungarees created a drag, slowing him down, forcing him to work harder.

And all he could hear was the clock ticking away the man’s life. Hurry... hurry... hurry...

Lungs on fire, arms fatigued, Adam snagged the young man’s shirt collar and pulled him toward the surface that was too far away.

For every upward tug on the man’s collar, it forced Adam’s cold, exhausted body in the opposite direction. Stroke after hard stroke seemed to bring little progress.

Adam’s chest cramped.

He released some air, trying to ease the fiery pressure in his chest and the edge of fear cutting into him. He lost his sense of direction in the murky water. Was he heading toward the surface or was he pulling the man deeper? Is that why his chest felt as if it would burst? Was the pressure building because he was heading down instead of up?

He paused, indecisive, and then he panicked.

The man floated past him, his face surprisingly youthful and pale as death—and familiar. Adam’s face would look like this too. Leo would fish him from the water. He would take the young man, barely out of boyhood, home to his parents... and Adam home to Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Adam clamped his fingers over the boy’s shirt collar and tugged. After sacrificing so many years to become a Grayson man, he would not let her down. He would not miss his chance to fulfill the dream they had shared since their teens.

And he would return this young man, dead or alive, to his parents.

He thrust hard with both arms. Bubbles of air burst from between his clenched teeth, but he couldn’t hold his breath another second.

Tick... tick... tick... Time slipped away.

They weren’t going to make it...

The ocean’s song thrummed in his ears, beckoning him, rocking him like a babe... It’s all right... it’s all right... it’s all right...

Executing another hard thrust with his arm and legs forced the rest of the air from his lungs. Adam glanced in apology at the boy he couldn’t save—and he heard the heartbroken sobs of that man’s family... of his own family—of Rebecca.

With his remaining strength he shoved the boy toward the surface, forcing himself deeper, hoping the crew would be able to find both of their bodies.

Making one final attempt to surface, Adam thrust his arms down to push his body upward.

His head slammed into something hard. Water filled his mouth, choking him. He punched his fist upward between two soaked timbers. Raising his other fist, he shoved the massive pine logs away from each other, creating a gap.

He burst above the surface coughing and belching and vomiting water and air. Clamping his lips to suppress his coughs, he immediately ducked beneath the surface and reached for the boy, who was drifting away. Adam hooked his stocking clad toes in the young man’s shirt and dragged him close.

The opening in the logs was disappearing, forcing Adam to wedge them apart again. The door between life and death was barely open and he had to fight to stay on the living side.

The logs could save them—or crush them, but they were Adam’s only option.

Coughing and gagging, Adam gripped the young fella beneath the armpits and tried to lift him onto the large pine log. He succeeded only in shoving himself under water.

When he surfaced, he heard shouts to hold on, but they seemed so far away—and he trembled from cold and fatigue.

Exhausted, Adam struggled to keep the boy’s head above water while he dragged himself onto a long, bobbing log.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Leo and two others in a small skiff pushing aside logs, doing their best to navigate through the mess, but he couldn’t wait for them. He had to get the boy out of the frigid water—and get him breathing!

Clenching his teeth, growling deep in his throat, Adam forced his trembling arms to haul the inert young man upward.

He could only manage to drape the boy’s torso across the log, face-down over the wet bark. But that was enough to keep the lad’s head above water.

With that, Adam pounded the young man on the back until the boy vomited.

o0o

An hour later, Adam scrubbed the chill from his bones in a hot bath. Then he dressed as quickly as his aching body would allow.

Although Micah Crane had been breathing when Leo and the others rowed Adam and the young man ashore, he’d been unresponsive and bleeding from a gash beneath his chin. No one knew if Micah would survive. Dockhands had carted the boy home on a lumber wagon. Other workers went in search of Doc Samuel, who had been tending the residents and workers of Crane Landing for twenty years.

Leo wanted Adam to see Doc Samuel, too, but Adam had waved him off.

Other than a smattering of abrasions on his hands and knuckles and a bump on top of his head, Adam suffered no injuries that a hot bath and cool ale couldn’t remedy.

The bath did succeed in ridding him of chills and stopping the chattering of his teeth, but Adam was still deeply shaken. He craved a stout tankard of yeasty ale to settle his nerves, but he needed to check on the Crane boy first.

With his damp hair combed back, Adam stepped out of the private bathing chambers attached to the bunkhouse at the mill where he’d lived the past two years. Twenty cots and wooden footlockers filled the long corridor. Four windows on either side let in negligible light, too much cold air in the winter months and not enough fresh air in the summer months, but that dingy room had fostered many great friendships during Adam’s stay.

His fellow bunkmates began filing in after another long day of sawing and moving timber.

To a man, his bunkmates surrounded Adam, applauding his quick thinking and asking after his health. Their admiration and concern was real, but it made Adam grossly uncomfortable. He’d done nothing more than any of the men around him would have done. To be lauded a hero for a simple act of decency seemed... sad. Was helping others not a natural instinct or the decent and honorable thing to do?

After asking about the other man on the scaffolding and learning he had been pulled to safety, Adam excused himself from the gathering. He lifted a light jacket off a wall hook beside his cot, and slipped away from his friends who were still talking about the accident. Outside, he stuffed his arms into the sleeves and headed into town at a brisk pace.

Crane Landing had grown up around Crane’s shipbuilding works. When Jack Crane navigated his ship into the deep bay in 1763, he had found the perfect place to build ships and merchant vessels. To supply the Cranes with timber for their ships, Benjamin Grayson located his lumber mill adjacent to the shipyard. Other business quickly sprawled outward from the massive shipyard, creating a string of shops and a full mile of wharves along the harbor. A blacksmith and a sailmaker both set up shop close to the shipyard. A large livery provided strong, healthy horses for moving and hauling timber between the sawmill and shipyard. Soon after a general mercantile opened, followed by a woodworker who plied their trades alongside the harbor. As the number of workers increased at the shipyard and the sawmill other businesses flourished, and Bay Street was created.

The business Adam frequented most often was the Crowe’s Nest. The tavern had become a second home for him and many other men. At the end of a long, hard day of work, he and his friends would gather at the tavern to wash down the dust and slake their thirst while talking about the business of building ships. Nearby the Beacon Inn provided respite for the weary travelers. Doc Samuel’s residence was a block over near the church and school.

Adam hoped that smart doctor could keep Micah Crane alive.

The bustling little town reminded Adam of Fredonia... and Rebecca... and all he could have lost in those final seconds beneath the cold Atlantic water.

The ocean still called to him, swirled around him, pulled his mind back to those final seconds when his lungs burned and his failure seemed assured. He tried to shake the dark, frantic thoughts as he entered the Crowe’s Nest. Boisterous piano music filled the smoky tavern and assaulted his ears. The world of the living might be noisy but it was a welcome symphony for Adam.

He’d barely cleared the door when Leo hooked his arm around Adam’s shoulders. “It’s about time you got here.”

“I’m not staying,” Adam said. “I just stopped in to let you know I’ll come by later.”

Strong as a bull, Leo hauled him to the oak bar where men waited three deep for their nightly sustenance. “I know where you’re headed,” Leo said, “because I’m going to check on Micah, too. But we need to salve our nerves before we meet with Elias Crane.” Leo nodded for the rotund barkeep to bring them ale.

“Thanks,” Adam said, turning to face his longtime friend, “but it’ll take forever to get served tonight. I can’t wait. I’ve got to find out if Micah is all right.”

“No waiting for you, young man!” Hiram’s voice boomed from the other side of the bar. “You and Mr. Leo earned these ales.” He thunked two heavy mugs onto the bar. “On the house, my brave friends.”

Adam opened his mouth to argue his hero status, but Leo jabbed an elbow into his ribs. “Just thank the man and drink the ale, Adam.”

Seeing that any debate was futile, Adam raised his mug to the barkeep and to the men looking on with admiration glowing in their eyes. “Thank you. I’m going to miss seeing your ugly faces every night.”

Their laughter rolled through the tavern like a wave, washing away the awkwardness and leaving behind the easy friendship Adam had known with most of the men gathered around them.

He and Leo moved to a small table away from the bar. They took their usual seats near a large wood stove where they had spent many hours together, talking and warming their bones from early fall through the last of the spring freshets. The big potbelly stove seemed to draw them like a mother’s arms, even when she sat cold and silent as she was now, her warmth unnecessary on this May evening.

For a minute Adam said nothing. He simply let his gaze take in the tavern that had become a second home to him in the absence of everything he’d left behind in Fredonia. His friends met nightly in this two-story building of worn pine floors and high tin plated ceilings. They shared stories and secrets and sometimes just solitude. They played cards and billiards at the farthest end of the large room, each game approached with the same gusto the men gave to their work in the sawmill and to building ships.

Around him, men lounged at low wooden tables, leaning their chairs back on two legs until Hiram slapped them across the head with his bar towel. Tonight it was Walter who got smacked.

“You break my chair, you buy it, mister,” Hiram warned.

Adam exchanged a grin with Leo. “How many times have we heard him say that?”

“At least ten times a night every night I’ve been here.” Leo planted his elbow on the table and leaned in to be heard over the piano. “You sure you’re all right?”

That Adam’s jangled nerves were so apparent was disturbing, but something had happened in those final minutes underwater that he couldn’t seem to shake. Rather than try to slough it off, he told Leo the truth. “I didn’t think I was going to make it.” He told Leo about his struggle, about his fear of failing the boy, about the temptation of letting the ocean rock him into death. Adam shook his head. “I thought I wouldn’t save the boy... that I’d break Rebecca’s heart.”

Leo gripped Adam’s forearm. “Well, you did save him and you’ll be going home to Rebecca tomorrow just like you promised you would. And for the record, Adam, I was about to jump in after you, and would have if I hadn’t spotted your fist punching up between the timber. You wouldn’t have been alone for long because I’d have fought a shark or a hurricane to find you.”

Adam didn’t doubt Leo for a second “That explains why your boots were tumbling around the bottom of the skiff. It seemed odd at the time, but my brain was filled with seaweed and I couldn’t think clearly until after I’d warmed up and drained the ocean out of my ears.”

Leo grinned and sat back in his chair. “I was about to shuck my dungarees and jump in when I saw you surface.” He shook his head. “Hard to believe you’re going home tomorrow. Sure won’t be the same without you here.”

Adam nodded. “I’ll miss this place, and even your nightly harassment.”

Leo tugged off his hat. His hair—three inches below his collar and as dark and straight as the native Penobscots that worked for the mill as river drivers—swung freely across his shoulders. He slanted a wry grin at Adam. “You sure want to give all this up for a woman?”

“I would give up everything for Rebecca, and you know it.”

Leo sobered, his dark eyes filled with understanding. “She’s worth it,” he said, “but I’ll miss having you around every day.”

Adam would miss Leo’s daily heckling and friendship. He and Leo had grown up together in Fredonia. Both of them had found their way out of hard times into loving families, and later into an apprenticeship at Crane and Grayson that any man would envy. If not for Leo’s friendship, Adam’s time away from Rebecca would have been unbearable.

He emptied his mug. “We should go.”

“Agreed,” Leo said. “Elias Crane is expecting us at seven o’clock.”

Adam met his eyes. “He’s expecting us?”

“Yes sir. While you were draining your ears, Elias sent a man to request our presence at their home this evening.”

Adam’s stomach rolled. “Is Micah... did the kid... ?” He couldn’t even say the word.

Leo got to his feet. “His man didn’t know, but I sure can’t wait any longer to find out.”

o0o

Adam and Leo followed the right fork of the river to Elias Crane’s mansion. The Crane River began high in the mountains, cut its way across the land, and split into two smaller rivers—the Doe and the Crane—before emptying into the bay and flowing out into the Atlantic Ocean. The twin rivers brought goods and trade and power, and carried the huge timbers that were sawed at the Grayson mill and used in the merchant vessels built by Crane.

Elias, his twin brother Ezra, and their elder brother Dawson were the surviving sons of George Crane. The twins had mansions on the bucolic shore of Crane Landing where the river met the bay. Dawson lived in a modest home a short walk upriver where he, his dog Tuck and a cat named Sir John kept each other company.

At age fifty-five Dawson still hadn’t married or sired children and was considered eccentric by some of the townsfolk. Ezra had given their father George Crane granddaughters, but it was Elias who had provided the one and only grandson—Micah George Crane—to carry on the Crane name. That son had nearly died—may have died—today.

Adam’s gut knotted as he and Leo followed the groomed driveway lit by ornate gas lanterns mounted on decorative wrought iron posts. A column of tall maple trees formed a canopy above their heads and shaded a board and batten carriage house to the right of the drive. The sprawling mansion, accented by large round-top windows and a deep veranda supported by tall columns, rose up before them like a majestic ship approaching the harbor.

Together Leo and Adam stepped into Crane’s plush foyer of mahogany paneled walls and thick velvet draperies. They were immediately greeted by Elias Crane himself. The stately sandy-haired man steered them directly to his library of floor-to-ceiling book shelves and heavy leather furniture positioned around a massive stone fireplace. As Elias reached for a crystal decanter, Adam couldn’t help wondering if the man would be offering a beverage in celebration... or bereavement.

Wondering, worrying, Adam’s gut churned. Exhausted from a long day of work and his struggle beneath the frigid Atlantic waters, his need for resolution killed his sense of etiquette. He couldn’t wait for a drink. He couldn’t wait another painful second. “Your son, sir... is he... did he survive?”

Tanned and lightly freckled from his life of sailing and building ships, Elias arched an eyebrow, creasing his forehead. “Thanks to you, Adam, my son is in his bed resting and recovering. He needed a few sutures to close the gash beneath his chin, but a hot bath and a dose of laudanum from Doc Samuel have eased his complaints.”

Adam’s relief was so great, everything after that moment took on a dreamlike feel, as if he were still submersed in the cold Atlantic water, floating and wrapped in the sound of the ocean.

They celebrated with Crane’s best whiskey served in Waterford crystal glasses. Mrs. Crane, elegantly dressed in rose satin, appeared shaky and tearful as she entered the library to thank Adam and Leo for saving their son. Together the Cranes bestowed gifts of gratitude. To Leo, Elias Crane awarded the new title of Quality and Safety Foreman along with a significant increase in Leo’s wage. He scheduled a meeting with Leo to discuss improving safety for all workers at Crane and Grayson.

To Adam, Elias Crane said, “I know you’re a partner with your dad and uncles at their mill in Fredonia, and I wouldn’t want to swindle them out of an industrious partner, but I need to make it clear that you could have a bright future here, Adam. We need men of your caliber to run our operations. You could easily step into a management position on the mill side of our business. With another year or two of apprenticing on the shipping side, you could attain a similar position in that part of our business. I suspect you’ll want to return to Fredonia, but should you decide to stay on at Crane Landing you and your bride could begin your married life in the house up the road. Cecily’s Cottage is yours, Adam. It’s the only way I know how to thank you for saving my son.”

Elias Crane’s words and generosity overwhelmed Adam. He’d simply pulled the man’s son out of the bay. “Your gratitude is more than enough,” Adam said, grossly uncomfortable. In Adam’s mind, Elias Crane was of Grayson caliber—a man of deep integrity and high moral fiber. To be courted by such a man was an immense honor that Adam didn’t take lightly. But his heart was in Fredonia with Rebecca and his Grayson family. “I appreciate your consideration, but I must decline on all fronts. Please, consider Micah’s retrieval nothing more than the decent act it was.”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Elias said. “Without your help our son would be dead.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Crane said, her voice wobbling with emotion. “You have no idea what you gave us today, but we know.” She handed him an intricately carved wooden box. “We thought you would choose to return to Fredonia and therefore have no need of a house here, but we wanted to offer you that choice. Since you won’t be staying, we want you to have this in lieu of the house. She pushed the box into Adam’s hands. “This was made for a princess who possessed amazing courage,” she said. “To thank you for risking your life to save our son’s life, we feel it fitting to recognize your courage with this symbolic gift. It’s one of our family heirlooms and we are honored to pass it on to you.”

Dumbfounded, Adam opened the box and stared at the jewel-bedecked mirror inside. Elias Crane explained what Adam held in his shaking hands. It was a relic of great worth and rich history. The frame was crafted from rare tiger striped wood that came from an ancient forest in the Cayman Islands. Embedded into the wood were gems of immense value. Pure molten silver had been poured into a ribbon shaped channel around the mirror, connecting the stones to amplify their power, Elias told him. On the back of the mirror, embossed in pure silver and set in the wooden back, was a royal crest with a blue sapphire set in the crest.

“That is the royal crest of Princess Cecily who once owned the mirror—the princess who was forced to leave her homeland and come to America with Captain Gabriel Crane,” Elias said.

The sparkling six-rayed star sapphire winked in the lantern light as if beckoning Adam to listen to its story. Uncomfortable with whatever it was he’d felt emanating from the sapphire, Adam placed it back in the box. The small oval mirror reflected his entranced gaze back at him. Gently but firmly, he pressed the ornate box into Mrs. Crane’s delicate hands. “I’m deeply honored by your generosity, but I cannot accept payment for a simple act of decency that any man could have performed.”

The Crane’s exchanged a knowing look as if they had expected Adam’s refusal, but Leo looked on with interest.

“Well, it wasn’t just any man, Adam.” Elias nudged the box back into Adam’s hand. “You are the man who saved my son. You are the man who nearly sacrificed your own future to give my son a future. Thanks to you my boy will celebrate his eighteenth birthday this fall. You’ll understand this when you have your own children, Adam. Nothing in life—not one thing—means more to a parent than his child. If you can’t accept this heirloom as a symbol of our gratitude and as a testament to your courage, then please accept it as a wedding gift for you and your future bride.”

The gift was too much and unnecessary and almost offensive to Adam’s sense of integrity. To be rewarded for an act of common decency seemed... wrong. But he saw their desperate need to express their gratitude, to try in some way to thank him for giving them back the only thing that mattered to them—their son.

With a quiet sigh of acceptance, Adam gave a small nod. “Rebecca and I will treasure this and share the history of the heirloom with our children.”

Mrs. Crane gave him a relieved smile. “Perhaps you could bring your bride to Crane Landing so we can tell you both the story of the mirror—and of Princess Cecily and Gabriel Crane. It is a beautiful story we would love to share with you two.”

“Perhaps we’ll visit after our wedding,” Adam said, hoping they would. He wanted to bring Rebecca to Crane Landing to see the ocean and the majestic ships that sailed from its shores. But for today, the only thing he wanted was to get home and pull her into his lonely aching arms.

Chapter Two

Barefoot, Rebecca Grayson pirouetted across the wood floor of her bedroom, dreaming of dancing in Adam’s arms on their wedding day little more than a month away.

After months and years of sporadic, too-short visits home, Adam would finally be back to stay—to marry her and begin living the life they had dreamt about for so long.

She folded his letter—the last one he’d sent to her—and placed it inside a wooden chest filled with his correspondence and her journals. Adam had created the cedar chest for her six years earlier, before he’d left for university. Neither of them could have anticipated that the trunk would contain six years’ worth of letters filled with heartache and longing before he would return home and make her his wife.

But he was truly coming home, and she would be meeting him at their willow tree tomorrow evening. She ached to feel his strong arms around her, to press her face to his neck and inhale the pine and cedar scent of him, to experience the wonderful feel of his lips upon hers.

Sighing, she swept a brush through her long, thick hair, daydreaming about their love. With efficient skill, she twisted the ebony waves into a chignon and pinned it in place. Above it, she added a tortoise shell hair comb that Adam had given to her last year on her twenty-third birthday. Tomorrow, when Adam returned, she would leave her hair down, the way he liked it best.

Their local veterinarian, Calvin Uldridge—with whom she’d been apprenticing the last several years—would be here soon. Although he’d been opposed to teaching a woman his trade, he acquiesced when Rebecca demonstrated her special skill with horses—a skill she’d acquired from her mother, Evelyn Tucker Grayson. Her mother had grown up working in her father’s livery and had eventually inherited it.

Rebecca drew on her worn riding habit and then floated downstairs on a cloud of happiness. One more day and she and Adam would finally... finally be together.

Her father, along with Will, the eldest of her brothers, had already left for the sawmill. Her mother, dressed in a simple green frock and brown and beige checkered apron, was putting eggs, biscuits, and fresh milk on the table for Hannah, Tyler, and Sarah, Rebecca’s younger siblings, who would be off to school shortly. Little Emma was still sleeping, but she would be up before long, dogging Rebecca’s and her mother’s heels and asking a hundred questions as they worked in the livery.

In that moment, Rebecca suddenly glimpsed her life years from now. She would have her own family with Adam. She would cook them breakfast in her own kitchen and would eventually send her babies off to school and university or marriage.

“Good morning,” her mother said, her eyes twinkling at Rebecca as she placed the glasses on the table “Someone is all smiles this morning.”

Rebecca swept her mother into her arms for a hug and a twirl around the kitchen. “Adam’s coming home tomorrow, Mama!”

Her mother’s laughter filled the room, and they ended their impromptu dance with an exuberant hug. “I’m happy for you, sweetheart. You’ve been waiting a long time.”

Dark-haired, fair-skinned with eyes as green as emeralds, her mother was a beautiful woman who possessed a youthful energy that Rebecca hoped she never lost.

“I’ve been waiting too long,” Rebecca said, her heart begging release from the emptiness and yearning that haunted her days. “I’m fast becoming an old maid.” Rebecca scrunched up her face and hunched her back, cackling like a madwoman at her younger siblings.

They giggled and looked at each other as if she was getting dotty.

“What are you laughing at?” Rebecca asked her ten-year-old sister, Hannah, a little brown-eyed beauty. “It won’t be long before you’re eager to see your own beau.”

“Ewww,” Hannah said. “Boys are pests.”

“They can be,” Rebecca agreed, and laughed at Tyler’s offended frown.

“We’re only pests ‘cause you girls won’t leave us be,” Ty said.

He was extremely bright and worldly for an eight-year-old, something Rebecca attributed to his spending too much time with his older brothers. Will and Joshua frequently forgot that Ty was years younger than the two of them and that their conversations were inappropriate for a boy his age.

Rebecca smiled at the children she was helping to raise. “I’m going to miss you little sass-buckets when I marry Adam and move to my own house.”

“I’m not a sass-bucket!” Sarah said, spilling her scrambled eggs off her fork.

“I was jesting, sweetie.” Rebecca planted a kiss on the top of Sarah’s head of brown silky curls. “You’re sweet as Mama’s apple pie, and I’m hoping you and Hannah will help me take care of my babies when I have them.”

“I take care of Emma already, don’t I?” Sarah asked, shifting her green gaze in search of their mother’s confirmation. At six, all pigtails and innocence, Sarah was already a charmer.

“You certainly do.” Their mother picked up Tyler’s empty plate. “I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

“I help, too,” Ty grumbled.

Their mother pushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “Of course you do. With your father and brothers at the mill so often, you’re my man around here. ”

His cheeks flamed and he shot out of his chair, heading toward the door.

She caught his shoulder and turned him toward the stairs. “Please tell Joshua if he isn’t up and dressed in five minutes I’ll be in to wake him up.”

Rebecca smiled at the warning note in her mother’s voice. She was a sweet and loving mama to all of them, but at one time or another they had all learned the danger of making her angry.

“I won’t be eating this morning,” Rebecca said. “I have to check on Star before Mr. Uldridge gets here.”

“Take a biscuit with you,” her mother suggested. “Calvin will wait, especially if you take a biscuit for him, too.”

So Rebecca headed to the livery with two biscuits and a heart filled with love. She was blessed in more ways than any single person deserved, and she felt deeply grateful for all she had.

Adam’s life had been the opposite and extremely difficult. Their friend Leo’s life had been even worse, which was almost impossible for her to imagine. When she and Adam had found Leo and Benny hiding in the greenhouse on a frigid winter evening it changed Rebecca’s world. Leo and his baby brother were orphans with no place to go. They didn’t even have proper clothing to keep them warm. They were all much better off now, but their difficult circumstances made Rebecca realize how fortunate she was to have such a loving family—and how desperately she wanted one of her own.

o0o

On Thursday Adam finally arrived home. The village of Fredonia with its twin parks, two-story brick buildings, and towering maple trees was a welcome sight for Adam. He was home and seeing the little village through new eyes—the eyes of a confident man who had witnessed and learned much, who was no longer that scared boy who had come here with his family seeking safety a decade earlier.

Flowering magnolia, crabapple, and leafy maple trees lined Liberty Street, offering floral-scented shade to the homes he passed on his way to Grayson’s Livery—and the one woman he’d been aching to return to.

Heart pounding, Adam approached the white two-story house Rebecca shared with her six siblings and their parents Radford and Evelyn Grayson. The wide front porch with a black spindle railing and four large support columns beckoned him to sit a spell. But he was headed for the big barn and livery out back that would soon need a fresh coat of paint. A garden to the left of the barn had been freshly tilled and was ready for planting. To the right of the livery, a large paddock ran across the yard and circled back behind the barn.

A warm spring breeze, scented by the fragrant lilac bushes bordering their property, urged Adam forward. New lime-green leaves were making an appearance on the massive, sprawling oak tree in their side yard, a place Adam had spent many happy hours with Rebecca and her family.

In New York, May was a time of birth and awakening, a time for new beginnings, a time for Adam and Rebecca to finally begin their life together.

In one month she would be his wife.

In one minute she would be in his arms.

His heartbeat doubled as he dropped his bags by the stone fence that girded their property. He strode into the yard and moved past the quiet house. The red double doors at the front of the livery were open, but he knew without looking that Rebecca would be outside. He rounded the livery and went to the large paddock. In the early afternoon, Rebecca would be there training and tending her beloved horses.

Adam knew it as surely as he knew he was never going to leave her again.

He found her standing in the patchy grass, working with her black mare, talking to Star as if the horse understood every loving word she spoke. Rebecca’s shiny mass of onyx-colored hair, loosely bound with a blue ribbon, draped her shoulder and shirtwaist like a silk sash. Her brown skirt, shortened four inches to keep it out of the dirt and off the livery floor, showed a good bit of her leather boots, faded and worn in pursuit of her passion. She was wonderfully disheveled and vibrantly alive.

“Rebecca?” he called softly, careful not to startle her black mare.

She spun on her boot heel, the question in her eyes fading in the instant she saw him. Not a word or a smile moved her beautiful lips as she dropped the curry brush and crossed the rutted ground of the paddock, moving directly toward him.

Adam leapt the split rail fence and met her beneath a low-limbed maple tree.

Emotion pumped through him, but not a sound left his mouth. What he felt was too big, as if he were a schooner navigating an ocean, riding one massive swell of feeling after another.

He gazed into her brown eyes, seeing her love and her pain, knowing he was the cause of both.

Wordlessly, they reached for each other, their fingers lacing. Gazes locked, their surging emotions made them tremble.

Robins twittered in the distance and a bee buzzed around a limb above their heads. Rebecca’s sleek black mare nickered from the far corner of the paddock as if welcoming him home. A light breeze swept a strand of Rebecca’s long hair across her cheek, and he watched it flirt with her collarbone and the rapid pulse beating in her throat.

The breeze came off Lake Erie and Canadaway Creek where he and Rebecca once played—where they still met when he came home. The memory of her then and the sight of her now blended together in his head like a wild, wonderful painting.

She brushed the pad of her thumb over his abraded knuckles, her eyes taking in everything, her silence telling him that she noticed his wounds... that she knew something had happened that changed him. Gently, she raised his palm to her chest and pressed it above her thudding heart. That simple gesture of love and understanding was his undoing.

He swept her into his arms, aching to kiss her, knowing he couldn’t. “I’ve missed you so,” he whispered.

“Oh, Adam... it’s been unbearable,” she said, her sweet, soft voice filling his ears as it had filled his dreams.

He nodded and pressed his face into her hair, missing the wonderful scent of lavender and hay and fresh air that was Rebecca.

“I thought we were going to meet at the Willow this evening,” she said, her face tucked in the crook of his neck as if she, too, needed to immerse herself in his scent, his warmth, his love.

“I couldn’t wait another minute,” he whispered, his throat clogged by emotions he couldn’t swallow. He grieved the time they had lost. He celebrated their reunion and anticipated their future... and he wanted this moment to last forever. “I hope you’ll meet me this evening.”

“Nothing could keep me away,” she said, returning his enthusiastic hug.

“Your father would if he knew you were sneaking off without an escort.”

“He won’t know. And besides,” she said, leaning back in Adam’s arms, “We’ll do nothing improper, will we?”

Surprised, he raised his eyebrows. “Have we ever?”

“No, Adam.” She placed her palm on his chest, killing him with her touch. “You’re an honorable, remarkable man. Thankfully, you’ve been strong enough to protect both of us. But I’m years beyond the point of wanting protection. I want to be with you and begin our married life together.”

He groaned. “It’s all I’ve been able to think about these past seven months.” He stepped back and clasped her work-roughened, loving hands in his own. “I’m glad I found you alone.”

“Me, too.” Rebecca gazed up at him, her brown eyes sparkling with love. “Mama’s in the house putting Emma down for a nap. The younger kids are at school, and Will and Daddy are at the mill again today.”

A thrill shot through Adam. He would return to the mill tomorrow—as a partner. He’d been adopted into the Grayson family, but he’d earned his way into a partnership at the mill. The Grayson brothers—Rebecca’s father, Radford; Adam’s adopted father, Duke; and their brothers, Kyle and Boyd—had several sons between them, but Adam was the eldest and the one who would lead the way for the next generation of Graysons wanting to follow the footsteps of their fathers into the sawmilling business. To become worthy of that position, Adam had gone to university and apprenticed at Crane and Grayson, and though it was at great sacrifice to his heart, he’d become a worldly man capable of running the prosperous mill business—and providing for Rebecca and the family they would soon begin.

“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.

Chapter Three

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.”

His voice and the images he had evoked with his words mesmerized her. “It sounds majestic,” she said, softly. “While you’ve been gone I’ve been living on our memories, but, Adam, there is so much more awaiting us. I’m eager to see all these wonderful places you want to share with me.”

“We’ll take our children to these places, too, Rebecca. We’ll sink our roots right here in Fredonia and raise our children in the loving bosom of our family while we explore the world around us as life permits.”

A vivid memory of Adam rose up in her mind, and Rebecca smiled. “Then maybe I’ll finally get that train ride to Buffalo you promised me. Do you remember that? I was about to turn sixteen, and we both wanted to sneak away and get married. When we finally admitted that eloping was not only impossible, but the wrong thing to do, you promised to take me to Buffalo on the train after we married.”

“What I recall is that you were angry with me for talking sense into that pretty head of yours.” An almost sad expression crossed his face. “You probably don’t remember how ashamed I was that I couldn’t afford to marry and support you then.”

Rebecca cupped his jaw. “There isn’t a moment I’ve spent with you that’s not etched in my mind. I remember everything, Adam.”

“In that case, do you remember where we buried our worry stones?”

“Of course,” she said with a laugh. “From that knob on the willow trunk it is six paces in that direction,” she said, gesturing just left of where they were sitting.

“Well, love, today is the day we dig them up.” Adam pulled a pointed rock out of his coat pocket. “I picked this up on my way here. Shall we unearth our treasures?”

“Yes, and I hope we never have to bury them again,” she said, relief and hope flooding through her.

At thirteen they had found the stones during one of their many trips to the creek. The stones had been polished smooth during their tumbling journey down the creek. Adam, who knew about such things, had told her that rubbing the surface of a smooth stone was calming and would ease worry. So they carried them and used them as they worked out their daily troubles, but each time Adam left for university or his apprenticeship they buried their stones. It was their way of leaving their pain and their worries for the rain to wash away. They would dig up their stones each time he returned home and bury them again when he left. Six long years later they were finally, hopefully, digging up their stones for the last time.

“Mark the spot if you can,” Adam said, challenging Rebecca to find their hidden treasure.

“You doubt me, sir?” Rebecca gladly accepted his challenge and haughtily lifted her nose as she placed her palm on the damp ground. “Here. Dig if you dare.”

Laughing, Adam raked a deep furrow in the damp earth with his pointed stone.

Scout took that as a sign and dug in with both paws, raking and throwing clumps of dirt as if searching for a long lost bone.

“Whoa, fella,” Adam said, wrestling Scout away from the small hole he’d managed to dig. “This is my job.” He picked up a broken piece of a branch and tossed it toward the creek. With a happy yip, Scout shot from beneath the tree and raced to the creek bank where the branch landed.

Grinning, Rebecca nodded at the hole. “A little deeper and you’ll find both stones.”

“If you’re wrong, you’ll owe me a kiss.”

“I’ll kiss you even if I’m right.”

Oh, how she loved that look in his eyes that shut out the rest of the world, that told her all he could see was her.

“Then what shall we wager?” he asked, his voice deep, sexy, tempting her to slip into his arms.

“I’d like that train ride you promised me eight years ago. I’ve been waiting a long time, you know.”

“Will you settle for a train ride to Crane Landing instead of Buffalo?”

She kissed him to answer his question and because she couldn’t help herself. She needed this honorable, remarkable man. The girl in her wanted to reunite with her friend and sweetheart. The woman in her needed to connect with the man Adam had become, the man she would marry, the man who would love her and carry her across the threshold of lovemaking and into the world of motherhood and being his wife, his lifelong companion.

He kissed her with a deep, slow, hungry sort of kiss that melted her against him.

Night peepers began their rhythmic chirping as Canadaway Creek burbled in the background. Tucked in their nest beneath the willow tree, Rebecca and Adam allowed themselves one languorous and passionate kiss. Loneliness and aching desire flowed between them as they poured themselves into each other. He held her close as her fingers threaded into his windblown hair.

The quiet nicker of Rebecca’s mare told her it was time to go.

Slowly, she eased away... and received a wet lick from Scout on her right ear. “Ack!” she said, wiping her ear with the sleeve of her sweater. Laughing, she picked up his stick and threw it back toward the creek.

Exchanging a smile with Adam, she said, “I need to get home.”

He nodded and released a ragged sigh. “I know.”

They sat for a moment, Rebecca leaning against him, safe in his arms, as they listened to the familiar sounds of evening settling in. The creek was deeply shadowed; the sound of tumbling water from early day was now a quiet babble as it flowed by them.

“I’ll bring you and Daddy lunch tomorrow,” she said, easing herself away from Adam’s warmth. “I can’t go all day without seeing you.”

“I’d like that,” he said, returning to the excavation of their stones.

She was off by six inches, but they found their special stones and wiped them clean with Adam’s blue handkerchief. The small misshapen rocks nested in their palms, their weight comforting and familiar. They would keep them in their pockets, a secret that only the two of them shared. For Rebecca, holding the stone in her hand was like having a part of Adam with her, a token of their love that was as solid and unyielding as their worry stones.

Shifting her gaze from the stone in her palm to Adam’s handsome face, she said, “I believe you owe me a kiss, sir.”

To her surprise, Adam pulled her down on top of him and kissed her thoroughly. He rolled her to her back and ended with a playful nip on her neck. “If I recall correctly, missy, you still owe me a pair of boots.”

Rebecca burst out laughing and immediately clapped a hand over her mouth to keep the sound from traveling the creek.

“Tossing them in the creek was unforgivably cruel, Rebecca Jean.”

When she caught her breath, she said, “I was fifteen and frustrated, Adam. I was in a fit that day and not in control of my actions.”

“I’ll say.” His lopsided grin made her laugh again.

“I’ll add a piece of apple pie to your lunch tomorrow,” she said, loving the playful sparkle in his eyes. “Will that pay my debt?”

His eyes devoured her. “Marry me tomorrow and I’ll consider your debt paid.”

She laughed and planted a kiss on his wonderfully warm lips. “Get off me. I can’t be late.”

He rolled off and lunged to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Seriously, Rebecca. Maybe we should move up our wedding. We could spend our first month at Crane Landing in a pretty little house by the river. When we return to Fredonia, the furniture we ordered for our home will be here.”

She searched his eyes and felt a wild, reckless rush of heat shoot through her body. “Could we really do that?”

A slow, sure smile lifted his lips and made her stomach light with anticipation. “I’ll have to work things out at the mill, but I don’t want to wait another single day to be with you,” he said. “Please, marry me tomorrow.”

“Oh, Adam...” She embraced him, kissed his warm lips. “I don’t want to wait either.” She looked into his handsome face and knew she would do anything—anything at all—to be with him. “Come by tomorrow evening after you finish at the mill, and we’ll tell Mama and Daddy what we’ve decided.” She kissed his jaw then swung herself onto Star’s strong back. “Bring Pastor Ainsley with you.”

Chapter Four

Adam woke before dawn and put a pot of coffee on the cook-stove to brew. Duke and Faith were already stirring upstairs and would be down shortly.

He was used to fending for himself and was glad to pour them a cup of the aromatic steaming brew when they entered the kitchen. It gave them all a few extra minutes to enjoy a hot breakfast and enjoyable conversation over coffee before they began their day.

As the first rays of the sun slanted across the village, Adam walked out Liberty Street with his father, eagerly anticipating a day of heckling and hard work at the mill—and spending his wedding night at the White Inn with his wife.

“I can hardly keep pace with you, Adam.” With an unexpected chuckle, his father pulled Adam into one of his side-armed hugs that always made Adam feel special. “You seem awfully eager to get to the mill this morning.”

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he said honestly. He loved the mill and working with his father and uncles and their boisterous crew. He couldn’t wait to settle into his new home with Rebecca, and spend his days at the mill and his evenings with Rebecca and their family.

“Well, I’m glad to hear that, son, but let’s see if you’re singing the same tune after breaking your back all day. You may want to head straight back to Crane Landing.”

Adam’s gut tightened. He knew he needed to share his decision with his father. “I’d planned to tell you and Faith tonight, but... Rebecca and I decided not to wait until next month to marry. We’ll exchange our vows this evening and will head to Crane Landing on the morning train. We’ll return as soon as our furniture arrives.”

Duke’s eyebrows lifted, but his long, sure stride never faltered. “Sounds like you did more than just take Scout for a walk last night.”

Adam nodded, unwilling to lie. “We just talked for a few minutes, sir. I know this upsets our plans at the mill, and I’m truly sorry for the delay this will cause, but Rebecca and I want to marry—tonight.”

His father’s slow whistle told Adam he was considering the ramifications of their decision. “I assume you haven’t had this conversation with Radford or Evelyn yet?”

“No, sir. Rebecca and I will talk with them this evening. I’d appreciate it if you’d keep this to yourself today.”

Lifting his hands as if he wasn’t about to touch the subject, his father shook his head. “This is your business, Adam. I’ll be disappointed to have you leave again so soon, but I understand. Just know that Radford may not be as understanding. He’s not going to like having his daughter married so hastily, especially when the whole family has been planning a big celebration for the two of you. He’s going to feel that his daughter deserves better.”

For the first time, Adam questioned his decision. Rebecca had waited a long time for him and she did deserve more than a two minute ceremony with only her parents and siblings present. The Grayson men had planned their workload at the mill around Adam’s return. For him to work one day and leave again for several weeks was inconsiderate, and not the kind of decision a partner would make. Of course Radford would be upset, and rightfully so. Still, the thought of not marrying Rebecca tonight made Adam sick to his stomach.

“Before you commit to anything, why don’t you give this some thought today,” his father suggested as they approached the mill. “Maybe you and Rebecca should talk this over again before committing.”

It’s all Adam would be able to think about, but he gave his father a nod to acknowledge that he’d heard his words and would heed his wise council. He would talk with Rebecca first.

The site of the sprawling sawmill had always filled Adam with a sense of awe, and that hadn’t changed in all the years he’d been coming back to this place. Stacks of timber and cut lumber, high piles of sawdust, and the powerful Percherons moving drags of timber across the yard drew his thoughts to the work at hand. Men were already feeding slab wood into the massive boiler that powered the saw inside the mill building. In minutes he would hear the scream of the whirring saw blade and the rhythmic sound of the carriage table gigging back and forth as it shuttled the timber through the cutting process. He was part of this place, of this family, and both were as interwoven with his future as Rebecca was.

“It’s about time you got here,” Boyd said, slinging an arm around Adam’s neck and mock wrestling him. “We need some young blood to liven things up.”

Adam laughed and straightened his work shirt, twisting away from Boyd’s roughhousing. He could always count on his uncle Boyd to shake him out of his worries. “You keep things lively enough on your own, Uncle Boyd. You just want to make use of my strong back to do the heavy lifting.”

Duke nudged Boyd’s shoulder with a closed fist. “Told you he was smarter than you.”

“That wouldn’t take much,” Radford said, joining their small gathering. Radford clasped Adam’s hand in a firm handshake. “Welcome home, son. I’m sure glad to have you back at the mill.”

For Adam the moment was dreamlike. At thirteen, he could have never imagined his life like this, being surrounded by men of deep integrity and honor—and a wonderful sense of humor—who had become his family, and his friends, and now his partners.

His uncle Kyle was working their other mill today, once owned by his wife’s father, Tom Drake. Although Kyle split his time between the two mills, he had spent many hours teaching Adam the sawmill business, and Adam was looking forward to working with him again.

“Come on, fellas, we’re falling behind, and we have a big order of quartersawn oak to fill this week,” Radford said. He gestured to a pile of timber a good distance across the mill yard. “I’ll be feeding the saw with that pile today, so if any of you work in that area of the yard, keep your head up and your eyes open.”

“Yes, sir,” Adam said, acknowledging Radford’s warning.

Duke gave a half-nod as he walked away, his attention already focused on two men stacking lumber across the yard.

“Wait a few minutes and I’ll give you a hand,” Boyd said.

“We don’t have time to wait. The saw is hungry and we’re two days behind on this order. I’ll be working fast over there, so give me plenty of warning when you head my way.”

“You should wait, Radford. If that pile shifts in your direction, you’re going to need some warning to get the team and your stubborn self out of the way.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then grinned and patted Boyd’s shoulder. “But I’m glad you’re worried about me.”

Boyd’s lips pursed and his eye-roll made Adam laugh. “It wasn’t you I was worried about. Belle and Buck are my favorite horses.” Without so much as a by-your-leave, Boyd walked away.

It was just another day at the mill, another opportunity to heckle each other, and Adam loved being smack in the middle of it all.

“Why don’t you join us for supper this evening,” Radford said. “I’m sure Rebecca would like that. And I’m eager to hear more about your apprenticeship at Crane and Grayson.”

“Thank you, sir. I have a lot to share with you.”

“All right then. See you tonight. Now get to work,” Radford ordered, and then he headed off to the pile of timber, wearing a grin on his face.

Adam smiled, enjoying the playful taunt from a man he deeply admired. He had never looked at Radford as an uncle because he’d always thought of him as Rebecca’s father—a man who would someday become his father-in-law. That day would be soon, perhaps today. To even consider having a man like Radford Grayson as his father-in-law was an honor Adam couldn’t have imagined a few years ago.

How could he compromise all of this by being hasty? He had made a commitment to these men. He owed Rebecca more than hurried nuptials that they would remember the rest of their lives.

But the thought of being without her another day tortured him.

He gazed around, lost in thought, as the mill came to life. Horses snorted and harnesses jangled, wagons rattled and the boiler in the mill building gasped and spit. Shouts from the crew filled the yard as they welcomed Adam home and barked orders to each other. After years away, standing in the middle of the organized chaos with his Grayson family was one of the best moments of Adam’s life.

Now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave.

But he couldn’t ask his bride to spend the first month of their marriage sitting on flour barrels at a plank table or sleeping on a pallet on the floor. She deserved a comfortable home and a holiday away from her work—and they deserved a few weeks together after years of infrequent and too-short visits. He would explain this to Rebecca this evening, and they could decide together what to do.

For now, he would immerse himself elbow-deep in his work and enjoy being at the mill, however brief it might be.

Sunlight flooded the mill, raising the temperature to a sweaty seventy-six degrees before mid-day. Adam had taken off his long-sleeved shirt and was debarking a thick hickory timber when he noticed a commotion from the corner of his eye.

Managing a team of Percherons, Radford used chains and grappling hooks to extract a hewn oak log from a pile of timber. As it often did, the pile shifted, causing logs to pivot and roll free, which was one of the biggest dangers at the mill—and the reason Radford had warned them to use caution when in that area. Just one rolling timber could crush a man or cause serious destruction to anything in its path. Every man present knew to keep one eye on the timber piles.

But it wasn’t a man standing in harm’s way—it was Rebecca. She was riding her sleek black mare past the shifting log pile, one hand shielding her eyes from the sun, her pace leisurely as she searched the mill.

Adam had planned to meet her at the mill entrance where it wasn’t so dangerous. It was where they met all of their visitors and customers.

But Rebecca was here in the middle of their lumber yard on a busy day, while every mill hand was engaged with saws, hand axes, horses and wagons, grappling hooks and any number of tools and jobs that were dangerous—and she was riding in completely distracted because she was looking for him.

He knew when she spotted him because her face lit up.

The pile behind her shifted like an uncoiling viper.

Adam’s breath locked in his throat. He raised his arm, flagged her wildly, gesturing for her to move away, to go back to the entrance gate and wait for him.

In her vibrant, naturally reckless way, she stood up in the stirrups and gave him a wide smile and a jaunty wave.

His warning yell was lost in the scream of the saw blade in the mill house and the commands and shouts from the men in the yard.

He ran toward her on leaden legs, watching with sickening dread as a log kicked out from the pile behind her, pivoted ninety degrees and struck the hindquarters of her mare.

The unexpected assault made Star lunge forward and bolt into a panicked run.

The violent lurch unseated Rebecca and tumbled her backward. She instinctively splayed her arms wide and then down, as if to catch her body from falling, but there was only air and an angry tangle of wood beneath her. Rebecca’s head hit the pile first—hard—and then there came no more flailing of her limbs, but a loosening of her body, as if she’d become a ragdoll dropped to the dust.

Icy fear streamed through Adam as he raced toward her inert body, his only thought to pull her off the shifting timbers.

He and Boyd reached her at the same moment, the two of them sweeping her off the timber pile. Adam lifted her into his arms and carried her away from the rolling, bouncing logs.

Boyd released a long, shrill whistle that raised the hair on Adam’s arms and caught the attention of every man in the yard. A collective shout filled the mill, but not a word left Adam’s throat as he watched the timber pile collapse. Logs bounced and rolled across the sawdust and bark-littered ground as he and Boyd moved Rebecca farther away.

A bell clanged loudly, echoing through the yard, warning the mill crew of an accident, of danger, to stop what they were doing. Within seconds the mill was nearly silent. Only the saw in the mill building made one final screaming pass before it, too, was silenced. Time seemed fluid and slow as Adam stood with Rebecca draped over his arms, her blood soaking the left shoulder and sleeve of his work shirt.

Adam watched his father leap a pile of slab wood and land beside them. Eyes intense and focused, assessing the situation like the lawman he used to be, Duke waved for Cyrus Darling, who was manning the lumber wagon, to bring it around quickly.

As Cyrus turned the wagon in their direction, Radford raced into their midst, his eyes wide as if expecting an attack from an unseen enemy. “What happened?” he asked. As his gaze fell on Rebecca draped across Adam’s trembling arms, he seemed to shrink a foot. The color drained from his face as if leached from the earth beneath his leather boots. “Dear God, no,” he whispered, reaching for his daughter, his voice quaking. He cupped her beautiful face and called her name.

Rebecca didn’t respond.

“What happened?” Radford asked, his dumbstruck expression telling Adam that he didn’t realize he’d caused his daughter’s accident.

“She was unseated and fell off her horse,” Adam said, knowing he needed to protect Radford from the truth.

Boyd raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t elaborate as to why she’d been unseated.

Radford shifted his horror-filled gaze from his blood-covered fingers to Adam’s face. “What is she doing here?”

Sick with fear, Adam could barely get the words out. “She was bringing our lunch.”

Suddenly, time seemed to explode and everything happened at once. Rebecca’s mare raced by, eyes wild as Boyd snagged one of the trailing reins to its bridle.

“Whoa, girl, easy now,” Boyd said, as he ran alongside the horse, gently slowing the frightened creature and bringing her to a prancing stop. “I’ll find Doc Milton and bring him to the house.” With that, he launched himself onto the mare’s back and raced out of the mill.

Cyrus halted the wagon beside them.

Adam didn’t wait for assistance. With Rebecca in his arms, he planted his right foot on a log that was waiting to be debarked, anchored his left foot on a metal sideboard rail, and heaved himself onto the seat.

As Cyrus clucked to the thick-bodied Percherons, Radford and Duke leapt onto the wagon bed and leaned over the back of the crude wooden seat. They checked Rebecca’s head wound, which was bleeding at a frightening rate.

Radford retrieved a clean handkerchief from his shirt pocket and cupped it behind his daughter’s head. When her blood ran in rivulets over his fingers and wrist, he increased the pressure on her wound and pleaded with her to open her eyes.

Adam said nothing because he knew Rebecca was unable to respond. He could feel it in the weight of her body. He’d known she was injured the instant the back of her head slammed against the oak log that she had landed upon. He said nothing because he couldn’t bear to tell anyone what he already knew—Rebecca’s injury was life-threatening.

Radford shook his head, his eyes filled with fear and disbelief. “Adam, why would you have her come to the mill in the middle of our day? You can’t have forgotten how dangerous it is in the yard?”

He hadn’t forgotten, and he hadn’t asked her to come to the mill, but he had been selfish and short sighted in accepting her offer to bring him lunch. He said nothing, though, knowing his words and explanation would make no difference.

He had never imagined Rebecca in his arms like this, so injured, so lifeless, and that it would be because of him.

Chapter Five

Adam waited downstairs in the silent kitchen with Radford and the others while Doc Milton sutured and dressed Rebecca’s head wound. Evelyn was with them, and when she finally followed the doctor downstairs, deep lines of worry marred her forehead.

As the doctor braced his fists on the long oak table and shared his growing concerns about Rebecca’s unresponsive condition, an ocean of dread filled Adam’s chest. According to Doc Milton, the longer Rebecca remained unconscious, the more complicated her injury could be and the greater the chance of lasting effects, which increased the possibility of death.

Death...

Adam couldn’t breathe. To even imagine Rebecca dying was... impossible.

While the doctor delivered the dire news and gave instructions for Rebecca’s care, Adam stood in the kitchen with Rebecca’s parents, uncles, and her brothers, Will and Josh.

Boyd leaned against the kitchen sideboard beside Adam’s father. A light breeze wafted in the kitchen window, fluttering the delicate green and yellow curtains that Rebecca had cut, sewn, and embroidered for her mother’s Christmas gift four years ago. The smell of freshly baked bread cooling on Evelyn’s counter, which usually made Adam’s mouth water and his stomach growl in happy anticipation, nauseated him.

Rebecca was always so vibrant and filled with such easy joy. She couldn’t be hurt and deathly silent.

But she was.

And she could die.

Adam’s knees gave out and he sagged against the frame of the open kitchen door. His breath came in short pants. He feared he might heave up whatever remained of his breakfast.

Evelyn exchanged a look with Radford, the terror and love in her eyes saying everything her pursed lips couldn’t utter.

Boyd hooked his arms around Will and Josh and hugged them close for a second. As they looked up at him, he patted their shoulders as if to say this would be a hard journey but one they would make together.

Numb, his ears ringing, it took Adam several seconds to realize that his father had crossed the kitchen and spoken to him. “I’ll let Faith know what’s happened. We’ll both be back shortly and bring you a change of clothes,” he said, nodding at Adam’s blood-soaked shirt and pants.

The words seemed to flow through Adam’s head without meaning anything, but he gave a nod to indicate he’d heard them.

“Son?” His father gripped his shoulders and turned them face-to-face. “Rebecca’s young and healthy and has a lot to live for. When you sit with her, remind her of that. Let her hear your voice and know you’re with her.”

“Yes, sir,” Adam said, struggling to keep his voice from breaking.

Adam’s father turned and clapped a hand on Radford’s shoulder. The men exchanged a solemn look. As with everything in their lives, the brothers would face this together. They didn’t need words to know this. Even Adam, who had only been part of the family for a decade, knew their unspoken commitment. The Grayson brothers would always stand together and weather the storms.

When his father headed outside, Adam followed him onto the wide porch where he and Rebecca had spent the majority of their courting hours together.

Gulping air, fighting to reel in his emotions, Adam stood like a man lost in an unforgiving wilderness. He didn’t know what to do. His thoughts scrambled and his heart banged in his chest. He had never been so scared in his life. Not even during his last seconds beneath the surface of the cold Atlantic water.

“It’s not going to be easy, son,” his father said, “but we’ll get through this one hour at a time.”

Adam nodded, but he couldn’t imagine how they would manage. He couldn’t bear to witness the devastation on the faces of Rebecca’s family and know he was responsible. Radford may have jostled the log, but Adam was the reason Rebecca had come to the mill.

His father left and headed down Liberty Street with long, sure strides that reminded Adam of his youth when he had tried, and failed, to match his father’s gait. Now, matching his pace had not only become possible but second nature for Adam. From the minute he’d met Duke Grayson, Adam had tried to emulate everything about the man and his brothers. He had believed it possible to become a Grayson man by studying and copying their mannerisms and asking himself what a Grayson man would do.

Now he understood that it was the fiber of a man’s character and his words and actions that placed his father and brothers into the “Grayson” category—a category that didn’t include Adam.

He should have never agreed to let Rebecca come to the mill. It was selfish and short-sighted. He should not have encouraged her to want anything other than what they had meticulously planned.

The sharp blade of regret cleaved the breath from his lungs. He sagged against the spindle railing that he and Rebecca had painted black four years ago.

This couldn’t be happening!

His throat ached from the wad of emotion he knew he couldn’t release. Somehow he had to go back inside and do what he could to help Rebecca and her family through this tragedy.

But how was he going to do that when he couldn’t make it through this himself?

o0o

The hours ticked by, each second punctuated by a relentless tick-tock-tick-tock from the grandfather clock in the parlor. Dazed, their conversations brief and hushed, Adam and Rebecca’s family cycled from the parlor to the porch to Rebecca’s bedside and back to the kitchen.

Faith brought food, but only the children ate before scurrying outside.

Grandma Grayson, mother to the Grayson men, grandmother to Rebecca—and Adam by adoption—took charge of the house and the children, holding all of them together with her great love and no-nonsense manner.

Throughout the day and evening, the screen door spring twanged as Rebecca’s younger siblings slipped in and out of the house. For a few minutes at a time, Adam could hear the youngest siblings, Sarah, Emma, and Tyler playing in the yard, their bubbly laughter signaling the moments when they were distracted from the frightening drama happening inside the house. Then, as if they suddenly remembered the drawn, worried expressions on their parents’ faces, they would grow quiet for a spell.

Inside, Adam engaged in a smattering of conversation with the doctor as the man checked and reported on Rebecca’s progress throughout the day. It didn’t take many words to say “no change,” but the doctor was patient with their unending questions. Together, Rebecca’s family and Adam listened closely to Doc Milton’s warning that he couldn’t promise anything. Even if Rebecca woke up, he couldn’t accurately gauge her condition. Head wounds were tricky and unpredictable, he told them again and again.

So they waited without answers. They prayed for Rebecca to recover quickly and completely and to awaken soon.

Each of them by turn sat at her bedside, stroking her hand, watching the gray around her eyes deepen to black. Their own eyes were circled with dark rings of exhaustion and worry.

Finally, Evelyn left the chair she’d occupied nearly every minute of the past thirty hours. “I need to check on the children, Adam. Would you mind sitting with Rebecca for a few minutes?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Of course not,” he said, quietly. “I appreciate you letting me stay with her. I know that being here in her private chambers is... unacceptable.”

“Under the circumstances, I can’t see the harm.” A small, sad smile touched her lips, and she patted his shoulder. “I’ll send her father up again. He doesn’t like to be away from her for more than a minute or two.”

“I know the feeling.”

Evelyn paused and stroked her hand over his aching back. “I know you do, Adam.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You belong here with Rebecca as much as any of us.” With that, she left the room.

This was Adam’s first moment alone with Rebecca since the accident. He cupped her limp hand in his. He wanted to apologize for not protecting her, for being selfish. Tenderly, he stroked her brow and whispered her name.

Her moan startled him. Had he unintentionally hurt her?

She released another low moan.

“Rebecca?” he called softly, hopefully.

She remained as unresponsive as she’d been since the accident.

He talked to her, quietly calling her name, asking her to open her beautiful eyes, finally falling silent in the knowledge that she was drifting in a black void from which not even he could free her.

Slowly, he looked around her bedchamber, seeing a pretty blue night robe trimmed in white lace hanging from the back of her door. Her scuffed riding boots stood in a corner by an oak armoire, and beside that sat the small chest he’d made for her out of rosewood and cedar. She said she kept his letters in the trunk, and he wondered if she’d reread the notes and lingered over them as he had done with her letters.

A small mahogany flip top dressing table stood against the wall opposite the bed, and Adam imagined Rebecca sitting there brushing her long hair. A small and worn book sat on the right side of the table, with her worry stone resting atop it. He picked up the small nugget, noting that it was lighter than his own stone, that the shape and the grooves had a different flow, a different feel than the ones he knew so well in his own stone. Knowing that Rebecca had held and rubbed the stone, worried the smooth channels as she faced her problems and challenges, made him ache.

Adam didn’t like to think that Rebecca had worried or hurt or wanted for anything, but he knew she had. She’d probably kept most of those concerns to herself, mulled them over right here in her room. This had been her chamber for two decades, and her light lavender scent lived in the bedding and the rose colored curtains and the floral wallpaper. In this pretty little room she slept, dressed, read his love letters, and studied the veterinarian skills she was learning. She daydreamed here about marrying him, having their children, and traveling to Crane Landing and the other places Adam had told her about. To realize that all her dreams could end in this tiny room made Adam’s throat constrict around a wad of grief.

He clutched her stone in his hand, remembering their last moments together.

Rebecca’s pain-filled groan snapped him around. He leaned over and clasped her hand, the worry stone between their palms.

“I’m here, love.” He said the words with strength and purpose, hoping that she could hear, could understand that he would help her bear whatever agony and discomfort gripped her.

For a moment, she seemed to listen, but her eyes didn’t open. Her forehead scrunched, and she released another moan and rolled her head left as if trying to escape the pain.

Adam couldn’t bear to see her hurting. He shot to the top of the stairs. “Doc Milton! Rebecca is stirring!”

Before the doctor could heave himself from the wingback chair, Radford raced to the top of the stairs, his eyes filled with dread.

“She moaned, sir,” Adam said, regretting that his shout had scared Radford. “I hope it means she’s waking up.”

In three strides, Radford ducked into Rebecca’s room. He sat beside her and cupped her face. “Come on, sprite. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

Adam leaned in the doorway, watching Radford plead with his daughter. Seeing the man’s anguish twisted Adam’s gut. He, too, felt that helpless feeling, that intense love, that sickening fear that was reflected in Radford’s eyes.

Doc Milton stepped past Adam and quickly tended to Rebecca. He checked her eyes, her breathing, her heart, and her head wound, then sat back on the edge of the bed. “She’s still out, but she’s feeling pain now. Might mean she’s coming around. Might just mean she’s hurting. I’ll give her a small dose of laudanum to ease her suffering a bit.”

After he administered the opiate, the doctor checked her pulse and looked down in surprise. “What’s this?” He turned Rebecca’s palm toward the ceiling. Using his thumb, he inspected the object wobbling in her lightly closed fist. “It appears to be a... rock of some sort.”

Adam’s heartbeat doubled. Their worry stones had been one of many secrets the two of them had shared. He would hate to have something so special be revealed under such awful circumstances.

Evelyn, who had entered the room behind the doctor, shrugged and said she didn’t know what it was.

Radford shook his head, appearing as confused as Evelyn and the doctor. “Maybe one of the children put it there.”

Doc Milton harrumphed. “Whatever it is,” he said, “it seems to bring her some comfort.”

A sad smile lifted one corner of Radford’s mouth. “I’m sure this is one of her treasures,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “From the time she was a baby, she dragged in more sticks and stones and leaves than an old hound dog. She’d make a fuss about every item and show me in detail why they were worth keeping.” He stood silent for a minute as if lost in thought. “She sees beauty in everything around her.”

“She’s a special young lady, for certain.” The doctor left the stone resting between Rebecca’s palm and lax fingers as he turned his attention back to her head dressing. “There is some good news, Radford. The bleeding has stopped.”

Layers of white muslin dressing wrapped Rebecca’s head. Her long hair flowed from beneath the bandage and down over her pillow and shoulders where it formed a shiny black pool. Adam ached to stroke her face, hold her hand and comfort her, but it was Radford’s time now, so Adam stepped aside.

o0o

Adam’s grandmother took the three youngest children home with her to spend the night. Will and Josh tended to chores in the livery while Adam talked with Radford.

They waited in the parlor while Evelyn freshened Rebecca’s bedding and gave her a sponge bath, neither of them having much to say.

Throughout the last decade, Adam had spent many hours in this parlor talking with Radford about the sawmill business. They had discussed Adam attending university and how he planned to build a house for Rebecca. They talked about helping neighbors and just about every subject one could think of. Their conversations had always come so easily. Now, they seemed to have nothing to say to one another, each of them lost in thought and emotionally exhausted.

Will came inside and joined them in the parlor. He told his father about a loose shoe on one of their horses and that he had gotten the last stall repaired. After getting a nod of thanks and little response from his father, and even less conversation from Adam, the boy gave up and headed outside to the porch.

The hours deepened into dawn. By turns, Radford and Adam drifted off until their chins hit their chests or their loud snoring jerked them awake. The silent house smelled of over-brewed coffee, but Adam got up and poured himself a cup. He took it to the porch where Will was asleep on the porch swing.

Adam sat in a wide chair at the opposite end of the porch and watched the sun rise. The pale light lit the apple orchard between Radford’s home and his mother’s house on the other side. Evelyn Tucker and her parents had been neighbors with the Graysons for several decades and had raised their children together. They must have faced hard times like this, times when they were scared and the future was uncertain. Maybe that’s why Grandma Grayson was able to keep everyone from falling apart. Maybe those other times had taught her how to handle the fear and uncertainty.

Maybe it was simply age that helped a person learn that skill. Doc Milton had that ability to take charge and tend to the necessary without the jangled nerves and emotional upheaval that Adam and the others were experiencing.

Or was it simply because they weren’t eaten up with guilt?

The dark coffee settled like acid in Adam’s empty stomach. He should have never let Rebecca come to the mill.

Chapter Six

She came awake slowly, to the fragrant smell of coffee and an unbearable ache lodged deep in her head. Something cold touched her lips, and she searched with her mouth, welcoming the coldness that wet her tongue.

“I’m here, Rebecca...”

His calm voice and cool hand flowed over her like a deep, soothing river. She concentrated on the gentle stroke of his fingers, willing the claw around her head to unlock its painful talons.

“I know it hurts. I’m so sorry.”

She fought to open her eyes, to resist the shadows that flickered at the edge of awareness. Coolness washed over her face, and she licked the dew from her lips.

“Please... wake up while I’m with you,” he requested, a gentle urgency in his voice.

She basked in the comfort his hands offered, instinctively seeking his tender touch.

His voice drew her, compelled her to see the man stroking her cheek. She peered at him through slits, as though peeking between the cracks of an old horse stall.

His image burned into her mind like an etching on a daguerreotype plate. Sculpted cheekbones. Proud nose. A solid chin in need of a shave. Brown almond-shaped eyes that seemed to look into her soul.

She glanced beyond his shoulder to the fading light outside the curtained window and then returned to her surroundings. She lay in a bed in a pretty room with floral wallpaper and three tall doors that led to who knew where? To her right was a small vanity with a small mirror and a nightstand holding a pretty lamp. Beyond that stood an armoire and on the floor beside it sat a heavy wooden chest of some sort.

“Rebecca, please talk to me. I need to hear your voice.”

Rebecca? The intensity in his eyes kept her silent.

She struggled to push herself upright, but a jagged bolt of pain cut through her head. She fell back on the pillow, panting, her skull feeling as if it was splitting into two halves.

“I’ll get the doctor,” he said.

She grasped his hand, but she couldn’t hold onto him as he stood. “Who you are?” she croaked, her voice strained and hoarse. She rolled her throbbing head, wondering at her jumbled words, her muddled thinking.

His eyebrows lifted as if she’d just surprised him. “Who am I?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Are you playing with me, Rebecca?”

She shook her head, but the movement sickened her and the edges of her vision grew black. Dizziness washed over her and her head lolled.

o0o

Somewhere a door closed and slow footsteps approached. She struggled to open her eyes, but her lids were weighted. Her fingers twitched and she tried to lift her arm, but it, too, felt leaden. The footsteps stopped beside her.

“My love, you have a lot of people waiting for you to awaken.”

The man's voice came to her like soft rain upon her face, cool... soothing... gentle. An image appeared in the mist. Brown, compassion-filled eyes beckoned her, compelled her to trust him.

The gentle touch of his palm on her forehead eased the tension in her shoulders. Coolness washed over her face, and she tasted water on her tongue. She sucked the wet cloth into her mouth, wanting more of the precious liquid.

“Just a little for now.” Cool water dribbled over her dry lips into her parched mouth. “Does that help?”

She tilted her face and welcomed the dribble of water that crossed her lips. Sighing, she lifted her lashes and looked into his dark, worried eyes.

“It's good to see your eyes open. You’ve been sleeping a very long time.”

She blinked, but his image remained blurry. Who was this man sitting on her bed, gazing at her, all rugged and handsome? And who was the woman standing behind him who seemed to be on the verge of tears?

He set the water glass and cloth aside and smiled down at her. “You think you might remember me now?”

She didn't dare answer.

His smile faded. “Rebecca, you’re scaring me to death. Please tell me you know who I am.”

She struggled to sit up, gasping in pain as her head throbbed and the muscles in her aching body protested. She gritted her teeth and forced herself up on her elbows.

He and the woman assisted her and then propped two fat pillows behind her shoulders. “Lean back and rest,” the woman said, her voice kind and comforting. “I’ll fetch the doctor.”

In too much pain to argue, she watched the man as intensely as he was regarding her. “What happened to me?” she asked, her voice little more than a croak.

“You were unseated by your horse and cracked your head on an oak log.”

It felt as if her head had been split in half. She tried to remember, but everything was a jumble, and her mind was as empty of memory as her body was full of pain.

She couldn’t remember one single thing from before the man had awakened her. Not one thing. She lurched upright, trembling with weakness and fear as her thoughts ran straight into a black hole. She began to panic.

The room began to spin.

Sick to her stomach, she sagged forward against him. Questions rolled through her like the waves of nausea creating havoc in her stomach and her mind.

He held her gently as her head lolled against his chest. “I’ve got you, darling.”

As waves of dizziness washed over her, she clung to him, listening to his strong, steady heartbeat beneath her ear. Sweat prickled her face and neck. Her head lolled forward and her stomach rolled. She gaged and raised shaking fingers to her mouth, sagging fully into his arms.

“Are you ill?” He reached out and lifted an empty wash basin from the nightstand.

She gritted her teeth against her rising nausea, but lost her battle.

Deftly, he lowered her to the mattress and held her hair as she retched bile into the hand basin.

“I'm sorry, love.”

Sweat burst from her pores and washed her with chills as dry heaves overtook her. Fire shot through her ribs each time her stomach contracted with long, agonizing shudders that stole her breath.

He stroked her shoulder and arm, whispering apologies each time she moaned from the excruciating pain that wracked her body. Even when she fought to keep the sound inside, he seemed to know, to touch her, to cup his palm over her tender shoulders. Tears streamed from her eyes and cannons seemed to explode in her head.

An eternity passed before the dry heaves subsided. Finally she wilted onto the mattress, wasted.

He wiped the perspiration and tears from her face with his bare palm.

She placed a trembling hand on her chest. “Who I am?” she asked, struggling with the slippery words.

His eyes darkened. “You don’t know?”

For several seconds she frantically tried to summon her name, but every query for an answer disappeared into the black void where her memories should be. Every piece of her life that came before she’d opened her eyes with this man at her side was gone... including her name.

She rolled her head from side to side as pain hammered her skull.

His face paled and a sick look filled his expression. “Oh, Rebecca...”

“You are who?” she asked, keeping her breath shallow to spare her aching head. She needed to know who he was, and more importantly who she was.

He sighed and moisture brimmed in his eyes. “You’re Rebecca Grayson, and I’m Adam—the man you’ve promised to marry.”

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t think past the gut-punch of shock. She’d never seen him before in her life. Everything was sideways and mixed up in her head and she hurt so badly she wanted to weep from the pain.

A pretty woman entered the room dressed in a plain spring green, day dress. “The doctor will be right up.” She clasped Rebecca’s hands in her own, her eyes filled with tender concern. “You have given us a terrible scare, Rebecca.”

Rebecca... Her name was Rebecca? The throbbing pain in her skull made it difficult to think, but apparently she belonged here with these kind people.

A very tall, very handsome man entered the room and stopped cold when her eyes met his. “Sprite...” He’d whispered the name as if he couldn’t get his breath. He leaned down and cupped her cheek in his large, warm palm. “You have scared twenty years off my life.”

Her gaze bounced between the three of them hovering over her. Confused, overwhelmed, and filled with pain, she shrank back into the damp bedding.

The man named Adam got to his feet and spoke to the tall man at her bedside. “You should know that Rebecca doesn’t remember me,” he said, as if someone had just died. “I don’t think she remembers any of us.”

The tall man’s jaw dropped.

The woman’s green eyes widened. “You know us, don’t you, sweetheart?” she asked.

The only thing she—Rebecca—knew was pain. Her head pounded and her words were so jumbled all she could manage to say was, “No.”

o0o

Adam stood on the porch, staring into the twilight with his thoughts whipped into chaos like debris in a whirlwind.

Rebecca didn’t know him.

She didn’t remember their love or the million small moments they had shared together.

There was no recognition in her eyes when she looked at him, no friendship, no playful flirting, no love. To her, Adam was a stranger. They had never met, never shared their dreams, or laughed together. All he’d seen in her eyes was pain.

“Am I interrupting?” her brother, Will, a dark-haired, brown-eyed younger version of Radford, asked as he sat on the porch railing across from Adam.

Shaking his head, Adam released a weary sigh.

“I know Doc Milton warned us that head injuries are tricky, but I never expected this.” Will shoved his fingers into his bark brown hair. “It just seems... impossible.”

Adam nodded. “I know.”

“I can’t forget my father’s expression when Rebecca said she didn’t know him. I stood in the doorway with Doc Milton feeling as if I’d been punched in the forehead. That look on my father’s face was... it was just...” Will shook his head as if to snap himself out of his stupor. “I’ll never forget it.”

Neither would Adam—because he felt that same terrifying despair that had been in Radford’s eyes.

“Doc Milton warned us to take this a day at a time,” Will said, “but it’s like being trapped in a nightmare. All I want is for it to end.”

It was worse than a nightmare because it was real. Adam’s mind flashed back to Rebecca’s accident, seeing her tumble backward, being too far away to save her, and he wanted to weep with regret. Instead, he met Will’s concern-filled eyes. “There is nothing easy about this, but we have to be strong and help Rebecca. She’s hurt and scared. Hopefully a couple days of healing and bed rest will put her mind right and ease her pain.”

“I hope so,” he said, “but the wait isn’t going to be easy for any of us, especially for my father.”

Adam nodded because there was nothing else to say.

The screen door swung open and Radford stepped onto the porch. He looked years older, and it wasn’t because of the bluish hue of twilight shadows darkening the porch. The man was sick with fear.

“She’s gone again,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Doc says there’s no telling how long she’ll be in and out like this, or if she’ll ever get her memory back.” His eyes, raw with pain, drilled into Adam. “She doesn’t even know her own father.”

Despite the pain in Radford’s voice, Adam heard the accusation. This was Adam’s fault. He reminded himself that Radford was in pain, he was scared, and he was angry. Every one of those emotions was justified.

“I know, sir. She doesn’t know her future husband either.” Adam descended the steps, then stopped and turned back. “I’ll return in the morning.” His future wife was here, and he intended to be at her side. But as he headed across the yard, he wondered if Radford would welcome him back.

o0o

Adam found Faith asleep in one corner of the camel-back sofa in the parlor, her body curled in slumber. She’d tucked her hands beneath her right cheek and used the sofa’s scrolled arm as a pillow of sorts. That she’d been waiting for him was apparent by the smoldering fire in the fireplace and the pot of coffee he spied on the kitchen stove. He was touched, but not surprised by her concern for him. Faith had always been there for him, especially when she knew he was hurting.

He didn’t want to wake her, but it would be unkind to slip upstairs to bed and leave her sleeping uncomfortably on the sofa.

The smell of coffee, albeit long past fresh, was inviting, so he poured himself a cup of the steamy brew and went to sit in a wingback chair. Scout wandered into the parlor, blinking sleep from his old eyes as he climbed onto Adam’s lap.

“Hey, old friend,” Adam whispered, welcoming the hound. With one hand wrapped around the warm mug and the other stroking Scout’s fur, Adam sat quietly, taking a sip of coffee now and then as his mind and body unwound.

Faith’s soft voice cut into his thoughts. “Any change?” she asked, her sleepy voice hopeful.

He shook his head, noting her loose hair and dark eyes. “Not really. Rebecca woke again, but her words are still confused and... well, she doesn’t know me. She doesn’t know any of us.”

Confusion darkened Faith’s brown eyes. “Are you saying she can’t remember names?”

“She can’t remember me. She looked at me as if I were a stranger.” Tears burned behind Adam’s weary eyes. He stared hard at the brown liquid in his cup, willing the stinging moisture away. He couldn’t fall apart. Giving into fear would not help Rebecca. “She doesn’t remember any of us,” he said, settling his aching body deep into the chair.

“Oh, Adam...” Sympathy filled Faith’s voice. Those two words said everything. She was sorry for him, for Rebecca, for her family. She understood that Adam was more scared than he’d ever been in his life. “I should have let your father wait up for you as he’d intended, but I begged him to go to bed an hour ago because he’s working the mill tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of him working around those saws when he’s so fatigued.”

Adam nodded. “It’s all right, Faith. He needs his sleep. So do you.”

She sat upright and smoothed the front of her dress. “Looks like I’m not the only one around here who has missed you.” She nodded at Scout who lounged across Adam’s thighs, his eyes closed as if he planned to sleep there all night.

Adam scratched his beloved beagle behind the ears. “I’ve missed this little mutt more than I care to admit.” He glanced at Faith. “That sentiment extends to the rest of you as well. It’s been hard to be away from home.”

A melancholy smile touched Faith’s lips. “Likewise, Adam. It’s hard to think that we didn’t know the meaning of the word home until we came to Fredonia. I’m ever thankful that’s the one thing I was able to give you and Cora.”

“As am I,” he said. “I’ll never find an adequate way to repay you for that.”

“You owe me nothing, Adam. You were too young to do anything about your circumstances. It was my job to find a better life for us.”

He shook his head because he couldn’t accept that statement anymore. “No, Faith, it was our mother’s job to get us out of that dreadful place. I don’t want to imagine what our lives would have been like if not for your tremendous courage and quick thinking.”

A shudder passed through her and she snuggled her pretty knit shawl more tightly around her slender shoulders. “Well, those fearful days are gone now, and I choose not to think about them. We have a warm, happy home together, and now we help others find a safe and loving home. That is a far better way to engage my thoughts than to let our past haunt me.”

Adam agreed. After finding Leo and Benny, two runaway orphans, hiding in their greenhouse ten years ago, Adam and Faith had found them a loving home—and Adam had found a lifelong friend in Leo. A friend he wished he could talk with right now.

“Did Doc Milton indicate when Rebecca’s memory would return?” Faith asked pulling Adam’s thoughts away from Leo and the busy world of Crane Landing he’d so recently left behind.

“He didn’t say when. He used the word if.” Adam swallowed a warm gulp of coffee to unlock his tight throat. Saying those words made it more real, more terrifying. If Rebecca didn’t get her memory back, what then?

“Is the doctor questioning whether her memory will return?” Faith asked, her disbelief apparent in her drawn eyebrows and intent stare.

“He doesn’t know.” Adam released a weary sigh and set aside his coffee mug. “It might come back all at once, or in bits and pieces, or... not at all.”

“Oh, dear...” Faith pressed her fingers to her lips as if she had no idea what to say to him.

There were no words.

There were no memories.

But there was one faithful beagle on his lap reminding him that their connection could weather long separations and remain strong. So, too, would the love he shared with Rebecca. They could make it through this storm of pain and confusion together.

Chapter Seven

Cleaving pain jolted Rebecca from sleep, hacking into her head like a relentless hatchet. Her vision blurred and she buried her face in her pillow to block the light streaming through the curtains. Her scalp felt stretched taut and thin over her throbbing skull.

Drawing her knees up, she huddled beneath the bedcovers, trying to find a position that would offer some relief from her debilitating headache. But her writhing-moaning-nauseated self, found no comfort until the doctor arrived with his dose of laudanum.

Sleep was her friend and she sought it often, losing track of day and night and her many visitors.

When she slept, no one expected her to respond to their conversations. She didn’t have to speak or search for words that dangled in fragments and were too slippery to piece together. No one waited for her to say “I remember you.” They simply held her hand or cooled her burning cheeks with a damp cloth and let her seek peace in her quiet, dark world.

But images floated through her head like leaves on a slow moving stream, bobbing in and out of view, tempting her to pluck them up for closer inspection. She imagined that she was the river and those images were her memories, but... they meant nothing to her.

She observed the images as a compassionate bystander, her emotions mirroring those expressed in the pictures. Everything remained outside of her as if she were watching a theater performance and knew nothing about the performers.

The pain, however, lurked inside, fiercely alive and mercilessly demanding.

She welcomed the doctor’s tinctures and slept.

And slept.

When they woke her, she would accommodate their request to sip some water or take the doctor’s tonic. Then she would close her eyes and slip back into her safe, dark place.

The man—Adam—with the strong, comforting hands refused to let her linger there. His voice, gentle but firm, challenged her to sit up and talk with him, to remember him, to remember them.

She didn’t remember.

She didn’t want to talk.

She wanted to lie there and enjoy the gentle stroke of his fingers over her warm cheeks and her aching neck. Because with her eyes closed she felt connected to him and not so alone... not so afraid.

“I fear the doctor may be dosing her a bit heavily,” the older woman said.

Her grandmother. The woman was her grandmother. Rebecca remembered that. Or rather she had learned that.

“Perhaps,” Adam said, “but I suspect she needs a respite from the pain she’s in.”

The woman’s hand pressed gently against Rebecca’s forehead. “Are you awake, sweetheart?”

Rebecca kept her eyes closed, preferring to hide from the world of strangers surrounding her.

“Rebecca Jean, open your eyes this instant,” her grandmother said firmly.

Without a second’s hesitation, Rebecca obeyed.

“Well, then,” her grandmother said, releasing a relieved sigh, “I see you’ve been intentionally avoiding us these past three days. I don’t blame you, sweetheart, but it’s time to get up and face the day before it’s over. Come on,” she said, slipping an arm beneath Rebecca’s shoulders. “Sit up and talk to this handsome young man while I get you some supper. You’re going to start eating and get out of that bed.”

And that was that. For a small woman, her grandmother was quite hardy and efficient. Before Rebecca knew it, she found herself propped in a sitting position with a small glass of water in her scraped hand.

“Sip that until it’s gone,” her grandmother instructed. “I’ll be back shortly.”

A second later, Rebecca was alone with the man who claimed to be her fiancé.

Lifting his eyebrows, he gave her a slanted grin, making him quite charming and approachable. “The longer I know Grandma Grayson, the more I understand how she managed to raise four sons. She apparently got tired of asking long ago and just started giving orders—and woe to those who don’t fall in line.”

Rebecca released her breath, not realizing she’d been holding it. “I’m glad I want to drink this,” she said, glancing down at the water glass in her sore hand.

His warm laugh drew her eyes back to his face. She noticed that when he smiled it was at a slight angle, somewhat boyish and charming. When he laughed, though, he revealed even rows of white teeth and a wide, gorgeous smile. To think that she was engaged to this man stunned her. And terrified her.

She had no reason to doubt that these people were her family, or that she and Adam were engaged as he’d stated, but to her they were all strangers.

“I’d be pleased if you might talk with me a while before your next nap,” he said.

Talk?

“What do you wish to talk about?” she asked, her voice slightly hoarse although her words were ordered and coming with a relative ease that pleased her.

“Anything you like,” he said. “We talk about everything, Rebecca. What’s on your mind?”

Gripping the water glass in her left hand, she pressed her fingers to her right throbbing temple. “Sleep. I can’t think of anything just now. It... it hurts my head.”

“That’s all right,” he said, slipping his warm palm over her clenched knuckles. “We won’t have time to talk much. Your family will finish supper soon and they’ll want to spend time with you. I just wanted to hear your voice for a few minutes before I leave.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I shall take pity on you this evening and tell you a story instead.”

Her grip eased on the glass and she lowered her other hand to her lap. “All right,” she said because it was kinder than asking him to leave.

“It was the month of June, when the morning glories twined high around the fence post and the scent of ripe strawberries filled the air,” he began. “We all celebrated your sixteenth birthday at Grandma Grayson’s house. The two of us were nearly giddy because you were finally old enough to court. I was your first and only suitor, of course. We pledged ourselves to each other at thirteen years old, but that night it was as if we’d met for the first time. My Aunt Dahlia chaperoned our outing a couple days later, which your father wasn’t happy about. Your mother won that debate, probably because she had Grandma Grayson on her side.”

Probably, Rebecca thought, remembering and admiring the woman’s take-charge manner.

“We attended a barn dance at the Caveney’s. Do you remember that?” he asked, hope shining in his brown eyes.

Carefully, she shook her achy head, winced, and then reached up to touch the nubby shaved area around her head wound. The bumpy feel of sutures made her stomach queasy, but she was glad to be rid of the linen that had wrapped her head until this morning.

“Several years ago we helped rebuild their house after a kitchen fire. That’s where we came up with the idea for our Sleigh of Hope run that we do each year during the Christmas holiday. You must remember that,” he said, as if the possibility of her not remembering was ludicrous. “Each year Leo and I both come home for our sleigh run, no matter what,” he said. “The three of us take a turn at managing the sleigh and team while the other two deliver the baskets and pails filled with food and herbal remedies and clothing, even bedding. Our whole family gets involved. Do you recall what we delivered at Mrs. Redburn’s house last year?” he asked, his eyes sparkling as if they were about to head out on that exciting sleigh run right now.

“No, Adam.” Gingerly, she shook her aching head. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”

His smile faded. “You don’t remember what we delivered? Or you don’t remember our annual Sleigh of Hope run?”

“I can’t remember anything,” she said with exasperation. “What happened to me?” Frustration choked her. She studied her scraped hands. “I hurt everywhere. The woman—my... mother—said I fell off my horse.” She met his eyes, feeling an urge to lean into his arms and shelter within them. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Oh, darling...” He captured her free hand in his. “You were bringing me lunch at the mill. Your horse got spooked and you tumbled off backward and hit your head.”

He ran his thumb over her knuckles as if he’d done it hundreds of times. It felt nice yet decidedly awkward, as if she were allowing a stranger the liberty of fondling her hand. Yet he wasn’t a stranger really. They’d known each other for years. Years she didn’t remember. “Did I bring your lunch often?” she asked.

“No,” he said, his dark gaze roving her face. “I was away much of the last six years. You brought lunch to the mill to celebrate with me. I was finally home for good and we were planning to move up our wedding to that evening, but...”

He let the words trail off, and she sat open-mouthed. She’d been told that he was her fiancé, but not that she’d missed their wedding day. To know they were so in love and were going to marry that very evening was... unnerving. She had no memories of this man. She didn’t know him.

He leaned back on the dressing table bench that he’d placed beside her bed. He straddled the seat, his long legs and manly body dwarfing the spindle legged stool. “You initially wanted to get married beneath the oak tree out front. You planned to invite most of the village to attend our nuptials,” he said, grinning and shaking his head. “But when I came home we decided we didn’t want to wait another month to marry. We planned to tell your parents and take our vows that evening.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “We were going to spend the first month of our marriage at Crane Landing.”

Heart pounding, she asked, “What is Crane Landing?”

Again, she could see the disappointment in his eyes. “It’s a beautiful place you’ll love the minute you see it,” he said. “When we marry, I’ll take you there for a few weeks. I know you’ll need some time to heal, Rebecca, but is it still your wish to keep our original wedding date? That’s only three weeks from now.”

Her wish? This man was incredibly handsome and kind, but... she didn’t want to marry anyone. “My only wish is that my head would stop pounding,” she whispered, wanting to sink back into the peaceful darkness where she wouldn’t be ordered about or have to participate in conversations that made her stomach queasy.

“I’m sorry,” he said tenderly. “However unintentional, I’ve been thoughtless. You need rest, not a dozen questions from me. I’ll let you be now, Rebecca.”

Before he could stand, her grandmother bustled into the room with two supper plates in her hands. She ordered Adam and Rebecca to eat while she tidied up the room.

Rebecca picked at their meal of roast venison, pickled beets, and boiled potatoes, while Adam told her about some ship he’d helped build at a place called Crane Landing.

She had nothing to say because her mind was a black void littered with fragments of meaningless images. She couldn’t marry him.

She wouldn’t.

Chapter Eight

“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.

Boyd clapped Adam’s shoulder and gave him a small shake. “You listening to me?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.” Adam stepped back and gave his uncle his full attention.

“Radford and Rebecca are scared and neither of them can think clearly right now,” Boyd said. “You need to lead them through this. Be strong and be solid. For both of them.”

Boyd’s advice made sense, but Adam wasn’t sure how to lead when he felt as lost as the rest of them.

“Ease up now so you don’t injure yourself,” Boyd said. “We don’t need another accident.” With that, he shouldered his hand ax and headed across the yard.

Turning back to the cut lumber, Adam began stacking another pallet of quartersawn oak for the Wyatt Furniture job. He would call on Rebecca this evening—and he wouldn’t be sent away without seeing her.

For the balance of the day he immersed himself in stacking lumber and moving timber, planning what he would say to Rebecca, what he might do to assuage her discomfort with him and their relationship, what he would do if Radford tried to send him away.

Men talked and shouted across the mill. Horses snorted, their harnesses creaking as they worked. Saws and hammers and rattling chains, undercut by the intermittent scream of the circular saw, created a familiar backdrop at the mill, and Adam lost himself in his work. By day’s end, beads of sweat streaked down his forehead and his shirt was drenched, but he was full of purpose and determination as he laid down his hand maul and walked home. He would clean up, eat supper with his family, and then introduce himself to Rebecca Grayson.

o0o

The porch had become a haven for Rebecca, especially during the night when her family slept and she crept through the house, her mind barraged with images and fragments she couldn’t understand. Nightly she was driven from her bed by nauseating headaches. Doc Milton said her sleepless, restless nights were a symptom of her injury and that they would lessen as she healed. But she wasn’t healing.

She was harassed by headaches and tortured by disturbing thoughts and her own inability to remember any part of her life from before her accident.

Nightly, she sought sanctuary on the porch, finding herself there more often than not.

This evening, the scent of lilacs and fresh air and birdsong soothed her nerves and eased her headache. Everyone had returned to work or school, leaving her home alone with her mother and little Emma during the day and in a much calmer state of mind when they returned home at day’s end.

Today had been a repeat of all other days. Awake before dawn, her day was well underway when the others got up. She spent some time in the livery grooming horses while he father managed their customers and the heavy chores like cleaning stalls. Afterward, she took a nap and then helped her mother prepare supper.

Conversation was a bit overwhelming during supper, but there was something endearing about each of her siblings that made Rebecca feel connected to them whether she actually remembered them or not. Will and Joshua were quite the young men, each filled with big dreams that made their father laugh and their mother cringe. Tyler and Hannah listened with one ear trained on the adult conversation and the other on the giggling chatter between Sarah and Emma whose main topic focused on catching frogs and crawfish in the creek that ran through the apple orchard.

Rebecca had nothing to say. She had no memories and no dreams to share.

She had only emptiness and pain, which would have further burdened them.

So she’d said nothing.

The awkwardness and discomfort had driven her to the porch after supper. From the porch, she studied the world around her, hoping she might recognize the massive oak in the yard or the rope swing Emma and Sarah were playing on. Her gaze traveled beyond them to the orchard and low-limbed apple trees. Apparently, she had spent many hours of her life playing there, her parents assured her, but she didn’t remember a minute of it.

The sound of someone climbing the porch steps broke her reverie. The pace was too slow for the girls, who seemed to run wherever they went. She expected to see Tyler, who was a deep thinker and moved through his day with a studious, keen attention that required a slower pace. But it wasn’t Tyler or any of her siblings.

It was Adam.

She started to stand, thinking she would tell him that she was unwell and must retire to her room, but not a word crossed her lips because the truth was she was curious about him.

He reached out and clasped her hand in his warm grip. “Hello. I’m Adam Dearborn. I’m thirteen years old and I’ve never seen a more beautiful girl than you, ReBECca,” he said, his voice breaking in an odd manner. “My voice is changing, my feet are too big, and I don’t feel worthy of even touching your hand.” He grinned. “Thankfully, you have no reservations about befriending a mop-haired, clumsy boy who has nothing to offer you.”

“W-what?” she asked, at a loss.

“Today I hauled firewood for our stove, washed my face, and tried to get out of the house before Faith combed my hair. I pulled on my torn jacket and headed to the gorge, because that’s my favorite place and because I wanted to get out of working the greenhouse. The sheriff was there again, and I didn’t want him to see me and give me another lecture.”

“Adam, I’m not following.” Rebecca shook her head, wondering if her thoughts were scrambling again.

“Your uncle Duke is trying to court my sister, Faith. I don’t like him much because he caught me stealing a brush from Brown and Shepherd’s store.”

“Perhaps it’s my headache,” she said, touching her temple.

A crooked grin tilted his mouth. “I’m thirteen years old and all I can think about is a brown-eyed girl named Rebecca Grayson.”

In that moment she caught on to what he was doing. The idea was so unusual and so... sweet it made her smile. “Oh, my,” she said, pressing her fingers to her lips.

He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze and said, “I’m Adam Dearborn and I’m pleased to MEET you.”

The sound of her own laughter surprised her and seemed to please him.

He stepped back, his gaze softening as he looked at her. Leaning one strong shoulder against the porch pillar, a half-smile lifted his lips. “Welcome to the first day we met.”

That he was reenacting their first meeting as if they were strangers instead of two adults with years of history between them moved her in a way she hadn’t felt since her first moment with Star.

She sat back on the swing and lowered her hands to her lap. “I’m afraid I don’t know what to say other than thank you.”

“Tell me about your day.” He sat in the chair catty-corner to the porch swing she was sitting on. “What was your best moment?”

Surprise made her lift her eyebrows.

“It’s a game I play with my friend Rebecca Grayson,” he said.

“All right,” she said, somewhat hesitantly, but she liked the idea of starting over, of not being expected to remember everything. “I brushed my mare and fed her oats.”

He nodded, his eyes drinking her in. “My favorite moment was hearing you laugh again.”

That simple statement warmed her. Suddenly she was sorry she’d been avoiding him. This man was kind and gentle and had a wonderful sense of humor. And when she stopped trying to remember him she could simply enjoy his presence and his conversation.

“Tell me more about that awkward boy I befriended,” she said. “I’d like to know more about our younger selves.”

And so he leaned back in his chair and began their story. He told her how they explored Canadaway Creek and had private meetings at the willow tree they had claimed as their own. In the summers their families gathered at the creek to swim, and in the winter they gathered in their parlors or above the greenhouse to eat and play parlor games and share special occasions with each other. They skipped stones and climbed trees and went to barn dances and wrote each other letters for years, and never once did they question that they would one day marry.

Rebecca sat entranced, fiddling with the stone in her skirt pocket. She had no idea where she’d gotten the thing, or why she kept it, but there was something special and soothing about it. So she sat and let him tell her a story about children, about them—about her. She was learning about her girlhood and the things she’d loved—and she liked that lighthearted girl. More importantly, she felt a connection with that awkward boy who had first taken her hand at Agatha Brown’s store and had held onto her all these years.

o0o

Although Adam’s visit lifted Rebecca’s spirit, there remained a black void where her memory should be. Mothering four-year-old Emma felt natural, and rocking her little sister to sleep each evening had comforted Rebecca in an inexplicable way. She found that she could talk with her eldest brother, Will, without all the nervous upset she felt while conversing with the rest of her siblings. Perhaps it was because her middle siblings were busy, noisy children and their pace jangled her already unsettled nerves.

It seemed she felt the most relaxed in the livery, and she was grateful to be there now watching their veterinarian, Calvin Uldrich, treat an abscess on the shoulder of one of their bay Morgans.

“Rebecca, I’m in need of a curry comb,” Calvin said, examining Gussie’s shoulder. “Will you fetch one for me?”

“Certainly,” she said, heading into the tack room. They kept the horse care items on wall hooks, along with saddles and harnesses and reins. She took down the curry comb and hurried to Calvin’s side.

When she got there, he stepped back and asked her to brush the area around the abscess. “Just remove that small patch of mud so I can clean the area before I incise the abscess.”

While she sloughed away the mud, she stroked Gussie’s firm neck and gently probed the fluctuant abscess. “What did you do to bring this on, missy?” Speaking over her shoulder, she asked Calvin, “Will you apply a hot poultice to her shoulder first?”

“I will indeed,” he said, sounding as if he was smiling. “Your mother should be here momentarily with a tea kettle of hot water.”

“She’s here now.” Rebecca nodded toward her mother who was entering the livery at that same moment. “I can apply the poultice if you need to prepare your instruments for lancing the abscess,” she said.

“That would be helpful.” He set about cleaning his instruments with the hot water her mother left for them.

Rebecca prepared a hot poultice with efficiency and placed it on the horse’s neck. After several minutes of heating and applying poultices, she stepped back to allow the vet to lance the abscess. Once the pus had been evacuated they cleaned the wound and added a probe to allow the wound to close up slowly enough to heal properly.

Finally finished, Calvin straightened his aging back and smiled at Rebecca. “Seems to me you remember more than you think you do. Nice work today.”

Until Calvin had mentioned her memory, Rebecca hadn’t thought about anything but the task at hand. Working with the veterinarian was so interesting that she’d been completely focused. To discover that she knew so much about the process of incising an abscess intrigued and excited her.

Perhaps she hadn’t lost anything. Perhaps the details and moments of her life were just concealed by a fog that needed time to dissipate. Doc Milton said her memory could return in bits and pieces or in one single moment. What a welcome gift it would be to have even one memory of her life come to light.

Chapter Nine

Sunday morning Rebecca went to church with her family. The curtains of their covered carriage were drawn back to allow the morning sunlight to warm the inside of the carriage. Rebecca held Emma on her lap, as much for her own comfort as to make room beside her for Hannah in the tight confines. Her mother sat opposite her with Sarah and Tyler tucked against her, both of them sleepy and grumpy. Hannah leaned on the window ledge with her chin on her forearms, daydreaming about something that made her lips tilt in a smile. Will and Josh sat outside beside their father, who was driving their rig. Rebecca envied them the freedom to sit in full sun, inhaling the fresh morning air. It made her long to be on her mare, riding across the fields, but Doc Milton forbade her to ride for at least two more weeks.

Her father parked beside a row of other carriages along the west border of Barker Common. From there, they leisurely made their way through a throng of people—all of them friends and neighbors according to her mother—exchanging warm greetings as they headed into church.

Rebecca didn’t recognize one face. Each smile, nod, or greeting directed at her made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know how to respond to such warmth from complete strangers. So she dredged up a smile and returned their nods as she followed her family.

They filled several pews, cousins sitting with cousins and so on until they were one big blended family. In the midst of these people who knew and loved each other so deeply, Rebecca felt alone and lost—until Adam sat beside her.

“Good morning,” he whispered, his white shirt in sharp contrast with his tan face. To think that this tall, handsome man in his perfectly cut, three-piece black suit, and with a derby style hat in his capable hands, was her intended both thrilled and terrified her.

She was attracted to him. Intensely.

He exchanged a brief greeting with her father, who sat on her other side, and then nodded to several others around them.

Adam not only fit in this world, he thrived in it. He appeared to be the kind and decent man her mother and grandmother assured her he was. They had been the best of friends for years, or so everyone, including Adam, had told her. Perhaps she could embrace their friendship and see where it led. She could certainly use a friend right now.

And so she returned his smile and settled in to listen to the morning sermon.

With Adam beside her, however, her thoughts carried her away from the church and into idle musing about their relationship and their past. He said they had grown up together, played together, and attended their first dance together. They had laughed together and wept together. They had kissed... numerous times.

So many intriguing memories... and she had lost all of them.

It made her sad—and angry.

She wanted to remember him and this big family of kind-hearted people, many of whom had come from one confident, amazing woman. Rebecca knew she had a place in this family, but felt like an imposter playing a role.

“I wish I knew what you were thinking right now,” Adam whispered close to her ear.

The feel of his warm breath against her skin startled her. She bit back a gasp and glanced up at him.

“You are miles away,” he whispered so quietly she had to strain to hear him.

The truth was she was right here with him wondering what their kisses had felt like. Her cheeks flushed with heat and she hoped her father wasn’t aware of Adam’s whispered words or her lack of attention. She fixed her gaze to the front of the church as if she were listening to the sermon, but all she could hear was her own pounding heart.

During the service Adam’s solid arm fit snug against her shoulder. Despite the comfortable warmth of his body, she felt trapped between him and her father. She wanted to flee to the open pasture where she could breathe and escape the questioning stares of those around her.

The service felt interminable and she was strung with nerves by the time she filed out of church with her family. They couldn’t escape the crush quickly enough for her comfort. But instead of heading to their carriage, her family lingered in the Common greeting friends, swapping news, and enjoying their Sunday morning visit. Adam was pulled away by a group of men who seemed transfixed by whatever he was telling them.

The crowd swallowed Rebecca. She could easily determine those who were genuinely concerned about her because they clasped her hands, wished her a quick and complete recovery, and were sincere in their desire to help. Those who were merely curious asked about the accident, if she could remember anything at all, if she might remember them, and expressed their pity that she’d lost so much. They surrounded her, patted her back, hugged her, tested her memory, and shook their heads with hopeless expressions as if her life had ended.

Her heart began to pound and all she could think about was bolting away from the pawing and petting and voices that assaulted her ears and made her head ache. If she could reach the carriage, she could slip inside and drop the curtains and remain out of sight until her family was ready to go home. She looked around her, trying to find a way out of the crush, but the Common was filled with people from the three churches skirting the twin parks.

An older, blonde-haired woman, dressed in a high-collared, pleated blouse, a tulip bell skirt of dark green, and a pretty feather bedecked straw hat encircled with a wide ribbon of green satin, put her arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. “Excuse me, ladies, but I simply must steal our Rebecca away from y’all now.”

Another woman of robust stature and brusque voice flanked her other side. “That’s right,” she said. “Tansy and I are holding Rebecca to her promise to come by the greenhouse and try our new herbal tea.” The woman’s eyes sparkled and she gave Rebecca a slight wink. “Don’t argue with your aunt Aster.”

Rebecca was so stunned she couldn’t have argued if she’d wanted to. Who were these women and where were they taking her?

They guided Rebecca through a park full of ladies twirling parasols and men with suit coats unbuttoned, cigars clamped between their teeth, and children giggling and scampering around the huge maple trees that adorned the park. She looked for Adam or her family, feeling an urge to call for help, but they were lost in the sea of people.

Once they were across the park, the taller white-haired woman waved her hand at someone in the crowd behind them. A second later she patted Rebecca’s shoulder that was still tender from her tumble off her horse. “Adam is on his way. He and Tansy will walk you home.”

Confused, Rebecca glanced from one woman to the other. “We apparently know each other, but I’m sorry to say I don’t remember either of you.”

The white-haired lady laughed. “Don’t worry, Rebecca. We aren’t worth remembering.”

“Speak for yourself, you old viper,” the blonde said, the drawl in her voice growing thicker. “I’m Adam’s aunt Tansy. And this old hen is his aunt Aster. Despite her words, she grinned at Aster as if they were old friends who had weathered many storms together. “We couldn’t stand by and watch you be accosted by those well-meaning but nosey ladies who intentionally cut you from the herd like a suckling calf they wanted for their supper.”

The image was so graphic and accurate that Rebecca shuddered.

“What nonsense are you ladies filling Rebecca’s head with now?” Adam asked, stepping into the space that Aster vacated at Rebecca’s side.

“A group of ladies that I shan’t mention by name were seeking fodder for their next quilting bee,” Tansy said. “We plucked Rebecca out of their clutches and brought her here so you can walk us both home.”

As Rebecca looked up, he looked down... and smiled. “Are you in need of rescuing, my lady?” He presented his elbow.

Rebecca willingly slipped her arm through his. She wanted to get out of the park and away from the questions, sympathetic comments, and the noise of too many conversations that were causing her head to pound. Letting Adam take her out of here was the fastest way to escape.

He turned and presented his other elbow to his aunt Tansy. “With two lovely ladies on my arm I shall be the envy of every man in town.”

Aster crowed like the old hen Tansy accused her of being, and said, “The envy and the pity is more probable. Run along you three. I’ll let Rebecca’s parents know you’re walking her home.”

“Thank you, Aunt Aster.” He turned his attention to Rebecca and Tansy. “Shall we stroll down Liberty Street or walk the creek?”

Tansy paused as if thinking it through. “Why, I haven’t dipped my toes in that water since last August. Don’t think I will today, but it would certainly make a pretty walk home.”

Adam lifted his eyebrows and laughed. “Truly, Aunt Tansy, you never cease to surprise me.”

“Which is why it’s your turn to surprise me,” she said. “Adam, make an old woman happy and bring my son home to see his mama.”

“Leo will be home for our wedding,” he said, drawing Rebecca’s arm snug against his hard muscled ribcage. “Surely you can manage to wait another two weeks, Auntie?”

“If I must,” she said, perfecting a little pout that made her seem girlish and cute.

But Rebecca didn’t smile. She was thinking about marrying a stranger. About Adam. About his reaction when she told him she wouldn’t marry him.

Lost in thought, she barely noticed their descent into Canadaway Creek. She would have been perfectly content immersed in birdsong, the burbling sound of the flowing creek, and her own roiling thoughts, but Adam and Tansy chattered like squirrels. They talked about a man named Leo, who was Tansy’s son and Adam’s best friend—and apparently her friend, as well. The stories Adam shared about the fun he and Rebecca and Leo had as children were sweet, but her inability to remember pulled her deeper into her own private hell.

“There’s our willow,” he said to her, pointing to a magnificent, flowing willow tree sitting on the bend of the creek. The umbrella-like, ground-sweeping branches draped over the water and rocky shore, creating a welcoming cavern filled with light and shadows.

Rebecca didn’t know what “our willow” meant, but she longed to step into that sacred space and let it shelter her from the world outside its long, drooping branches. Hiding was cowardly, she knew, but she desperately needed relief from the onslaught of questions and stories and the headache that was plaguing her now.

“Would you like to look inside?” Adam asked, gesturing toward the willow.

“I’d like to live there,” she answered without thinking.

He laughed and hugged her arm to his side. “We thought about it many times.”

“Go have a look,” Tansy said. “I need to give these old bones a rest. I’ll be over there sitting on that lovely flat rock.”

As she picked her way across the loamy soil, Adam escorted Rebecca to the tree. As if pulling back a curtain, he scooped a section of the drooping branches aside and waved her in. “Welcome to our sanctuary,” he said. “We’ve spent uncountable hours here talking, thinking, planning, and dreaming just about anything you can imagine.”

A quiet coolness greeted her and soothed her raw nerves. For the first time since awakening to a world of strangers, Rebecca felt she’d found a place of peace, a sanctuary as Adam had appropriately called it.

“How lovely,” she whispered, stepping into the small circular space beneath the tree. She gazed up into the arched limbs overhead and ran her fingertips over the rugged bark on the tree trunk. “It’s so beautiful and utterly... majestic.”

“This is one of your favorite places,” Adam said from behind her.

Awed, she turned to face him. “I believe that,” she whispered, afraid to disturb the peaceful moment. The scent of damp earth and pine from nearby conifers created a rich fragrance she tried to breathe deep into her soul. “I don’t remember this place, but I believe I came here.”

Adam cupped his palms around her shoulders. “We came here every chance we could steal away. I proposed to you right there.” He pointed to a spot four feet away. “The night before your accident we met here and decided not to wait for our wedding day in June. We love each other deeply, Rebecca, and we didn’t want to wait any longer to be together. I still don’t want to wait. I want to marry you right now and get through this difficult time together.”

Looking up into his brown eyes topped by dark brows and separated by a fine, straight nose, Rebecca could believe that she’d been attracted to Adam and had been eager to wed him. But this man before her, however kind, was a stranger. For her, their past was gone, and along with it her promise to marry him. To allow him to think otherwise was as cruel as the accident that had stolen all of this from her.

She eased from his embrace and took a step back. “I believe you, Adam, about all of this, but I can’t marry you.”

Confusion, disbelief, hurt flooded his eyes as he gazed down at her. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Rebecca.”

“I’m saying that I don’t remember you, Adam. All these things you tell me we’ve done are truly touching, but in my mind they are things that never happened.”

“But they did happen. You and me... we did those things and dreamed those dreams together.” He captured her hands in his own. “We’ve always loved each other. We’ve always planned to marry. You’ll realize all of this when your memory comes back.”

“What if it doesn’t?” She shook her head, feeling sick inside. “You, and everyone around me, are strangers. I’m a stranger to myself. I can’t sleep. Sometimes my thoughts churn like a storm-filled creek and I can’t see the bottom of a single thought. I can’t think clearly. You can’t know how that feels. You can’t know how lost and frightened I feel right now.”

“Then don’t turn away from someone who cares about you, who can help you through this. Let me take you to another doctor,” he said. “There is a wonderful doctor at Crane Landing. I’ve seen him help many people through very difficult injuries. Doc Samuel can help you, Rebecca. I’m sure of it.”

His words intrigued her and gave her hope. “Is this the Crane Landing you mentioned the other day?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s the place we planned to go after our nuptials. We planned to take a holiday there for a few weeks until our furniture arrived for our home here.”

“We have a home?” she asked, feeling guilty and sad that she couldn’t go through with their marriage.

He nodded. “Uncle Kyle owns a small house near his mother-in-law’s home. It has been vacant a few months. You and I are setting up house there. I plan to buy it from him now that I’m back to work the mill. We just ordered our furniture.”

“Oh, Adam...” She sighed and shook her head, heartbroken for both of them. “I’m sorry. You seem like a good man who deserves everything you’ve planned and worked for. I wish I didn’t have to disappoint you, but I must.”

“Rebecca... please just... just wait. Don’t break our engagement. Come to Crane Landing with me and see Doc Samuel. If he can’t help you, then... we’ll talk about things at that time.”

She should end this now. She shouldn’t give him hope when she was unable to promise anything. But she liked Adam, and if he thought this doctor could help her, she was going to Crane Landing. “All right,” she said. “We will wait and see what Doctor Samuel thinks.”

He pulled her to his chest in a desperate sort of hug. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She tensed, and he released her and stepped back. “We’ll need to talk with my father about making the trip.”

Adam nodded. “We should go to Crane Landing soon, Rebecca.”

“I can be ready in the morning.”

A sad smile tilted his lips. “Then I guess you’re going to finally get that train ride I promised you years ago.”

She glanced through the hanging branches and looked down the creek. “We still have to convince my father that this is a good idea.”

“Then we’d better pay a visit to Grandma Grayson.”

o0o

Rebecca sat on the sofa with her father. He seemed eager and excited for her to see the doctor that Adam held in such high esteem, but he wanted to bring the doctor to Fredonia, fearing the trip would be too much for Rebecca.

“Grandma will be with us,” Rebecca argued, casting a look of gratitude to the take-charge woman sitting in a wingback chair in their parlor.

“That’s not the point, sprite. I don’t want to jeopardize your health by having you travel,” he said. “I’ll hire the doctor to come here.”

“What if he won’t come?” her grandmother asked.

“I’ll make the trip worth his while,” Radford said. “Every man has his price.”

“I’m not sure the doctor does,” Adam interjected, clenching his laced fingers together. He sat in a Windsor chair, elbows braced on his thighs, his hands hanging between his knees. “He comes from money and the Cranes pay him well. Money won’t convince him to make a trip he doesn’t want to take.”

“He doesn’t need to come here, Daddy. A visit to Crane Landing will be good for me,” Rebecca argued. She wanted to see this place Adam had told her about—and she wanted to escape being surrounded by well-meaning strangers. She couldn’t bear another episode like she’d experienced outside church. And in all honesty her loving family was just as oppressive and overbearing at times. At least at Crane Landing she would also be a stranger to those folks she met. They wouldn’t expect her to know them, to remember events and moments she couldn’t recall.

She needed to go.

Reaching out, she touched her father’s clenched hand. “Please take me there, Daddy. If this doctor can help me, I want to see him right away.”

He lowered his gaze to where her hand covered the knuckles of his clenched fist. Emotion flooded his expression and he swallowed hard. It was the first time she had returned his affection or willingly touched him. He seemed to be holding back feelings and words he dare not express. Finally, he nodded. “All right,” he said, his misty gaze meeting her own. “We’ll leave on the morning train.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and she gave her father the hug he seemed to need.

He crushed her to him for an instant, kissed the side of her head, then set her away. “You certainly remember how to get your way with me.”

His words made her smile. Perhaps she remembered. Perhaps it was just his loving heart that she couldn’t resist.

Rebecca gave Adam and her grandmother a wobbly smile. “I hope we won’t make a trip for nothing.”

Adam nodded as if he understood her concern and that she may be beyond even the good doctor’s ability to help.

But her grandmother stood to her full height of barely five feet and tsk-tsked at Rebecca’s comment. “Don’t let it be for nothing,” she said. “Come on now, we have to get you packed, and Adam has a telegram to send to that good doctor.”

Chapter Ten

The rocking rhythmic motion of the drawing-room car on the express run of the Boston & Albany Railroad lulled Rebecca into a dreamy state. With her gaze on the lush hills and woodlands outside her window, and one ear taking in the conversation between Adam and her father, she silently enjoyed the passing landscape. Now and then her grandmother would snore softly, causing the three of them to exchange a look and a grin. That Adam and her father loved and respected this woman was apparent, and understandable. She had easily won Rebecca’s admiration.

But it was the other woman across from her that captured Rebecca’s attention. Estimating her to be a few years older than her parents, Rebecca found the woman quite lovely with her properly pinned reddish hair topped with a stylish plumed brown hat. With merry cheekbones and full lips, she was a pretty lady with kind eyes. She traveled alone yet seemed so confident and relaxed, as if she thoroughly enjoyed her travel, that Rebecca couldn’t resist the urge to talk with her.

The lady lifted her face and greeted Rebecca with an open smile. “Are you enjoying the trip?” the woman asked, moving aside a small valise at her feet.

“It’s spectacular.” Rebecca told the woman she was heading to Crane Landing by way of Fredonia.

“I’m traveling to Buffalo to see my sister,” the woman offered. “I haven’t been to see her in nearly a year.”

“Are you afraid to travel alone?” Rebecca asked, pressing one hand to her stomach and imagining how frightening her own journey would be without Adam and her family traveling with her.

The lady smiled. “I’m not alone. My granddaughter is with me.”

Rebecca scanned the area, but saw no child.

“When my husband was alive we took our children to Buffalo four or five times a year. I’m sad to say that I don’t journey as often now that he’s gone.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” Rebecca said, wondering if the lady might be loath to admit she was traveling alone. “I hadn’t meant to be intrusive.”

The lady gave a gentle wave of her hand. “It pleases me that you are interested. What takes you to Crane Landing?”

“I’m visiting a doctor with the hope of regaining my memory.” Rebecca felt an odd connection and liberty with the woman that she hadn’t experienced with anyone else.

Rather than commenting, the woman tilted her head. “You seem to be afraid.”

Rebecca lowered her lashes and nodded because she couldn’t talk past the sudden lump in her throat. That a complete stranger could perceive so much unnerved Rebecca and yet made her feel less alone.

“Have courage child. Hard journeys are often the most rewarding,” the woman said. “Times like these reveal what we are made of and what matters most.”

Rebecca lifted her lashes and found herself looking straight into the lady’s warm gaze. Instead of seeing pity in the woman’s eyes, Rebecca saw certainty. This lady knew great loss and yet her eyes were filled with compassion and contentment.

“Thank you,” Rebecca said. “I’m sure I will think of your wise words often during this journey.”

The woman released a light laugh. “Those are my husband’s words, but his philosophy has served me well. Now tell me about the place called Crane Landing.”

“Well, I... I know very little about it,” Rebecca said, jolted by the sudden change in topic. “My... fiancé has spent the last eighteen months there. He tells me it’s a beautiful town built around a sparkling bay with two meandering rivers that run from mountain top to the ocean. Adam helped build ships there.”

“It sounds lovely,” the woman said. “I should go there one day, I think.”

“Adam says the river walk is quite a sight in the spring when the crabapples and dogwoods are flowering.”

And so went their conversation until the lady reached her stop in Buffalo. She clasped Rebecca’s fingers in her warm hands. “Remember that your journey is ahead of you, not behind you.”

She departed the train, and the big black locomotive departed the station minutes later. Rebecca promptly fell asleep. She woke with her head resting against Adam’s shoulder and her father watching with an odd look in his eyes.

Sitting upright, Rebecca rubbed her aching neck and looked out the window.

“Are you in pain?” her father asked, his concern evident.

She shook her head. “Just surprisingly sleepy.”

“The train rocks me to sleep every time I travel,” he said, his voice a bit sheepish. She could only see his eyes behind his newspaper, but it sounded as if he was smiling. A smile made him seem more approachable, but the tension between her father and Adam was obvious.

Both men seemed uncomfortable, which told Rebecca they weren’t used to the tension—and made her wonder what had happened to cause the obvious rift.

“Are you in need of anything?” Adam asked.

“A nap,” she said.

A soft chuckle rolled up his throat. “You’ve been sleeping since five minutes out of Fredonia. We have a long way to go. May as well get some rest.”

“I haven’t been asleep more than a few minutes,” she said, surprised by his comment.

Adam and her father exchanged a look that suggested she was wrong.

“I sat right there and conversed with the pretty lady in the next seat nearly the whole way to Buffalo.”

Her comment apparently piqued her father’s curiosity because he lowered the newspaper he’d been perusing.

Adam smiled as if he found her comment cute. “I suspect you and the lady conversed in your dream.”

“What are you talking about, Adam? She sat directly across from us until she left our car at Buffalo. Her sister lives there and she is visiting her. I told her about Crane Landing and how you work on the ships,” Rebecca said. “You must have heard our conversation.”

Another look passed between Adam and her father, only this one carried concern.

Her father put down his paper. “You’ve been sleeping and dreaming, sprite.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I heard you two talking about the mill at Crane Landing. I saw the porter query you about some gentleman’s missing valise. You and Adam helped him search our car.”

The stunned expressions on their faces explained their lack of comment.

“Grandmother’s been sleeping since just after we left the station, but I didn’t drift off until after we left the station at Buffalo.”

“Honey, it was a dream,” her father gently insisted. “Perhaps you were just daydreaming, but there was no woman, sprite.”

Rebecca’s breath slid out as she sank back on the seat. The woman and their conversation had been so real. She’d touched the woman’s hand. Was it possible to dream something so vivid and real like?

As if Adam sensed her concern, he slipped his warm palm over her clenched fist and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re tired, love. Why not rest while you can?”

She nodded and turned her face to the window.

The clacking wheels and jolting cars competed with the conversation Adam and her father began about the Crane’s latest shipbuilding practices. Rebecca closed her eyes, wondering what was happening to her.

They changed trains in Boston, and headed to Maine. By the time the train whistle blew, heralding their final stop, Rebecca was beyond eager to get off the train.

Located at the southern end of the state of Maine, Crane Landing welcomed Rebecca with a dazzling display of sun-drenched boardwalks, verdant green trees and a vast blue sky.

From the red and white train depot, Adam directed Rebecca’s gaze down Main Street where she could see all the way to the bay and the ocean beyond. Businesses lined both sides of the bricked street, making her want to take a long leisurely stroll along the boardwalks and clear her mind.

“Main Street ends at Bay Street,” Adam said, pointing toward the water sparkling in the distance. “Bay Street follows the bay and connects with River Road, which climbs right up the mountain alongside the Crane River. I hope we can stay long enough for you to see it,” he said, casting a speculative look at her.

Rebecca’s breath slipped out on a sigh of appreciation. “I hope so, too. What a lovely place.”

“Is that a lighthouse, Adam?” his grandmother asked, pointing to a tall spire far off in the distance.

“Yes,” he said. “Ships can see it from several miles out, I’m told.”

“Have you been out on the ships yet?” her father asked Adam.

“Only on a schooner, sir, but I hope to one day experience a launch from the deck of a Crane & Grayson ship.”

Her father eyed the town. “Each time I come here I’m amazed at this thriving community,” he said. “I’ll show you ladies more of it tomorrow.”

“That would be wonderful,” Rebecca said, excitement thrumming in her veins. Knowing this was all new to her grandmother as well, and that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t know the place, lightened Rebecca’s mood. She was here to see Doc Samuel, but she would enjoy exploring the locale with Adam and her family.

Although the inn was located just down the street, Adam hired a hack to take their bags to the Beacon Inn while they stretched their legs and took in the ocean scented air of Maine.

When they reached the Inn, Rebecca and her grandmother were taken to a suite with high arched windows overlooking Main Street. Light blue tapestries the color of the ocean draped the windows. Bright floral quilts covered their beds and were topped by thick feather pillows. A massive gas fireplace bracketed by two carved rosewood parlor chairs with mahogany end tables decorated a small parlor off their sleeping quarters. A large water closet with a deep cast iron tub and plenty of thick linens made Rebecca want to soak her aching body, sleep for ten hours, and spend the next day exploring the beauty of Crane Landing.

But she only had time to freshen up before her father called at their door to escort them to supper in the main dining hall where they were to meet Adam.

o0o

Agitated by his inability to have a private word with Rebecca, Adam struggled to stay abreast of their supper conversation. He excused his silence by claiming he’d talked himself out on the train. The truth was that he didn’t care about the luscious flavor of the game hen nor the restaurant décor that so impressed the others. He ate because his body needed nourishment, not because he was enjoying his meal. He didn’t want to eat the food or talk about it. Nothing mattered to him at the moment but his relationship with Rebecca.

She didn’t want to marry him.

The thought alone turned everything in his stomach liquid.

How could she not know him? After all the hours and dreams and special moments they’d shared, how could she not know him?

Her accident had been bad. He knew that. But had it happened to him, he would still know her. No matter what transpired, as long as he was breathing he would know Rebecca. She was as much a part of him as his own hands.

That she didn’t know anyone else, including her own family, was no consolation. It just made him feel worse. If only he could wind back the clock to the evening they met beneath the willow. He would persuade her not to bring him lunch, to stay home where she’d be safe and whole and remain his beautiful, loving Rebecca.

She wasn’t his Rebecca any longer. Their conversations that used to flow like a river were now as stagnant as a still pond. And that business about conversing with a lady on the train was downright odd—and deeply concerning if she thought it real rather than a dream.

“Adam.” Rebecca jiggled his hand where it rested beside his plate, fork forgotten in his fingers.

Shaken from his reverie, he glanced at her, as surprised by her touch as by how far away his mind had carried him. She hadn’t touched him since before her accident three weeks earlier.

“Would it be possible to tour the shipyard tomorrow?” she asked, looking closely at him as if trying to determine what plagued him.

“Certainly,” he said, consciously dragging his thoughts back to the meal and present company. He shifted his attention to Radford. “I thought perhaps you would need to stop by the mill in the morning. If Rebecca joins us, we can see the whole shipyard and then go directly to Doc Samuel’s afterward.”

“I do need to stop by the yard, but I’m not sure it would be good for Rebecca,” Radford said, casting a worried glance at his daughter, as if questioning her health.

“Well, I should like to go along,” her grandmother chimed in. “I’m eager to see these great ships you talk about, Adam.”

Even when he didn’t feel like talking, Adam discovered he could still talk about ships. There was so much to say that he wasn’t sure where to begin, but within minutes he was lost in describing the amazing strength of her keel beam and shape of her ribs, how her tall, regal masts would cut the clouds as she plowed the oceans.

Dreamy-eyed, Rebecca hung on his every word as if she were aboard that magnificent vessel racing across the vast blue ocean. Her expression was so like the old Rebecca, like the woman who knew and loved him, that Adam clutched her hand.

“Rebecca?” he asked hesitantly, hardly daring to hope that her memory and the real Rebecca had returned.

“Yes?” Her eyebrows quirked and her fingers closed into a fist beneath his grasp.

Disappointment rushed in like a hard tide stirring up his pain and regret like silt on the ocean shore. “I... I want to make sure you’re well enough to come along tomorrow. The shipyard is quite expansive and will require a lot of walking.”

“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.

Chapter Eleven

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-full 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.

Doc Samuel shrugged. “Can’t say. You and Dawson are the only two folks who have seen any such woman—and you have each sustained a significant head injury.”

Rebecca’s jaw dropped. “Are you suggesting we see things that are not real?”

“I’m suggesting that it is a queer coincidence.”

“Doctor, the woman was real. I can still see her bare feet splashing through the water. Her hair was a long blaze of red flowing down her back. I’ve never seen anyone so... so magnificent.” She faced the doctor with certainty. “I saw her with my eyes not my imagination.”

“All right then, let it rest for now and I’ll see if we can help you sleep better at night.”

“Adam told you about that, too?” she asked, her irritation ratcheting up a notch.

“Your father did. There are many people who love you and want to help you get better.”

“So it appears,” she said.

While her father and grandmother were sitting on the porch where Doc Samuel had asked them to wait, the doctor continued his exam. He asked about her headaches, how often did she have them and when did they tend to occur. Did they nauseate her or cause any doubled or blurred vision?

“How long do the headaches last?” he asked.

She shrugged. “An hour or so up to a day or two.”

“Do you ever feel dizzy or off balance?”

“Sometimes.”

“When?”

“When I first get up or if I stand too quickly.”

“Stick out your tongue.” Nodding and talking to himself, he put her through a series of tests to check her speech and balance and vision. “What year is it?”

“Pardon?”

“What year is it?”

“It’s 1890, of course.”

“Who is the president of the United States?”

“Benjamin Harrison as you well know,” she said, growing irritated with his endless examination and ridiculous questions. “I cease to see how these questions are of any relevance.”

Chuckling, the doctor stepped back, giving Rebecca the space she needed. “My dear, you’ve sustained a nasty head injury that very nearly killed you. I’m testing your recall and mental abilities. You’re fortunate in that you seem to have retained your level of intelligence and that you know where and when you are in relation to the rest of the world. Do you remember the accident?”

She shook her head.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

“They tell me I fell off my horse at the sawmill. Adam said—”

“I don’t want to know what you’ve been told,” he interrupted. “I want to know what you remember. Did you remember hearing anything?”

She shook her head again, weary of the questions she couldn’t answer.

“Close your eyes,” he said gently. “Take a few slow breaths and try to imagine riding your horse into the sawmill. Do you smell anything?”

With her eyes closed, Rebecca drew in breath after calming breath.

“Don’t try to think about the accident,” he said quietly. “Just feel yourself riding into the yard at the mill—”

“I smell pine,” she whispered.

“Is that a memory or a fact you’re recalling?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her eyes still closed. “But I smell fresh cut wood and I... I feel very, very happy.”

“What has made you so happy?” he asked, his voice soothing and hypnotic.

She moved her head slightly to indicate that she couldn’t remember. “I feel stirrups beneath my riding boots and... and Star... I remember her smell and the sleek bristly feel of her mane,” she said, her voice dreamy as she floated in the moment with her beloved horse.

“Why were you at the mill?” he asked.

“Because... because I was happy...” And she had been. She felt it deep inside as if she’d clutched that moment to her breast to protect it from the fall that had stolen her life.

“Why were you happy, Rebecca?”

“I don’t know.” She opened her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t remember.”

He patted her shoulder. “It’s all right. You remember smells and the feel of stirrups beneath your boots and a sense of being happy. That’s a lot more than you thought you remembered, isn’t it?” At her nod, he continued. “The smell of freshly ground coffee still reminds me of my father enjoying a steaming cupful before he went off to work each morning when I was a boy. Smells, sounds and our other senses often convey us back to our past. I suspect if you experience more with your senses than your mind, you may remember more and worry less.”

The idea excited her and gave her hope.

“Now we need to settle your nerves and help you start sleeping at night. What seems to be the cause of your unrest?” he asked.

His question deflated her. “I’m having odd... dreams,” she said, because she didn’t want to admit that she was wide awake when the most bizarre thoughts tormented her.

“Tell me about them. Are they the cause of your sleepless nights?”

They were the cause of unending worry, but she simply released a sigh and rubbed her temple to ease the dull, ever-present ache. “Sometimes a headache will wake me, some nights it’s a dream or a noise. Mostly, it’s the sense that I’m being suffocated. I feel lost and frightened and I can’t slow my breathing or catch my breath. I just need to get out of bed and find my safe spot on the porch.” She lifted her eyes to the doctor. “I never feel settled. There are so many people around me that I can’t... I can’t breathe. I just wish...” She shook her head, unable to voice her thought for fear of hurting her family.

“You wish what?”

What she wanted was too shocking and selfish to speak aloud.

The doctor placed a calming hand upon her shoulder. “Rebecca, I’m here to help. What is it you wish?”

His soothing voice assured her, encouraged her to confess. “I wish I could stay here,” she said. “In Crane Landing.”

One gray eyebrow lifted above the top of his spectacles as his shrewd blue eyes assessed her.

“No one knows me here. I’m not surrounded by family or by folks in town who have known me all my life. I can’t remember one of them and it... it’s terribly distressing to live among strangers who know me so intimately. I don’t want to go home until I get my memory back,” she said. “I will get it back, won’t I?”

A sympathetic smile slowly lifted his lips as he studied her. “Head injuries are tricky, Rebecca. They can take a long time to heal. I’ll need to observe you for at least a couple of months to better assess your condition.”

“Two months?” She sank back on the stool. “My father can’t even stay a week, Dr. Samuel.”

“I suspected as much,” he said. “But perhaps you and your grandmother can?”

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but suddenly understood that the doctor was providing an acceptable excuse for her to escape her family for a while without hurting their feelings. “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I would be happy to remain in Crane Landing for a while. Especially if you think you can help me get my memory back.”

“I’ll do everything I can to help you,” he said.

She nodded, understanding that he couldn’t promise her anything. “I may need your assistance persuading my father.”

The doctor flapped a hand to dismiss her comment. “Your father is a smart man. He won’t question anything that may help improve your health. I strongly believe that taking some time here at Crane Landing will be a good course of action for you, Rebecca. You need a place that will quiet your nerves and help you heal.”

She agreed wholeheartedly. “I feel more relaxed already.”

“Good. Now let me take another look at your head. Perhaps we can ease those headaches some.”

Chapter Twelve

Adam strolled down the cobbled drive and headed to The Beacon Inn after a short visit with Elias Crane. He was glad to be staying on at Crane Landing with Rebecca and their grandmother, but he was deeply discouraged that Doc Samuel couldn’t determine if Rebecca’s memory would return. All Adam could hope for was better news when Rebecca visited the doctor again next week.

Meanwhile, he would make her stay here as comfortable as possible and do his best to help her remember her life—and their love.

Radford had readily agreed to her staying on at Crane Landing under the care of the good doctor and her grandmother—with Adam’s protection. Radford’s small nod to the caliber of Adam’s character left Adam feeling more sad than grateful. Rebecca wasn’t the only one to lose something of value because of her accident.

Radford had also set up accounts for Rebecca and his mother with the local merchants. The ladies were only too happy for the chance to explore the town and the scenery of the bay and the ocean beyond. So Adam had suggested to Radford that the women might be more comfortable in a small house of their own, especially considering the duration of their stay. Upon Radford’s agreement, Adam had gone to see Elias Crane.

After their meeting, it took ten minutes for Adam to reach the inn where he joined Radford and Rebecca and their grandmother on the wide porch for a refreshing glass of mint tea.

Taking a seat across from Radford, Adam said, “I secured the house. We can move them in immediately.”

“Excellent,” Radford replied. To Rebecca, he said, “Adam has found a suitable house for you and mother to occupy while you’re under Doctor Samuel’s care.”

“A house?” she asked. “I thought we would remain at the inn.”

“You can stay here if you choose,” Radford said, “but a house will be more private and I suspect a good bit quieter.”

“It’s a lovely home,” Adam interjected. He wanted her to stay in the house because he knew she would love the cozy rooms and the view of the river and the bay. He needed her to stay there because the privacy would allow him to spend more time with her than he could at the inn. He needed that extra time. He had a few short weeks to jog her memory and rescue their love before returning her home to her family. So he lobbied hard. “It’s a small house right on the river that will make a wonderful home while you’re here.”

She hesitated as if undecided. “What shall we do, Grandma?”

“We shall go take a look,” her grandmother said. “The house sounds lovely.”

“We’ve been invited to dinner with the Crane family this evening,” Adam said to Radford. “I took the liberty of accepting as I thought you should like to see Elias again. We could visit the house at that time as it’s just a few minutes past the Crane residence.”

“Thank you, Adam. I would indeed like to see Elias.” Radford got to his feet. “Why don’t you ladies freshen up and then we’ll go see about this house before our dinner engagement.”

Within the hour the four of them were dressed for supper.

“Shall I hire a carriage?” Adam asked, as they gathered on the Inn’s wonderfully deep porch. “I enjoy the walk, but I’m not certain if the ladies prefer to travel by carriage.”

“No, please!” Rebecca stated emphatically. “I should hate to be closed up in a carriage on such a fine day. May we walk?”

Radford glanced at his mother for her response. “What’s your pleasure, Mother?”

“By all means, let’s enjoy the day. Walking will give me a perfect opportunity to snoop in the windows of the mercantile and these other wonderful establishments.”

And snoop she did!

Rebecca and their grandmother paused at more than a few of the business establishments to gaze into the windows that were chock-full of merchandise. They priced handbags and bloomers and ribbons and bows. They oohed over bathing slippers made of white canvas and trimmed with red braiding. They marveled at the bolts of taffeta, chiffon, and silk on display, not to mention the ready-made dresses available. A sign in the milliner’s shop boasted that dressmaker Sadie Gill had just returned from New York where she had studied the latest fashions. Another sign invited all to the dance at the Grange Hall preceding the Independence Day fireworks still several weeks away. There were spices galore in the next window display, along with exotic teas and tinctures. It seemed that whatever the world had to offer could be found in the shops here, and all of it seemed to delight Rebecca.

Seeing the joy in her expression lifted Adam’s spirit.

He had walked Bay Street so often in the months he’d lived at Crane Landing, he could travel it with his eyes closed. Curving and winding gently, Bay Street hugged the inlet and horseshoe shaped bay. Bay Street became River Road where the river met the bay—and that’s where the Crane mansion sat. Further up River Road just before the first significant rise sat the white two-story house. Big leafy maple trees shaded the front yard and wide-columned veranda.

The Crane family had relatives in last summer and that’s when Adam had first seen the house. He knew what he would find inside, so he was able to watch and enjoy Rebecca’s exclamations of pleasure as she inspected the home. They entered through a small wood paneled foyer and found themselves in a cozy parlor wallpapered in a garden pattern with fussy meadow flowers of yellow and blue.

“It will be as if we’re sitting in a peaceful garden,” Rebecca said, trailing her fingertips across the textured walls.

Her pleasure was so obvious that Adam couldn’t wait for her to see the back porch.

She made her way to the kitchen, admiring the small maple table, exploring the cupboards that were stocked with dishes, and drawers filled with utensils.

“Grandma, everything one could need is already here.” Rebecca took an apron off a hook beside the sink, shook it open, and tied it around her slim waist. “What shall I prepare for supper?” she asked, a smile on her face that stopped Adam’s aching heart from beating.

To see a hint of her former self shining through the shadow of her injury gave Adam hope that she might yet find her way back to him.

“A cup of tea to sip while sitting on that lovely porch would suit just fine,” Grandma said, gazing out the window above the kitchen sink.

Surprise lit Rebecca’s eyes and she turned to peek out the window. “Oh!” She whipped off the apron and laid it on the counter. Without a word she headed straight to the door and stepped outside. “Oh... my...” Adam heard her say.

He grinned. He knew the back porch would be her favorite place.

“Grandma... you must come out here,” she said.

They all joined her there, each of them taking in the breathtaking view of the river. From high up the mountain the Crane River cut a winding path down through thick green forests where it emptied into the bay just beyond the Crane mansion. And just outside the door to this little house, crystal clear water tumbled over river rocks, creating a song that calmed the spirit.

“Oh, Adam...” Rebecca turned to him, the look on her face telling him she needed this place. “It’s so beautiful and... peaceful here.” Her gaze swept across the river banks and surrounding woodland, returning to him with warmth radiating from her eyes. “Thank you.”

He was glad he could give her this respite, however brief. And he knew it would be the perfect place for them to fall in love again.

“I could sit here all day,” Grandma said.

Standing beside her, Radford nodded. “I could, too, Mother, but I’m afraid I would sleep most of the day.”

A smile tilted Rebecca’s lips. “I could stay here forever.”

Her father put his arm around her and gave her a light squeeze, as if he was afraid too much affection would scare her off. “You’ll have several weeks to enjoy it, sprite.”

If Adam read Rebecca’s expression correctly it wouldn’t be nearly enough time for her.

o0o

A warm smile tilted Georgia Crane’s lips as she welcomed Rebecca and her family to their gorgeous estate. She and Mr. Crane greeted Adam as if he were their own son home for a visit.

“Has Adam told you how we shamelessly lobbied for the two of you to settle here after you marry?” Georgia asked thirty minutes later as they began a multicourse dinner that made Rebecca’s eyes round in amazement.

The thought of spending her days in the ocean-side town gave her an odd thrill. “I can’t recall if he mentioned it, but the idea certainly has merit,” she said, skirting the issue of their engagement and her memory loss as gracefully as possible.

Adam cast a sideways glance at Mrs. Crane. “I’m afraid we’ve not had time to discuss it, but we certainly plan to enjoy our stay.”

“I hope you will let us help make your stay memorable,” Mary, the Crane’s eldest, raven-haired, blue-eyed daughter, replied warmly. “I’m eager to hear about your life on the shores of Lake Erie.” Her gaze encompassed all of Rebecca’s family, but ended with Rebecca. “We have much to share with each other. In the morning Mama is sending the staff over to clean Cecily cottage. It’s not a cottage, of course, but that’s how we refer to the house you’ll be staying in. After you settle in we simply must meet for tea.”

“I’d be honored,” Rebecca said. “I deeply appreciate everything you are all doing to make us welcome and comfortable during our stay.” She directed her reply to the Crane family, but she had felt the immediate friendship between herself and Mary Crane the instant she was welcomed into their stunning home. Adam had told her briefly before their visit that Mary was their age and a widow. The Cranes had lost two infants between Mary and Micah, who was seven years younger and seated across the table from Rebecca.

“Yes, thank you ever so much,” her grandmother added. “It’s been many a year since I’ve traveled beyond Fredonia, and I couldn’t imagine a more wonderful place to stay or more delightful people to spend my time with.”

And so the conversation was warm and friendships began during course after course of mouthwatering dishes served up by liveried footmen.

Rebecca had never experienced such a meal and she had to remind herself not to gape at the heaping platters of roasted water-fowl and baked cod and haddock and many other dishes that smelled divine.

Mary set aside her fork, after eating lightly of the delicious courses. “Did you know that the house you’ll be staying in was built for a princess?”

“No,” Rebecca said, glancing at her grandmother to see if she had perhaps missed part of a conversation.

“A legend about a princess sounds fascinating,” Grandma said, leaning in for more information.

“The legend began with Daddy’s ancestors,” Mary said. She turned to her father. “You convey the story better than any of us, Daddy.”

“He does,” Micah said, those being the second two words he’d uttered all evening. The first two were “thank you” to Adam. For what, Rebecca had no idea, but she supposed it was man stuff and involved their work because Adam had looked uncomfortable with Micah’s comment.

The patriarch of the family set aside his glass of wine, seeming only too happy to step into the role of storyteller. “Nearly two hundred years ago the village Enlightsia, camped on the western border of the Adriatic Sea, came under attack. With ranges of ore-rich mountains in her far east, and crystal clear streams cutting through her lush woodlands and nourishing the farmlands of her interior, Enlightsia was a land of plenty and prosperity. Her greatest citizens were ‘philosophes,’ or intellectuals who called for the betterment of mankind. They welcomed visitors and encouraged trade with all... but it was this openness that led to their destruction.

Rebecca leaned forward feeling as eager as her grandmother appeared.

“The more the great minds of Enlightsia questioned values and truths long held to be doctrine, the more Enlightsia and her people became a threat to the dominant powers,” Elias continued. “By 1792 turbulence churned within the heart of the duchy. The royal family became endangered by a growing group of loyalists to a neighboring country encroaching on Enlightsia. The danger was so great that the duke summoned the most revered ship captain of the day to whisk his daughter and son from harm’s way and secret them and the duchy treasure in America. That captain was Gabriel Crane, and his charges were Princess Cecily and Prince Ian.”

“They came to America?” Rebecca asked, entranced.

Mary nodded, her expression distraught. “They fled under the cover of darkness with barely a moment to bid their father goodbye. Gabriel transported the princess and young prince aboard the Freedom...”

“Oh, my,” murmured Rebecca, caught up in the saga of the young royals. “I can only imagine how they must have felt leaving their father behind and fleeing their homeland. Were they ever able to return to Enlightsia? Were they happy in America? What treasures were they protecting for their people?”

Elias let out a pleased laugh at her many questions and at her keen interest in his story. “ Much of their tale and what they endured is lost to the mists of time. I am simply sharing the legend, Miss Grayson. I only know that the treasures traveled with them from the heart of Enlightsia are of great value. A journal had been handed down from duchess to princess for more than a century until it rested in Cecily’s hands wherein she recorded her life and knowledge. The book supposedly contains the words and wisdom of her mother, grandmother, and so on. Its binding is worth a great fortune, embedded as it was with precious gems and edged in gold... but it was the knowledge within its pages that mattered so much to the people of Enlightsia. The mirror is crafted of rare wood, hand cut gems and a ribbon of pure silver that connects them. Those are the only treasures we know of.”

Rebecca’s breath caught at Elias’s description of the mirror. “It sounds enchanting,” she whispered. “But what a sad story. The princess must have desperately mourned her lost past,” Rebecca said, understanding Cecily’s loss in the deepest part of her being.

Mary nodded in agreement. “Every time I hear the story my heart aches for Princess Cecily. The poor woman had to pose as a widow with a young son. The crew immediately fell in love with her and the boy, and each man vowed to protect her and young Ian with his life. But no one was more smitten than Gabe Crane.”

Rebecca sighed and her heart grew lighter knowing the princess would have found a confidant and love in Gabe Crane.

Releasing a light laugh, Georgia Crane patted Rebecca’s hand. “I see you’re a romantic as well. I adore this story and never tire of hearing it.”

She was a romantic? Had something in her expression suggested such? The idea intrigued Rebecca. With every experience she was learning something new about herself.

o0o

Adam watched as Rebecca absorbed the tale. Doubtless she could relate to how the young princess must have felt in a foreign land. Since the accident, everything must feel foreign and strange to Rebecca.

“Did she ever return home?” Rebecca asked.

Elias leaned forward. “No one knows, . But in the pages of her journal she apparently mentioned that her mirror and the truths in her diary helped keep her family close and that Gabe’s love gave her the courage to build a new life here in America.”

“What were the truths?” Rebecca asked, looking so enthralled she apparently didn’t realize that her question might be intrusive.

Elias chuckled. “Supposedly nuggets of truth about life passed down through generations that helped the princess cope with her loss.”

“I would read that book cover to cover,” Rebecca said, her voice so dreamy it made Adam smile.

“As would I,” Mary said in agreement, “but the journal has been missing for many years now.”

Rebecca’s expression shifted as though she had lost something precious. “That’s a shame, especially knowing that the journal helped the princess to forge a new path in her life.”

Mary, now fully engaged in conversing with Rebecca, sat forward with her fingers laced and propped on the table in front of her. “I think Gabe Crane found a way to whisk her back long enough to see her father before he died.”

Elias flapped his hand. “Stuff and nonsense. Gabe wouldn’t have risked her life for a journey such as that.”

“No, but the princess might have done so,” Mary argued sweetly. “According to the legend, that man would have moved a mountain for the princess.”

Elias shrugged his shoulders. “All we know is that she and Gabe eventually married. The home in which you will be staying was built for her by Gabriel, or at least portions of it. Fire destroyed some of the original structure, but our family has tended it with care throughout the years. I believe you ladies will be quite comfortable there.”

Adam glanced around the table, secretly pleased by Rebecca’s and their grandmother’s rapt expressions. Even Radford seemed to be engaged.

“I felt at home there from the moment I entered,” Rebecca said. “I’m eagerly anticipating spending two whole months in that lovely home, and I deeply appreciate your generosity and invitation to stay there.”

Georgia Crane smiled and patted Rebecca’s hand, her gesture warm and motherly. “It’s a pleasure to share it with you, my dear. I hope you find as much healing and happiness there as Princess Cecily found.”

Chapter Thirteen

After a lovely breakfast of rice with fig sauce and toasted wafers, Rebecca and her grandmother went with her father to the shipyard. He was concerned that the noise may upset her, but Rebecca felt quite well and assured him that she was prepared for the din and commotion.

Adam met them in the bustling yard, looking quite handsome with his hair windblown and his shirtsleeves rolled up his forearms. That he’d been hard at work was apparent in the slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead.

Rebecca couldn’t remember him from her past, but she could certainly understand her attraction to this man because it was still in full force.

“Good morning,” he said, directing the greeting to all of them, but his eyes were on her. “Are you well enough for a tour?”

His concern warmed her and brought a smile to her lips. “I’m quite well, and very eager to learn all about building ships.”

He grinned. “That might take more than one tour, but let’s start inside,” he said, offering his arm.

Surprised, she glanced at her father, but he was preoccupied with whatever was transpiring near the dock. “All right,” she said, welcoming his escort. “What has captured my father’s attention?”

“The new building we are raising to accommodate our new shipbuilding process. Once it’s finished we will house our materials and tools there, which will be more accessible to our job site where we build our ships. Your father is keen to see the new operation.” Speaking over his shoulder to her father, Adam asked, “Would you like to join us inside, Radford?”

“You three go ahead,” her father said. “I see Ben Oakley just yonder and I need to have a word with him.”

With a nod, Adam escorted Rebecca and their grandmother to a huge, cavernous building that towered overhead and appeared to be built on pylons right over a deep channel of water. “We build our merchant vessels, schooners, dories, skiffs, sloops and other small wooden vessels right here on the shore or in this facility, which is determined by their size.”

“Does the water run straight through the building?” Rebecca asked.

“No, it ends a ways inside the building. You’ll see why when I show you how we build our vessels.”

Inside, Adam paused to let their eyes adjust to the shadowed interior lit by rows of overhead lighting. The staccato sound of mallets striking wood echoed through the massive structure. Men talked or called to each other, their conversations and commands competing with rhythmic sanding and scraping sounds that were likely creating the haze and the powdery taste of wood in the air.

“We launch our vessels straight out through this channel,” Adam said, “but I’ll tell you more about that later. We’ll start down at the far end. Stay with me and mind your step. There’s a good amount of scattered debris by this time of the morning.”

“It smells divine in here,” their grandmother said, taking in the scope of the vast facility. “Hal would have loved this place.”

“Now there’s a man I wish I’d met,” Adam said, moving ahead to lead the way. “It would have been an honor to know such a great man.” He moved right two steps. “It will be safer for you ladies to follow behind me.”

“Hal would have loved you, Adam,” their grandmother said. She captured Rebecca’s arm and they trailed close behind him. “You’re so much like our own boys it’s like seeing them as young men again. That seems so long ago, I feel positively ancient.”

“I doubt your sons would take kindly to being referred to as old men already.”

Their grandmother whacked Adam’s shoulder with her sunshade. “Don’t you twist my words, young man.”

The sound of Adam’s laughter fell nicely on Rebecca’s ears.

“I’m deeply honored by the comparison, Grandmother. And you are still many years away from being ancient.”

“Oh, how you young’uns love to tease. Makes me miss my boys at that age.”

They walked for several minutes, mostly silent because of the surrounding noise, until they reached the opposite end of the building. As Rebecca’s vision adapted to the interior light, she looked around the cavernous building with her mouth hanging open. In the middle sat what looked like the skeleton of a gigantic whale. “Is that a ship?” she asked, truly astonished at the size.

Adam paused and glanced back at her. “That’s a three-mast schooner. We build other vessels and ships far larger than this outside. Come on,” he said, catching her hand and guiding her closer to the front corner. “We’ll start over here.”

Once she and her grandmother were standing beside him, he spoke above the noise, his voice assured and his knowledge deep.

“This is where we store most of our supplies.”

He pointed out barrels of pitch and oakum for caulking. Bins of nails, cables of rope, and crocks of linseed oil formed towering stacks.

Rebecca felt a little dizzy as her eyes scaled the stacks of supplies.

“Ho there!” a man called, approaching them with a slight limp. He stopped just outside the circle of their little group. He was a somewhat handsome man approximately her grandmother’s age with graying hair that poked from beneath a dusty cap. He didn’t smile, but his expression seemed warm and inviting. “Beg your pardon, ladies. May I borrow this young man for a minute? I’m in need of a strong back.”

“Then Adam is your man,” Grandma said, patting Adam’s shoulder and wearing the proud grandmother look Rebecca was beginning to recognize.

A smile blossomed on the man’s face and he pulled off his cap. “Dawson Crane at your service, my lady.”

Surprised by his gallant introduction, Rebecca watched her grandmother’s face flush as Adam stepped in to introduce everyone. “Dawson, this is my grandmother, Nancy Grayson, and my intended, Miss Rebecca Grayson.” To Rebecca he said, “Dawson is the elder brother of Elias and Ezra Crane.”

Dawson executed a half bow. “I’m honored to meet you ladies.”

“Likewise,” Rebecca said, casting a sideways glance at her grandmother to see why she wasn’t offering the man a proper greeting.

Grandma, who was always in charge, seemed to have forgotten how to speak. To Rebecca’s surprise, Grandma bobbed her head in a slight greeting that made Dawson’s eyes sparkle.

“What did you need help with?” Adam asked, turning Dawson’s attention back to the task at hand.

“Need to load a barrel of pitch onto the dolly,” he said.

An odd look crossed Adam’s face, but he gave Dawson a nod. Cautioning Rebecca and their grandmother to stay put for safety’s sake, Adam went to help the man.

Fanning her face, their grandmother watched him and Dawson walk away.

“What a charming man,” Rebecca said.

Her grandmother exhaled loudly and pumped the fan a little faster. “I haven’t found myself speechless in nearly forty years.”

Unable to hold back, Rebecca released a light laugh. “Then perhaps it’s time.”

“Perhaps,” was all her grandmother said as they watched the men load the barrel of pitch onto a cart.

Dawson may have solicited a younger man with a strong back to assist, but he seemed fit and strong and capable of managing the barrel on his own.

The men returned together, Dawson pulling the cart behind him. “If you ladies won’t mind I’ll tag along for a minute.”

Before they could answer, Adam continued with their tour. “We store our caulking irons, mallets, saws, planes and augers in this area,” Adam said, gesturing to a wall lined with pegs and hooks and nooks for storage. “All our lumber is rough cut and stored over at the mill. We bring it in and shape it as we need it. Our sailmaker prepares the sails and floats them to the dock when we’re ready to rig her.”

“Where would one even begin with all of this?” Rebecca asked, surrounded by an overwhelming inventory of items.

“In that office,” Adam said, pointing to a thick oak door. “Our master shipwright, Ezra Crane, designs our vessels. Dawson used to do that job before he found out how much fun it is to work out here with the full crew.”

Rebecca expected Dawson to laugh, but the man seemed uncomfortable with the comment. “I need to deliver this pitch,” he said. With a nod, he expressed his pleasure at meeting them and wished them a good day before he strode away with his cart in tow.

Adam paused for a moment, an expression of regret on his face as he watched Dawson walk away. It seemed as if he wanted to call the man back, but he didn’t.

“Something amiss?” their grandmother asked.

“No,” he said, and directed their attention back to the paper he was holding. “We take the shipwright’s design that’s on a blueprint such as this one,” he said, showing them a scroll-like paper with so many lines and angles on it that it made Rebecca’s head ache, “and we carry it out to the floor for lofting—that means we do a life-sized drawing of the vessel on the floor. When we finish with the drawing process we know the exact shape and size of every piece of the vessel.”

Gazing at the skeletal beast taking up most of the building floor, Rebecca shook her head in utter amazement. How men could take a mess of lines and angles and create something so intricately designed on such a vast scale was beyond her understanding.

“Once we finish the lofting process we make the keel, which is the backbone of the vessel,” he said, gesturing toward the schooner. “It’s that long, square beam that runs from bow to stern. The hull of the vessel is built around the keel. We attach a square frame and plumb level to the waterline, along with several other steps, before we attach the ribs.”

“They look like ribs,” Rebecca said, amazed. “How do you bend the wood like that?”

“We steam them to shape.”

“There are so many of them.”

He nodded. “One rib every two feet. It’s a slow process, like framing the hull and attaching the bulkhead, but it’s important that every piece fits nice and tight. Then we use planers and augers to shape every plank that covers the hull outside and in. Once they are secured in place, we use a cotton and oakum mixture to caulk between every plank.”

“My word... that’s an unimaginable amount of work,” their grandmother said. She seemed tiny and insignificant standing beside the bones of the schooner, but in that moment Rebecca realized that the woman was becoming as important to her as the wind was to the great sails that powered the schooner. Grandma Grayson had commanded Rebecca to get out of bed and find a way to enjoy the rest of her life. Rebecca silently promised that she would give it her best effort.

“Don’t allow me to be boorish,” Adam said to Rebecca. “I’m leaving out a good deal, but if this is more than you ladies wish to know we can move along.”

Rebecca glanced at her grandmother who seemed as intrigued as she was. “I’m enthralled,” she said. The look in Adam’s eyes said he, too, was enthralled—with her. As their eyes locked, she floundered in his gaze, feeling as churned up as the water tumbling along the Crane River behind the pretty little house that he had found for her. Did he choose that location because it was so romantic?

A loud bang from across the way snapped his attention back to the task at hand. “Where were we?” he asked. “Oh, yes, the shear plank, that’s the top plank, is installed and the deck is built on that ledge. It’s quite complicated and scientific to distribute the load evenly, but take my word that it’s far more information than you ladies would enjoy hearing about.”

He was so serious it made Rebecca smile. “You are supposed to be enjoying this, too, Adam.”

He made a face. “I enjoy it too much. It takes upwards of a year to build a vessel and I could talk that long about the process.”

She laughed and hooked her arm around her grandmother’s elbow. “We would like to enjoy a few days in our cozy house on the river, so perhaps we can finish our tour in time for us to move our bags and have supper in our new home?”

A smile tilted his mouth as if he enjoyed her teasing. “Of course, and I should like very much to sup with you ladies one evening before we return to Fredonia.”

“You will join us every evening and we’ll eat together as family should,” their grandmother said. “Tonight you can bring your friend Dawson with you if he would like to join us for a simple supper on our back porch. I’m sure Radford will enjoy a bit of male company.”

“I’m sure he would,” Adam replied. “I’ll have the Beacon Inn make up a basket for our supper and I will deliver it by seven o’clock if that suits you ladies.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” their grandmother said, clasping her hands in front of her breast. “It will allow us time to settle in a bit before supper. Now tell me how you get this whale out of here.”

Rebecca exchanged a surprised look with Adam. Their grandmother’s invitation to Adam was understandable, and Rebecca was secretly pleased she would be seeing him each evening. Now that she had seen Adam in a different light rather than as a mysterious man from a past that she couldn’t remember, she looked forward to learning more about him. And apparently their grandmother wanted to learn more about Dawson Crane.

Turning back to the schooner, Adam said, “Before we can get this whale in the water—” he winked at their grandmother “—we need to add deck beams and planks, and then build cabins, add hatches and port holes and other necessities such as cabinetry. Once we finish the inside we assemble the rigging and trim hardware. I’m skipping over many laborious jobs, ladies, but I promised to get you home before supper. There isn’t enough time to share every step in building a vessel, but when this girl is finished, we pull her out through that channel. Once she’s in the bay we float her to the dock where we outfit her sails.”

“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.

Chapter Fourteen

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.”

Adam tilted his head, a funny sort of grin on his face. “You have a kitten?”

Rebecca returned his smile, her heart lifting at the memory of Jojo snuggling against her neck as she fell asleep during the night. “I found her by the river last night,” she said. “I tried to locate her mother this morning without any luck.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It appears that Jojo will be staying with me, which is why I need some sawdust.”

“Jojo is it?”

Her smile widened and she nodded. “She’s quite darling, Adam.”

“I’m not surprised she found you,” he said with a light laugh. “Much to your parents’ dismay you seemed to attract every stray cat or dog in the village.”

“Did I?” she asked, pleased to know she had rescued creatures in need.

“You did, and apparently still do,” he answered, his eyes filled with playful adoration. “I’ll bring some sawdust with me when I come for supper. Will that be soon enough?”

“That would be wonderful, Adam. Shall I pay for it now?”

“You shall not,” he said. “There’s no charge for sawdust, although you may owe me a stroll this evening for delivering it to your door.”

“Only if we can walk along the river,” she said, enjoying their flirting.

“We’ll go wherever those pretty feet of yours wish to tread.”

Laughing, she said, “All right, but for now they need to carry me back home. I’ve taken you away from your work too long. I will see you this evening, Adam.”

With that, she turned in the direction of the pretty house on the river and one little kitten that needed her as much as she seemed to need it.

When she returned, her grandmother was sitting on the front porch with her knitting bag. Jojo was playing at her feet with a small ball of yarn. The sight was as endearing as seeing Dawson Crane and Sir John enjoying a morning cuddle.

“What are you knitting?” Rebecca asked as she joined her grandmother on the porch.

“Oh, nothing much,” Grandma said. “My hands just needed something to do, I suppose.”

“I thought you might be enjoying the back porch and the view of the river,” Rebecca said.

Grandma shrugged. “I found it made me a little sad this morning after your father left.” She lowered her knitting needles to her lap. “All that water rushing to go somewhere reminded me how busy this world is getting. In my day we traveled as far as our horse could take us in a day. Now my babies are rolling away on trains and crossing oceans on ships. Looking at the orchard yonder made me feel a little closer to home is all.”

A hard rush of guilt made Rebecca’s stomach queasy. “Grandma, did you want to go home with Daddy?” she asked.

“No, dear.” Grandma smiled and patted her hand. “I just wish I could keep all my babies in one place. You and Adam are out here and it won’t be long before my other grandchildren are setting off to see the world.”

“We’ll be going home soon, Grandma. Shall I ask Doctor Samuel to let me go home now?”

“Of course not, honey. Despite my momentary melancholy I’m quite enjoying our stay.”

“Dawson Crane seems to be enjoying our stay as well,” Rebecca said, giving her grandmother a knowing smile. “He has offered to drive us to service on Sunday. I’ll be riding in with Mary Crane, but I told him you might appreciate his invitation.”

“Hmmh... that I might.” Grandma took up her knitting again. “Perhaps I’ll take a walk this evening and deliver my answer.”

“He plans to call on you this evening.”

“That will be even better,” she said, keeping her eyes on the clacking needles. “We can take a walk together.”

Jojo tumbled over Rebecca’s foot in avid pursuit of the cushy ball and trailing string.

Rebecca reached down and hand-wrestled the little fur ball. “I see Grandma is already spoiling you.”

“I suspect you didn’t find her mother?” Grandma asked.

Rebecca’s heart sank and she shook her head. “No. Dawson thinks we won’t ever find her.”

“Oh, dear, that’s too bad.”

Nodding her agreement, Rebecca sat quietly for a moment watching Jojo play. Suddenly, she lifted her head and asked, “Grandma, who has crossed the ocean on a ship?”

Looking up from her knitting, her grandmother’s eyes were filled with an emotion Rebecca didn’t recognize. “No one yet, sweetheart, but I suspect you and Adam will be the first of my grandchildren to see what’s on the other side of that vast body of water.”

Stunned, Rebecca sat with her mouth open. “Grandma, how could you predict such a thing? More so, how can you be so certain that I would cross an ocean with Adam?”

“I’m not certain of anything, honey. It’s just a feeling I have, and I’m not sure if I’m more happy for you or sad for me.”

Chapter Fifteen

That evening Rebecca got her walk along the river that Adam had promised her.

“Let’s see if you can still beat me at skipping stones,” Adam said, his playful challenge too engaging to resist.

Rebecca stood beside him at the edge of the river a short distance from her house. She had left Jojo with Grandma and Dawson who were happy sitting on the porch talking with each other after supper instead of taking a walk “How do I play?” Rebecca asked.

His eyebrow shot upward, revealing his surprise. “You don’t remember?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

“Well, I may have just found one thing I’m glad you’ve forgotten,” he said, surprising her in return. “Come on. I can hardly wait to test your skill.” He caught her hand and led her to a small clearing. There he scraped up several flat rocks from the bank. “The goal is to get the most skips when you sail your stone across the water.” He demonstrated, getting three skips from the stone before it sank in the river. He passed a flat stone to her. “Your turn.”

“Oh, my... are you sure we used to do this?” she asked, fingering the dirty stone.

“Positive and you trounced me every time.”

“All right then. I’ll do my best to continue the tradition.” She drew her arm back and threw the stone. It landed in the river and sank like a... stone.

“Hooray, I won the first round!” Adam raised his fists in the air and did a silly dance that made her laugh.

She hadn’t seen him so playful and animated. His lighthearted teasing was infectious, and before she knew it she was digging up her own rocks and taking note of every move he made. From the angle of his elbow to the flick of his wrist, she watched intently and imitated him. “Eureka!” she said, scooping up two more stones. “I’ve got it now. If you’ll kindly step aside, sir, the competition is about to begin.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he said, sweeping a ridiculous bow that made her laugh again.

She hooked her pointer finger around the stone and flung it backhand. The stone skipped across the surface of the water three times and sank. “I did it!” she exclaimed.

Grinning at her success, Adam nodded. “But to win you must get six skips with one stone.”

“I’m just warming to the challenge.”

“Me too,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her dirty hand. “Let me know when you’re ready to begin the competition.”

“I fully recognize your underhanded attempt to distract me, Adam, but I’m oblivious to your charm.” She retracted her hand, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Game on, sir.”

Laughing, he scrounged up three stones for each of them. “Ladies first.”

She set her feet and flung her stone. “One... two... three... oh drat.”

“Three for you and—” he flung his stone “—one... two... three... four... ah, well, it tops your three.”

Leveling her stone in her fingers, she flung the disc shaped rock and added a last second wrist flick that sailed the stone across the water five times before it slowly sank.

“Oh, boy...” Adam’s exclamation made her laugh.

“I’m not sure if I’m remembering how to do this or if I’m just a quick study.”

“I suspect you’re both much to my detriment.” He threw his stone and got three high hops before it disappeared. “That round goes to you, my lady.”

She prepared to throw, but held back last minute. “I need another rock. Something flat and smooth, if you can find one.”

“Oh ho! Now you want me to find you the perfect stone so you can trounce me again?”

“Yes, sir.” She bit her lip, but couldn’t stop her giggle. “Please, Adam. This is the most fun I’ve had in... well, since I can remember.”

“Trouncing me? Or throwing stones?” he asked.

“Both.”

“Wicked woman, I’ll do your bidding, but be warned I’ll not let you win.”

And so they spent several minutes searching out the two most perfect throwing stones they could find on the bank of the Crane River. Stones in hand, scrubbed free of dirt, they entered their final match.

Rebecca set her feet, angled her elbow, leveled her stone and flung it backwards, finishing with a hard flick of her wrist. “One-two-three... four... five... six!” Her squeal of delight echoed along the creek. “Top that, Mr. Grayson!”

The expression on his face was such a mix of tender adoration it held her spellbound. For a single moment in time on the rocky riverbank she and Adam rediscovered each other. She felt their connection... their friendship... their love.

“You... you need seven to win,” she whispered.

“I already won.” He flung his stone out across the river where they watched it skim the sparkling surface five times. “You haven’t lost your touch, Rebecca.”

With him? With skipping stones? Heat suffused her face and she turned her attention to brushing the excess dirt from her fingers. “I’d like to see more of the river path, if you don’t mind.”

He presented his arm and they slowly strolled the worn dirt track along the river, both of them growing quiet and contemplative. “What was your favorite moment today?” Adam asked.

“Waking up with Jojo in my life.” She lowered her lashes, embarrassed by her answer. “That probably sounds silly to you.”

“Not at all.” He gave her arm a light squeeze against his side. “While watching her this evening I fell a little in love with her myself.”

“You did?” She glanced up to see if he might be teasing her.

His brown eyes held nothing but sincerity. “I fell a little in love with both of you.”

“I thought you were already—” Rebecca bit her lip to stop the mindless comment. “That is... I thought you were growing tired of her pestering you.”

“I enjoyed the little scamp. And yes, Rebecca, I am already in love with you.” He drew her to a halt on the path. “Don’t ever doubt that,” he said, as if he needed to assure her—and himself.

Breathless, she looked up at him all tall and handsome and gazing at her in a way that made her legs weak. “Wh-what was your best moment today?” she sputtered because she had no idea how to reply to his declaration of love.

“Seeing you at the mill.”

She had to move this conversation to a more comfortable topic. “If I hadn’t come to the mill, what would have been your best moment of the day—before you came here this evening?” she asked, leaving no room for him to work her into his answer.

“Other than thinking about you, my best moment was seeing Micah Crane return to work.”

“He works at the mill? I thought he was of school age,” Rebecca said.

“He’s nearly eighteen and he works in the shipyard.”

“Goodness. The night we supped with the Cranes he didn’t say five words all evening. I thought he was just a shy boy.”

Adam nodded. “I thought the same when I first met him. Apparently he has some growing ahead of him yet.”

“One would hope.” Rebecca put a little room between them. “Why has he been out of work?”

Adam’s slight hesitation was unusual, as if he needed to gauge and formulate his response. “Micah took a bad fall from faulty scaffolding on a ship. He took a nasty hit to his chin when he fell into the bay. Doc Samuel has kept him out of work until now just to make sure Micah was steady on his feet before climbing rigging and scaffolding again.”

“That must have been terrifying for Mr. and Mrs. Crane,” she said. “I’m surprised they will allow him to go back.”

“He’s not a boy, Rebecca. Despite his appearance he’s a young man who is honored to follow his family into the shipbuilding business.”

“I understand, but after touring the mill and shipyard every job looks dangerous. Oh, Adam, please be careful.”

A soft smile tilted his mouth. “Could this be evidence that you might care for me a little?”

She cared for him more than a little, but he was far too ardent in his manner this evening for her comfort. “Who will I skip stones with if you get injured?”

His hoot of laughter startled a squirrel on a branch overhead. It scurried farther up into the large maple tree and watched them with suspicion as they moved on.

“I’ve missed this side of you,” he said, guiding her along the worn path.

“Until coming to Crane Landing I haven’t felt much like laughing.”

“I understand. I know how difficult it must be for you.”

“It’s also difficult for everyone around me,” she said, “especially you, I suspect. I hope you know I’m doing my best to find my way through this.”

He nodded, and they walked on in silence for a minute or two.

“Adam, how old were you when you moved to Fredonia?” she asked. For her own security she could never reveal the disturbing thoughts she’d had about his mother, or her own mother for that matter, but perhaps she could learn more about both of them from Adam.

“I was an awkward thirteen-year-old boy. Why?”

“I’m trying to piece my life together like a puzzle, but find I’m missing nearly all of the pieces. What brought your mother to Fredonia?” she asked, intentionally shifting the conversation back to his past.

“I came to Fredonia with my sister, Faith, because our mother had died.”

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I mean I must have known, but of course I didn’t remember that.”

“It’s all right, Rebecca. I understand why you need to ask questions. Faith opened the greenhouse and sold herbs and balms. She met your Uncle Duke and they got married. Duke adopted me, giving me the Grayson name that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to live up to. I met you shortly after I moved to Fredonia and I was instantly enamored of you.”

“Was that before or after my uncle adopted you?”

“Before. We met in June. Duke didn’t adopt me until December. We weren’t cousins. Not ever, Rebecca. You and I have always been sweethearts.”

“Did my father know this?”

“Yes, and he didn’t like it. For a while he forbade me to see you because he felt I would lead you astray.”

“I can’t imagine that. Daddy seems to think quite highly of you, Adam. He apparently accepted you at some point.”

Adam halted and glanced back toward the house. “I promised Grandmother we wouldn’t stroll too far. Let’s head back and I’ll tell you about the winter we found Leo and Benny hiding in our greenhouse.”

Although his comment stirred her curiosity she had noted the abrupt shift in conversation. He’d done the same thing when she’d asked about Micah Crane’s accident. Sensing he was being intentionally evasive bothered her, but she couldn’t think about it while he was filling her head with stories of Leo and their Sleigh of Hope run each winter and the many summers they all spent rowing Canadaway Creek and the colorful fall season when they would rake the leaves into enormous piles and hide in them. They had stolen their first passionate kiss in the leaves, he told her. And he went on about their festive Christmas celebrations in the hall above the greenhouse and dances and fireworks and on and on until her head ached trying to place the memories within the context of her life. He talked about being thirteen and twenty and jumped back to a time when they were sixteen and then fourteen until the memories circled her mind like debris in a raging whirlpool.

“Adam, please!” She held up her hand. “Please just... stop.”

“What is it, love? Is something the matter?”

“There are too many pieces to my life. I’ll never remember all of this. I can’t even recall what you told me two minutes ago. I’m sorry, Adam, but my head aches and I need to lie down.” Frustrated, she pulled her arm free and increased her pace. They were near the house and she just wanted to escape inside and play with Jojo until she forgot every memory Adam just crammed into her already confused mind.

Chapter Sixteen

Mary Crane arrived at the house a full forty minutes before the start of Sunday service. She came in style aboard a sleek Phaeton Basket, and she managed the reins of her saddlebred mare, Josie, on her own.

Rebecca, who had stepped outside to cut a few stalks of snapdragons to place on the picnic tables after church, put the pruning scissors and basket of flowers aside and headed down the shelled walk to greet her. When she saw Mary’s magnificent horse and sporty carriage it made her think of the livery back home and her own beautiful mare she’d left behind. She missed Star and also her parents and siblings, but she knew it was impossible to go back yet.

Greeting her newfound friend, Rebecca watched as Mary climbed out of the phaeton with ease. Tall and resplendent in a small-bustled silk day gown patterned with tiny roses and complimented by a rose-colored belt cinched around her slender waist, Mary appeared every inch the daughter of the town’s most beloved patron. Her dark hair was swept up into a pleasing style and crowned with a fashionable feathered hat that matched her gown.

The more Rebecca learned about Mary, the better she liked her. She harbored a wildly independent spirit that Rebecca aspired to while at the same time she carried the pain of loss that resonated with Rebecca. Mary Crane had been married only a year when her husband, Peter, an older man and captain of one of the Crane’s merchant vessels, had died unexpectedly while picking up cargo in the Cayman Islands.

“Rebecca, is your grandmother not joining us this morning?” Mary asked.

“She received a more pleasing proposition from your uncle Dawson,” Rebecca said, unable to hold back a smile.

Mary arched her shapely eyebrow. “Uncle Dawson is calling on your grandmother?”

“They seem to have become fast friends. He has become a frequent visitor.”

“Why... that’s wonderful. I can hardly wait to see my father’s face when I tell him that Uncle Dawson is courting your grandmother.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t carry their friendship that far, Mary. Not yet anyhow.” Rebecca motioned to the basket of flowers she’d left at the doorstep. “If you give me just a moment, I’ll get my parasol as well as the snapdragons I gathered to place on the tables.”

“Oh, no need to hurry. May I walk in with you? I should love to see your kitten.”

“Of course,” Rebecca said, leading the way up the shelled walk. “Jojo is sleeping in her bed. It’s just an old crate on the kitchen floor, but she seems to like it.”

The scent of summer and ocean wrapped about them, and once again Rebecca found herself amazed by her surroundings. The morning sun sparkled bright against the white house with its bevy of windows that faced the wide flowing river—four on the first floor, five on the second floor, and three smaller windows at the attic level. She loved the house and was deeply contented with lazy evenings on the back porch talking with her grandmother and Adam and playing with Jojo.

She led the way through the front door and into the front parlor, which was one of her favorite rooms with its cheerful wallpaper and Queen Anne style furniture.

“That’s always been one of my favorite pieces,” Mary said, gesturing at the roll-top desk in the far corner of the room.

“Mine too,” Rebecca said. “In fact, I found something inside that must belong to your family.” She crossed the room and opened the desk. From inside one of the cubby hole compartments now revealed, she pulled forth an old hymnal. “I’ve meant to ask you about this, but details such as this seem to slip my mind so easily.”

Mary’s mouth opened on a breathy laugh. “So this is where it’s been hiding. This belonged to one of Princess Cecily’s daughters,” she exclaimed, glancing at Rebecca. “Mother and I thought it long lost. Now that I know it’s in gentle hands I’d like to offer it for your use while you are in Crane Landing.”

“Oh, my—thank you,” Rebecca said, truly touched by Mary’s warmth and generosity. “I would very much enjoy using it during my stay here. I’m afraid my memory isn’t so good just now. The hymnal will allow me to sing along today.”

Mary’s expression flattened. “I’m dreadfully sorry about your accident. I can only imagine how difficult all of this is for you.”

Rebecca nodded. “Having a friend lightens my heart considerably,” she said, clasping Mary’s gloved hand.

“As does your friendship,” Mary replied. “Thank you for your honesty, Rebecca. Let’s turn our thoughts to more enjoyable topics on this sunny Sunday morning. This book has been handed down in my family from one generation to the next. As a boy, my father carried it to service every Sunday. In fact, he and my mother used to use it when they were courting to pass notes back and forth during services.”

Rebecca smiled. “I can only imagine how excited they must have been to turn its pages and find each other’s notes.”

“Sometimes a little too excited,” Mary said as her eyes brightened with laughter. “Mother says she was scolded more than a few times for having the book open to the wrong hymn at the wrong time.” Laughing, Mary gave a small shake of her head. “It astonishes me to think of my parents as young lovers, but I suppose it shouldn’t. They are still very much in love.”

Rebecca nodded. The love between Georgia and Eliza Crane was obvious and enviable. “Adam said we once shared a love like that, but I can’t remember it,” Rebecca confessed to her friend. “It’s hard knowing I lost something so beautiful.”

“I understand only too well,” Mary said softly.

Rebecca grimaced. “Of course you do. I’m so sorry.”

Mary nodded and glanced at the hymnal in Rebecca’s nervous grip. “You’ll find songs of joy and of sorrow in that book. They are life’s songs, Rebecca. No one who lives can escape heartache or pain. You and I are both living examples of this. My hope is that you are finding great joy and healing here at Crane Landing.”

“I am.” Rebecca grasped the hymnal with both hands. “This place speaks to me,” she whispered, holding the old book tight. She ran the pads of her gloved thumbs up and down the roughly textured binding of the hymnal. “It’s as if Princess Cecily’s courageous spirit permeates everything around me.” The gold leaf of the title blurred as tears rose in her eyes. “My attempt to get on with my life seems puny compared to her effort.”

“You’ve known great hardship lately,” Mary said, compassion filling her voice. “Lightning has struck your life; that’s what GG, my Great-great-granddaddy Crane, would say if he were alive. He lived in this house once. In fact, this very room was once struck by lightning. But he never thought about what was taken. Instead, he focused on what remained and he rebuilt this part of the house. Though the lightning and rain took a good portion of it, the rooms and chimney that survived were strong and proved their worth again and again.”

Rebecca lifted her chin, wondering if she could find the cornerstones of her life and rebuild from there.

“Lightning is not a bad thing,” Mary continued. “It may seem destructive, but it’s also magnificent and powerful. Paired with the rain it helps the grass and trees and other plants grow. I believe you’re growing now... and soon you will bloom into whatever new color your blossoms will be.”

Rebecca shifted her gaze to her new friend. Pressing the hymnal close to her chest, she nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered, “for sharing the songs and the story... for your keen understanding... and most of all for your friendship.”

Mary sent her a warm smile. “I feel as if I’ve finally gotten a sister.” She hugged Rebecca and stepped back. “We should go on to the service now. We don’t want to be late. May I come back sometime to see Jojo?”

“Nothing would please me more. You are welcome here anytime, my dear friend.”

Rebecca and Mary headed back outside to the sun-splashed morning. Josie and the Phaeton Basket waited for them at the end of the shelled walkway. Shading themselves beneath Rebecca’s parasol, they talked of lighter things during the exhilarating ride to the church.

The fleet four-wheeled carriage with its high-backed bench sat two. Built with sophistication and agility in mind, it was the perfect vehicle for a sprightly morning ride. The freedom Rebecca felt in the lively phaeton made her spirit soar. Mary handled her horse and reins with gentle authority, which eliminated the need for a groomsman and the dickie seat that had been folded under the bench for the day. In its stead was a large wicker picnic basket, no doubt filled with hearty servings of all manner of food for the day’s picnic.

By the time they reached the church, which was situated above the river and overlooked the crescent-shaped harbor, Rebecca was eager to see Adam. He had offered to walk her to the service this morning, but Rebecca wanted to make friends here. Riding and chatting with Mary during their morning ride was the perfect opportunity to do that.

Built of fieldstone and timber, the church boasted a breathtaking structure of high windows and a soaring steeple that could doubtless be seen by fishermen and sailors far out at sea.

“You’re in for a treat today,” Mary said, bringing the phaeton to a stop. “The service will be held outdoors this morning since work on the new roof isn’t finished yet. The congregation will meet down by the river,” she explained as she disembarked. She retrieved her own parasol from beneath the bench, and then she left Josie and the picnic basket in the capable care of Mr. and Mrs. Watson who tended the church. The missus would oversee the food for the coming picnic, while the mister would tend to the horses during the service.

The church bell pealed, calling all to worship. Rebecca spied a number of people heading for a shaded area down near the water’s edge, where several benches and chairs were in place for the congregation to sit, and a podium for the minister to utilize. She and Mary headed for the footpath, but several “yoo-hoos” and friendly waves soon had her friend waylaid. Rebecca waited while Mary was eventually pulled away by Mina Austin, who was presenting several questions and a few ideas for the upcoming grange dance planned as part of the Independence Day celebration.

From beneath the shade of her parasol, Rebecca scanned the crowd for Adam and watched as more members of the congregation arrived in buggies, on foot, and on horseback. They greeted each other with wide smiles and a true interest in sharing all the news from the past week. Many nodded or smiled in Rebecca’s direction and quite a few people paused to chat with her. These folks had few expectations of her, which allowed her to relax and enjoy their company, unlike how she’d felt during her last Sunday in Fredonia. She truly felt a part of this community and the ocean-side town.

When Mary was pulled into yet another conversation, she waved to Rebecca and promised she wouldn’t be more than a few more minutes, at which time they could finally get seated for the service.

“I’ll find my own place,” Rebecca called back, meaning to ease Mary’s mind, but those words rang like church bells in her own mind, heralding something important she needed to pay attention to. She could find her own place; not only here at this service, but in this beautiful community at Crane Landing.

Lost in her own uplifting thoughts, Rebecca strolled with the other parishioners along the graveled walk that threaded its way around the church and alongside the cemetery. Banked on all sides by a timber and fieldstone fence, the place appeared a peaceful oasis beyond the front wrought iron gate.

Following her own path, Rebecca stopped a moment and let the other members of the congregation move past her as she peered through the gate. The largest stone marker, situated in the middle of the small cemetery and from which all other markers seemed to flow outward, held the Crane name etched upon it in large letters.

Drawn to the monument, Rebecca lifted the latch of the gate and stepped inside the cemetery. She moved past stone after stone reading the names and dates on them as she headed toward the magnificent Crane marker. The names became more than just etchings in stone, especially when the birth and death dates denoted a tragically short life. When she at last reached the Crane stone, she knew she was in the heart of the family’s burial plot. Names she’d heard since she’d arrived at Crane Landing were suddenly all around her.

The largest of the stones belonged to John “Jack” Crane and Eliza Quincy Crane—the very couple who had made certain that Crane Landing prospered following the Revolution. Alongside their stones were the monuments for their children: sons Nicholas, Gabriel, Samuel, and Owen; and daughters Lucinda, Katherine, Julia, Bethany, and Daphne. The many sons-and daughters-in-law were buried here as well... including Princess Cecily.

Rebecca nearly wept when she found Cecily’s stone alongside that of her husband, Gabriel “Gabe” Crane. Kneeling, her gloved fingers trembling, Rebecca touched her hand to the etched name of Princess Cecily, glad to see that she and her husband had lived a long life together.

“I wish I had known you, Princess. Both of you evoke such love in my breast. I admire your courage and how the two of you made a beautiful home for your family,” Rebecca whispered, needing to speak what was in her heart. “I’m a visitor to your former home, and I feel an echo of the deep love you had for each other and your children. I promise to tend to the house and the land with loving hands as long as I am here.” She paused a moment, swallowing past the emotion welling within her. When she could speak again, she whispered, “Princess Cecily, I promise to do my best to rebuild my life and face the future with as much courage as you once did.”

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.

Chapter Seventeen

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?”

“Blue was a stray that made the bunkhouse home last Fall. I got Scout the same year I met you.”

“Goodness. A dog and a girl in the same year? That must have been some year.”

He laughed. “It was one of the best.”

For several seconds they gazed at each other, both deeply shadowed in the moonlight. “What happened tonight?” he asked softly. “Why are you suddenly welcoming me as if you remember how much we love each other?”

Sighing, she cupped his strong jaw. “Because I want to remember. I want what we lost, Adam.”

With a groan, he squeezed his eyes closed and drew her to him, their foreheads gently touching. “You have no idea how much I want that.”

“Yes, I do.” Her voice was soft, her conviction strong. She knew. “Tell me everything you remember about us being thirteen together,” she said. “I don’t want you to share a single event from before or after that.”

“Any particular reason?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“I want to learn about our relationship one year at a time so I don’t get confused.”

“That could take all night just to tell you about our year of being thirteen,” he said.

“I don’t plan to go back to bed.”

“Talking with you ‘til dawn is far more inviting than wrestling with an old hound all night.”

Their gazes tangled and they smiled at each other.

He drew her deep into his embrace and held her tenderly against him as he set the swing into a gentle rocking motion. “When we were thirteen years old I knew I’d never love anyone but you...” he began. “And I knew I’d never forgive myself for breaking your heart.”

“You broke my heart?” she asked, intrigued.

“I did.” He relaxed his shoulders and drew in a breath. “Your father forbade me to see you. Out of respect for him and my own dad I tried to stay away. When I told you we couldn’t see each other anymore, you pretty much hated me and it was the worst moment of my life...”

Rebecca closed her eyes and drank in his words, wanting to experience the memories with all her senses as he shared them with her. “Where were we when you told me?” she asked.

“In the woods where my dad kept his boat.”

“What time of year was it?”

“Winter, why?”

“Details help me imagine the moment even if I can’t remember it. What did it smell like there?”

“Um... I guess it smelled like pine needles. We were standing in a small copse of pine trees. The air was frigid enough to redden our skin, and the boat held the slight odor of fish. You rode one of the geldings from the livery, a little gray fella, if I recall correctly.”

“Jasper? Could that be right?” she asked without opening her eyes, but a little thrill zipped through her. She didn’t know why the name had come to her, or if it was remotely close to the name of the gelding she rode, but it was exciting to have any ideas at all pop into her mind.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know. Your parents owned or cared for several horses at that time and I never knew the names of all of them because some were only there for a few days.”

“It’s all right,” she said. “And I don’t want to know the rest of this story. I think I’m happier without the memory of you breaking my heart.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Me, too.”

For a long time they sat silently holding each other while Adam rocked them on the swing. There, in the middle of the night while the river rushed by and the crickets chirped, Adam and Rebecca, who had lost so much, found their first opportunity to comfort one another.

Chapter Eighteen

Late morning, Rebecca read a lovely letter from her mother for the second time. She asked after Rebecca’s health and how she was fairing at Crane Landing. She shared news of home and what the children were doing and that they all desperately missed her and Grandmother. Her mother had enclosed a note from Helen Fiske, Rebecca’s longtime friend she had no memory of. Helen wrote simply and with great warmth that she understood that Rebecca didn’t remember her, but she was confident they would become great friends again upon Rebecca’s return. For now, Helen just wanted Rebecca to know she was thinking of her with the warmest thoughts and wishing her a quick and complete recovery. She added a request that Rebecca tell her all about Crane Landing when she returned. Feeling genuine warmth toward Helen, Rebecca folded the note knowing she’d had a good life in Fredonia. She would go back soon and try to reconnect with the many wonderful people she had in her life. But for today, she would embrace her new life and her new friends here in Crane Landing.

With that thought in mind, Rebecca called on Mary Crane to invite her to supper that evening. Then she went on to the mill to ask Adam to bring Leo with him when he came for supper. For Rebecca, the more engaged she kept her mind the less chance for irrational thoughts to sneak in. And the more time she spent with Adam the greater the possibility she would remember him and their love... and her past.

At the mill, Adam guided her to a secluded spot in the yard where it was safer and quieter for them to talk. “I’d rather skip supper and meet you on the back porch in the middle of the night again,” he teased.

Rebecca felt her face heat. She’d been as shameful and bold with him as Adam’s mother must have been with her male customers. The instant the thought registered, she gasped and clasped her hands over her ears as if she couldn’t bear her own wicked thoughts. To even think such a thing was surely evidence of an unstable mind.

“What’s the matter?” Adam asked, his flirtatious smile replaced by a look of concern.

“I... well, I... I’m mortified by my behavior last night,” she said, grasping at anything that might explain her bizarre outburst. But she was really mortified—and scared—by the obviously irrational direction of her thoughts.

“You were sweet and adorable last night.” He slipped his fingers over hers and lowered her hands to her sides, holding them in his own strong and steady hands. “We’ve shared many such moments, Rebecca, and every one of them was filled with love and never involved anything you need be ashamed of.”

She nodded, struggling to erase the horrid thought about Adam’s poor dead mother. “Thank you, Adam. I was just... I felt so desperate to remember you that I tossed my good sense straight into the river the instant you touched me.”

“Rebecca...” He tilted her chin until her eyes met his. “We’re trying to find our way back to each other. We need moments like that when we’re alone. We need to be free to talk honestly and even kiss if we desire. There’s no shame in kissing your betrothed,” he said.

“You were kissing your betrothed, Adam. I was kissing a man I’m just getting to know. There is a big difference between the two.”

Slowly, he shook his head. “No, Rebecca. Last night you knew me. I could feel the difference when I held you. If you don’t believe me, meet me on the porch at midnight. I know what I felt from you. Let me hold you again, and when you close your eyes you’ll remember me... you’ll remember us,” he said.

His certainty stunned her. There was truth to his words that put her thoughts in a spin. She had felt completely comfortable with him last night as if she had spent years being held in his arms. When he’d first arrived and caught her in a semi-sleep, moving into his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world. His scent, his touch, the sound of his voice was... it felt like... home.

“Perhaps...” she said, slowly, her thoughts still anchored in their late night encounter.

“Perhaps you’ll meet me?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I meant perhaps I may have remembered you... for a few minutes,” she said.

“You knew me, Rebecca.” He slid his hands up her arms and gently squeezed her shoulders. “Let me help you remember. Meet me again tonight.”

She took a step back, both scared and excited about the thought of another late night interlude with Adam. “I’ll see you at supper. Will you bring Leo?”

The intensity drained from his eyes. “Is it Mary or you who wants Leo there?”

Rebecca frowned. “We both do. Why do you ask?”

Adam shook his head. “Curiosity is all. If he’s available, I’ll bring him along. Think about meeting me tonight, will you?”

“I’ll consider it.” With that, Rebecca turned and hurried out of the yard before she could commit herself to something she might regret. She needed to think this through logically, not emotionally. But wild exciting thoughts circled her mind as she walked to the grocer to pick up a few items that her grandmother had requested. If she met Adam tonight she could enjoy the wonderful sensation of being held in his arms. She could close her eyes and drink in his scent. But more importantly she could feel connected to him—and her past—again.

The temptation to meet him burned hard in her breast as she headed out River Road.

As soon as she returned home she helped her grandmother in the kitchen for an hour and then took Jojo outside to play. Minutes later she had followed Jojo to the front yard where the frisky kitten chased a tiny white moth flitting beneath the maple tree.

The sound of a carriage rattling up the short drive surprised Rebecca.

“Good day, young lady,” Doctor Samuel said, hailing her from the driver’s seat. “I was down the road checking on Micah Crane and thought I’d head up the hill and check on you as well.”

Rebecca welcomed the doctor, but as they sat on the front porch she silently cautioned herself to choose her words with care. “I had planned to see you tomorrow, Doctor Samuel.”

“I know, and I have saved you the trip,” he said. “How have your headaches been?” he asked.

“They are improving, but still a bother.”

“How frequent and how severe are they?” he asked.

“I have daily headaches of varying degree,” she answered lightly as if it was a common complaint.

The doctor eyed her closely for a minute. “Are you sleeping any better at night?

“I’m managing all right,” she said, being intentionally evasive about her sleeping habits. Her nightmare last night was enough to keep her silent on anything others may perceive as unusual. Jojo scampered onto the porch and batted at the hem of Rebecca’s skirt. With a light laugh, she lifted the kitten onto her lap. “This is Jojo’s way of telling me she’s ready for a nap,” Rebecca said to the doctor.

He smiled and watched the kitten settle in. “Where did she come from?” he asked.

Rebecca gladly shifted the conversation to the kitten and told him all about Jojo’s escapades since joining their household.

While she talked, Doctor Samuel watched her closely. “Is there any particular reason you’re uncomfortable with me, Rebecca?”

His question stopped her cold.

“You seem to be physically improved, but deeply troubled.”

His astute observation terrified her. She stared at the doctor as if he’d caught her pilfering his medicine chest. “I’m fine,” she said, but her declaration sounded fearful and unconvincing.

He nodded, but continued probing and questioning her for several minutes. “You appear to be on edge,” he said. “Are you feeling overwhelmed?” he asked. And on and on he queried until she actually laughed.

“I’m fine, Doctor, but your numerous questions are making me feel worse.”

She expected him to relent, but Doctor Samuel had a keen eye for evasion and wouldn’t be diverted from getting to a clear diagnosis.

“What’s bothering you, Rebecca?”

Knowing he wouldn’t leave until she gave him something to chew on, she finally confessed to having sleepless nights, but she blamed it on headache pain. She told him that staying at Crane Landing was helping her relax and feel less agitated, although she wouldn’t tell him about the disturbing thoughts she’d been having or that she had been looking for the red-haired lady to assure herself the woman wasn’t a hallucination.

With a loud sigh Doc Samuel patted her shoulder and got to his feet. “When you’re ready to share what is on your mind come see me, dear. I want to see you again in two weeks either way.”

As soon as he left, Rebecca forcefully put the doctor out of her mind. She didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about her accident or her headaches or any of the myriad complications that came with it. She wanted to enjoy her time in this beautiful town.

And that’s what she tried to do that evening when she and Mary challenged Adam and Leo to a game of lawn croquet after supper.

o0o

Adam had always thought Rebecca at her most beautiful when working with her horses at the livery back in Fredonia.

He’d been wrong.

As he sat on the porch watching Rebecca, the late afternoon sun casting a soft, warm glow about her, he knew she was at the height of her beauty right now, and would be more so in two more seconds, and two more beyond that.

Adam could sense the joyful energy that emanated from her. She was in her element here—in this house, in Crane Landing. She had smiled so much throughout dinner that everyone else naturally gravitated to her state of happiness.

Her eyes lit up as she laughed at something silly Leo said, and Adam felt his heart lift at the sight. He loved seeing her happy, animated. There had been too many shadows in her eyes since her accident. But he wanted to be the one to make her laugh.

“Be warned, Rebecca. I see a plot in motion,” said Mary in a light, teasing tone. “Leo is trying to soften his opponents. He doesn’t want us winning the croquet game.”

“What a pity,” said Rebecca, her brown eyes narrowing as she focused on Leo. “So that’s what you’re up to then?”

Leo feigned innocence. “Now, now, don’t believe everything Mary says.”

“Only the things I say about Leo,” Mary replied.

“Duly noted.” Rebecca leaned toward Mary and in a conspirator’s tone, said, “We’ll let him prove his worth on the croquet court.”

“Where we women shall soon rule,” Mary agreed.

Leo simply grinned and leaned back in his chair, threading his fingers together behind his head.

Mary rolled her eyes. “What are you up to Mr. Sullivan?”

He gave her a melting grin. “You ladies will find out soon enough.”

“Quit divulging our secrets,” Adam said, nudging Leo’s chair leg with the toe of his shoe.

The chair rocked back at a dangerous angle. Leo splayed his arms and righted the chair before it went over backwards. “Killing or crippling your partner isn’t part of our plan, Adam.”

“Neither is taunting the opposition. Come on, now,” Adam said, shooing Leo out of his chair before he tipped it backward again. “Let’s get this match going before you crack your fool head open.”

Mary, who had brought the croquet set, got to her feet and gestured to a rectangular wooden box on the grass. “You fellas set up the game while we clean up.”

Grandma waved away Mary’s assistance. “You four go on now. Dawson and I want to enjoy the river without you gals clanking dishes in the sink. I’ll take care of them later. “You can set the game up in the field by the apple orchard.”

The happy foursome hurried to an open patch of lawn up the hill beyond the garden.

Bordered by a small old-growth apple orchard first begun by the Crane family nearly one hundred years ago, the expanse of lawn held a vista view of Crane River. At one time it had been a favored look-out spot for watching the logs head downriver during the spring melt. Through the years, though, the wide expanse of lawn evolved into a perfect place for picnics and lawn games. A babbling brook amid a stand of oak trees edged the far side of the area.

They headed for the middle of the wide space. Adam and Leo each carried a handle of the crate-like croquet box. Rebecca, with a curious Jojo in her arms, walked beside Adam on his left, while Mary walked alongside Leo.

“We used to play with this croquet set when I was just a girl,” Mary said. “It belonged to my grandfather. He loved to play, especially after dark. There’s a holder for a candle atop each wicket.”

“Sounds like fun,” Rebecca replied.

“It is!” Mary said. “Once it grows dark and we light the candles atop the wickets, it’s rather unnerving when a ball is struck out of bounds into the oak grove where anything could be lurking in the dark.”

“Should your ball go astray I’ll escort you into the shadowy night, my dear,” Leo said, playfully wagging his brows as they headed toward the middle of the clearing.

“That’s about as comforting as a fox guarding a hen house.” Mary gave a mock click of her tongue. “No wonder the Boston clergy claim croquet encourages bad behavior.”

Leo and Rebecca both laughed.

Adam just shook his head. It felt good to be here with his friends. When he was a small boy, long before he and his sister moved to Fredonia, he’d ached for moments like this. Back then he had no friends. The neighbor children weren’t allowed to play with him. They called him names, threw stones at him, and even hit him with a stick once when they caught him spying on them. After that, Adam would hide in his yard and secretly peer at the neighbor children playing games with each other and wonder why he wasn’t acceptable to them.

Now he knew why, but his childhood had been a painful, lonely time he was happy to forget.

He glanced over at Rebecca, who carried Jojo in the crook of her arm, and knew this moment was Heaven sent—for both of them. A look of pure joy on her face, Rebecca scratched Jojo’s tiny head with one finger. Adam could hear the little fur ball purring.

“She sounds like the saw at the mill,” he said. “Think she’ll stay near while we play the game?”

“I’ll keep a close eye on her.”

“So will I, and I’ll keep a close eye on you, too,” he said, giving Rebecca a flirtatious wink that made her laugh.

They finally reached the middle of the clearing where Adam and Leo set down the crate. Adam opened the hinged lid to reveal a gleaming handcrafted croquet set of boxwood trimmed with brass.

Leo lifted one of the long-handled mallets from the case, a whistle of approval sliding through his teeth. “That’s some craftsmanship at work. Let me guess. One of your Crane ancestors bought it in some far-off place.”

“Not that far-off. England. And maybe not that long ago—the 1860s, I think,” Mary said.

“Long ago enough for me. So it’s ladies against the gentlemen then?”

“Absolutely,” Rebecca said, setting Jojo in the grass.

While Jojo timidly explored the field, Adam and Leo set the stakes and wickets in the ground, and then everyone gathered in a circle for the coin toss to decide colors. Adam and Leo would play the blue and yellow balls; Rebecca and Mary, the red and black balls.

Adam was up first, and soon the crisp crack of mallet heads against balls could be heard echoing across the river.

Leo proved to be the strategist in the game, thinking through various types of shots before making one. But Mary outplayed him and obstructed his ball whenever she could, which was often and the cause of much laughing and jesting among the four of them.

Rebecca played with abandon. Adam could almost see her casting off her cares as she chatted and played with him and their friends. On the croquet court, she didn’t seem to fret about her memory loss or the future; she simply played the game—and beautifully at that.

Jojo chased Rebecca’s ball a few times and even swatted at the mallet head, but mostly the kitten sat back on her haunches and watched her mistress.

Eventually dusk gave way to darkness and the croquet court took on a faerie-like glow as candles burned atop each of the wickets. The friendly rivalry between Mary and Leo increased as the daylight sank away, but Adam noticed that Rebecca became anxious as they played by candlelight. Mary and Leo outpaced them, finishing the course and then waiting at a corner of the court to tease each other some more.

Was it the darkness Rebecca feared? The night to come? Perhaps her injury caused her eyes trouble in adjusting to the lack of light. Adam didn’t know, but he aimed to find out.

“Is something troubling you, Rebecca?”

“Do you know where Jojo is? I don’t see her.”

Adam nodded to the crate. “She jumped in it during your last shot. She’s sound asleep there. Snug as a bug.”

“Oh...” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness.”

“Do you want to stop? We can tell Mary and Leo we’re ready to go back to the house.”

Rebecca shook her head. “As long as Jojo is safe I’d like to finish.” She smiled then and met his eyes. “I’ll be sorry to end this fun match by besting you.”

He returned her smile. “It’s not over yet, darling.”

As they headed for the last few wickets, Adam earned an extra stroke by hitting Rebecca’s ball. He made roquet with his striker ball against Rebecca’s roqueted ball, sending hers out of the way. He purposely left her with a difficult shot because if he knew one thing best about Rebecca Grayson it was that she was determined. She did her best when challenged.

“Oh! You rascal!” she said, setting her hands on her hips as if put out with him, but he could see that she loved their playful competition.

Once Adam scored the next wicket, Rebecca moved into action and not only put her ball back into play, but through the final wickets to the finishing stake.

When she looked up at Adam, a delighted smile lit her beautiful face. “I did it,” she whispered, the glow of the candles on the last two wickets wreathing her features in a soft light.

“You did,” he agreed softly.

Adam moved toward her, tapping his ball to the final stake. But he was no longer paying attention to the game because he didn’t care about winning or even finishing. He only cared about spending the day with Rebecca. The challenge for him had been to make it through the match without pulling her into his lonely aching arms.

He stopped in front of her, gently took the mallet from her hands and then set both mallets against the stake.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“About what?” She hugged her arms about her body as if cold.

“About why you panicked earlier when you knew full well Jojo was asleep in the crate. You haven’t let that little fur ball out of your sight all evening. What happened?” He shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it about her shoulders. “Something upset you, my love.”

“It’s—I was having such fun with you and our friends and I just... I realized how happy I am here and that our time here is going by so fast and... and it made me a little sad is all. I want to get my memory back before we go home so I can have this same feeling when I see my family and the friends I left behind there. Mama’s letters are so beautiful and I miss my family deeply, but I can’t bear the thought of having to leave all of this behind when we go home.”

Adam rubbed his hands up and down her arms, hoping to warm her and calm her. “I know, sweetheart.” He put his mouth to her brow and kissed her, then touched his forehead to hers. “It won’t be easy, but we’ll make sure we visit here often.”

They stood there a moment, the sounds of the night wrapping about them.

“Do you hear that?” Adam asked.

“Leo laughing?”

“No, that burbling sound.”

“Yes, I hear it.”

“It’s the stones in the creek bed that change the course of the water and create the river’s song. No stones, no song.” Gently, he drew her to him. “Our obstacles and heartaches help create our song. What we are today is not what we will be tomorrow. Change is inevitable, darling, and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing or distress you. I’ll be right here... listening to your beautiful song as the twists and turns in life add new layers to your melody.”

“That’s so beautiful, Adam.” On a sigh, she lowered her forehead to his shoulder. “You must think I’m a dreadful mess.”

“I think you’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met.” He tilted her chin up and looked into her dark eyes. He remembered the way she had sought his mouth while caught up in her dream state, and he knew they both needed a moment like that again. He wanted a lifetime of them.

“Will you meet me tonight, Rebecca?”

Chapter Nineteen

Rebecca met Adam at midnight because she was curious—and because she longed to feel that special closeness to him again.

When Adam arrived, she was sitting on the swing with Jojo sleeping on her lap.

“It’s me,” he whispered, his voice coming out of the starlit night as he left the river path.

Rebecca squinted to see him approaching. “Hello,” she whispered back her heartbeat kicking up a notch.

He climbed the steps and quietly crossed to where she sat. “I’m glad you decided to meet me.”

She was glad, too. He was all she’d been able to think about.. She patted the empty space beside her. “There’s room for three if you would like to sit with us.”

“Ah,” he said, glancing down at Jojo. “I see someone else is enjoying this beautiful night as well.”

“She loves being rocked.”

“So do you, if last night was any indication.” He sat beside her. “I thought you might be too tired to meet me.”

She flushed with warmth remembering the feel of his arms and how nice it was to snuggle with him. “I am tired, but I enjoyed last night... talking and such, and this seems the best way to learn about our past and get to know you better.”

He acknowledged her comment with a slight nod, and swept his finger over Jojo’s tiny back. “Hey, little tiger, your purring could compete with the peepers.”

Rebecca smiled as his sweet greeting to the kitten. “It’s a comforting sound, isn’t it?”

“It’s the defining sound of contentment.”

She smiled. “I find it wonderfully calming.”

He lifted his hand and ran his palm up Rebecca’s forearm. “I’m glad you rescued her. You seem to be good for each other.”

“Jojo is one of the best things that have happened to me.” So was Adam, but she couldn’t tell him that. Not yet anyway. “When we get home she’ll have lots of kitty companions, so I’m being a little selfish with her right now.”

Adam smiled and gave the swing a gentle nudge to set it in motion. “I think being here in this peaceful place is good for both of you. When we left Fredonia you were scared and upset and on edge. You seem better.”

“I am,” she readily agreed. “Crane Landing is good for my spirit, and I’m sad that our time here is going by so quickly. That’s why I was sort of shaken earlier.”

“Don’t you want to go home?” he asked.

“Sure,” she said, but she didn’t... not yet. “This place captivated me the minute I set foot off the train. It’s going to be very hard to leave. It must have crushed you to have to come back to Fredonia.”

“My future was there. You were there. I couldn’t wait to get home to you.” He lifted a section of her hair off her shoulder and let it slide between his fingers. “How are you feeling? Honestly. Are you still having headaches?”

She shrugged. “Some, but they aren’t so bad most days.”

He pulled an envelope from his shirt pocket. “I brought you some tea. It’s a mixture of chamomile, willow bark, and valerian tea for when your head hurts or you need something to ease your nerves.” His dark eyes met hers. “I hate to think of you hurting. It nearly killed me to see you in such pain after the accident.”

“Nearly killed me too,” she said, making light of a very bad time.

He didn’t smile. She could see that his pain went too deep to find any humor in such a terrifying event. “Now that you’re healing, can you remember that day at all?”

She shook her head. The few bits of information she’d gleaned via her senses at Doc Samuel’s prodding were untrustworthy. She’d had so many bizarre thoughts since arriving that she hadn’t a clue what was real and what wasn’t.

“Are you having any memories at all?” he asked. Although his expression hadn’t changed, she heard the hopeful inflection in his voice.

“No, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I was simply asking because we haven’t talked about it in a while. You seem as if you’re growing close with Grandma and I thought maybe you were having memories of her.”

“We’re getting closer because she is a generous, loving and remarkable woman, not because I remember her.”

“Is that why we’re growing closer? Because I’m remarkable?”

He’d asked straight-faced, but Rebecca laughed knowing he was playing with her. Jojo stirred on her lap and Rebecca stroked the kitten’s back to calm her. “It’s all right, sweetie, Adam is just being ridiculous.” She looked up into his smiling eyes... and lo... he was remarkable. “Why did we wait so long to marry?” she asked, quietly. “Were we uncertain of our feelings for each other?”

He released a long, slow sigh, his eyes turning toward the river behind her as if trying to understand a universal truth. “I used to think I knew why we were waiting, but now I wonder if we weren’t just being foolish.” With a shake of his head, he swung his gaze back to her. “There is nothing I’ve wanted more in life than to marry you, and you used to feel the same way about me. I almost didn’t go to university because I couldn’t bear not seeing you every day. But I had to go. My dad gave me the Grayson name. I wanted to live up to that name and become the intelligent, confident man of integrity that he and his brothers are. I needed to earn my partnership in the family sawmill business and contribute something as well—and I needed to know I was capable of caring for you and the children we would one day have before I felt I could marry you. I couldn’t do that without a better education and gaining a broader experience of the world. If I had stayed, I would have failed myself as a man and squelched your opportunity to apprentice with Calvin Uldrich. It was extremely painful for us, but we loved each other and our family enough to make the sacrifice. We knew how good it would be when we could finally marry. But look what happened.” Again he shook his head. “In hindsight it seems utterly foolish to have forfeited our present for some idealized future. I’m so sorry I didn’t marry you at the first opportunity.”

Rebecca’s hand stilled on Jojo’s back. “Would our being married make our situation any better now?” she asked. “Instead of not knowing my intended I wouldn’t know my husband—or my children. To me, that would be even worse than where we are right now.”

“Ouch.” He released a hard breath and scraped his hair back, leaving his fingers entwined in the dark strands as he rested his elbow on the seat back. “I had never considered that before now, but you’re right. It would be far worse.”

Their eyes met.

“Do you think you can come to care for me again?” he asked, slowly rocking the swing.

“I already care for you, Adam. I had hoped you knew that by now, but I perhaps I haven’t given you much reason to know.”

A small shrug lifted his shoulders. “I feared I may be pulling you along and not be giving you a choice in the matter.”

“You’re persuasive, but I can assure you that I’m heading the same direction of my own accord.”

“Then you do have feelings for me?”

She tilted her head to better see his face. “Yes, I do.”

“Does this mean you’re remembering us?” he asked, hopefully. “Are your memories coming back?”

“No, Adam, she said, frustrated with him for not letting go of that bone and with herself because she kept wishing for what seemed impossible. “Knowing we’ve had a long, loving friendship together and that you’ve been a gentleman suitor for so many years gives me a sense of comfort I wouldn’t likely feel with another man, but that isn’t the reason I have feelings for you. My feelings are not based on memories of you or our past. They started the minute I opened my eyes and saw your face. I felt drawn to your voice and your touch. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I truly enjoy your sense of humor and the easy friendship we have. I admire your character and enjoy being with you when you’re not pushing me to remember our past.” She gave him a smile to let him know she wasn’t chastising. “At the risk of being too forthright I’ll admit that meeting you here in the dark is rather... well, it’s exciting and... and I’m very attracted to you.” Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to finish. “You occupy my thoughts a good deal of the time, but it’s not because I’m remembering you.”

Unthreading his fingers from his hair, he reached out and slipped that same hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. Gently, he tilted her face with his other hand. “This is a moment I’ll never forget,” he whispered, and drew her mouth to his. Slow and easy, he rocked the swing and kissed her.

Eyes closed, she inhaled his scent... the feel of him... his voice as he whispered words of love and longing against the shell of her ear... the warmth of his breath and his arms as he held her. She crested each swell of emotion as if she were a schooner sailing familiar waters... She had been here before. Many times. This place was theirs and she knew it well.

He lifted his mouth and traced her lips with his fingertip. “I miss kissing you like this.”

“I think I miss it too,” she whispered, making them both smile. “With you rocking me and kissing me I feel all churned up inside like an undulating ocean of waves.”

He released a quiet laugh. “You always paint the most interesting pictures with your words.”

“Did I do that before my accident?”

“Yeah,” he said, stroking her hair. “You did.”

“Then I’m not so different from before I rattled my brains?”

For a few seconds he simply studied her in silence. “You’re the same and yet... you’re different.”

“How so? How am I different?” she asked, really wanting to know.

With a shrug he laid his arm along the back of the bench. “Before your accident you were content in Fredonia. You loved spending all your time with your family and working the livery. When you talked about traveling it was about taking a train to Buffalo to see our relatives. Now... you talk about crossing the ocean.”

“Is that bad? Have I changed too much for you?”

“No.” He cupped her cheek in his palm. “I’m just... intrigued.”

“I do want to sail across an ocean someday, Adam. I want to step onto the shore on the other side and imagine what Princess Cecily must have felt when she took her first step on American soil. It’s not because I don’t want to go back to Fredonia or be with my family. It’s simply that the idea of sailing an ocean excites me in a way that makes me feel wildly alive. Do you ever feel that excitement when you look at the ocean?”

“Sure,” he said. “But I also think about the type of craft I’d sail in and how well it was built and what kind of storms it could sustain and how long it would take to cross an ocean and—”

Rebecca’s laugh cut him off. “Please stop,” she said. “You’re ruining my idea of a romantic voyage.”

As if her words rang a bell in his ear, Adam shook his head. “Sorry, my love. Getting technical is a hazard of building ships. Sailing across the Atlantic with you would indeed be romantic.”

“After seeing how beautiful it is here at Crane Landing, I want to explore more of the world. I can only imagine what we’re missing.”

“Maybe we aren’t missing anything,” he said. “Maybe all that’s important or worth seeing is right here in each other. Why not explore your past as you wish to explore the world around you?”

Surprise and disappointment punched Rebecca in the gut and she exhaled hard. She had tried exploring her past, and continued to do so each day, but that path remained blocked. She had no choice but to move forward, and that direction included her desire to see more of the world. “I thought you might be of like mind, Adam. You seem like a man who enjoys adventure and challenge and... and romance.”

“I do.” He linked hands with her. “That’s why I’m taking you for a canoe trip upriver tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty

Rebecca awakened early, eager to head upriver for the picnic Adam promised her.

Up with the sunrise, she dressed in a sleeveless camisole, a belted day skirt of royal blue, matching waist-length fitted jacket with frog enclosures, and a crisp white blouse. Knowing they would be moving along the riverbank later in the day, she opted for a pair of low-heeled, high-topped shoes made of calfskin. She piled her long hair atop her head and secured it with several pins.

As she headed for the kitchen, she thought of Princess Cecily. Had the young royal been at odds with her past and her future as she walked these floors, just as Rebecca was now? Despite being eager to see Adam, Rebecca was also hesitant. Her attraction to him could not be questioned—she was drawn to her handsome suitor. She thoroughly enjoyed their lively conversations and his playful flirting. She even enjoyed their stolen kisses and the warmth of his arms. He was assaulting her senses from all sides and making her world spin, jumbling her thoughts.

But he was also heading back instead of forward.

When Adam was near, he surrounded her with his presence as a mainsail surrounded a mast pole, guiding her in whatever direction he decided to turn.

She needed to be able to think clearly and decide her own direction. If only her thoughts were clear, setting her course would be so much easier. But her thoughts were odd and... frightening because she didn’t understand them. Some of her thoughts were too irrational to be real memories, just as the woman on the beach was too different to be real. That concerned her in the deepest part of her being and made her question everything—including her mental stability.

With a shake of her head Rebecca drove out the upsetting thoughts and entered the spacious kitchen. It was quite cool at this early hour, but she loved the room. As she gazed out the large window above the sink, she inhaled the scents of hickory and dried sage that permeated the kitchen. A waist-high work table of white oak and two ladder-back chairs took up one side of the room while the mammoth cook stove commandeered the other. Several braided rugs added a cozy touch, as did the shelves lined with colorful tins, which held teas, sugar and coffee. A small coffee mill sat atop the work table.

Since Adam had promised to arrive early enough to treat them to breakfast at the inn, Rebecca was spared the task of lighting the huge stove and managing the hot plates. She took a small bottle of milk from the icebox that Adam had generously replenished with ice yesterday evening. She poured some in a dish for Jojo, who was busy batting a small ball of yarn around the table and chair legs. In another dish Rebecca shredded tiny pieces of chicken from the baked breasts they had for their dinner the previous evening. “Come on, little tiger. This should fill your belly until I return.”

As Jojo devoured her breakfast, Rebecca crossed the kitchen.

A rugged oak door with a latch handle led to the scullery. She stepped down into the dark room and paused to let her eyes adjust. It was mostly used for boiling water and doing laundry and so it sat lower than the rest of the house. Its brick floor slanted toward the back exit, which led to the water well the princess must have utilized. The slop stone sink, located next to the outside wall, slanted to one angle as well so that waste water flowed to the soil pipe that threaded its way out back. Rebecca could only imagine how busy the princess must have been, caring for her young brother and tending chores on her own. And yet she had flourished here. Somehow the princess had found a way to overcome all the heartache of her past and claim her future as her own.

But had she ever questioned her own sanity?

Pushing away the thought, Rebecca moved through the scullery and headed out the back door. The day’s first rays of sunlight greeted her as did the chatter of several red-wing blackbirds that had nested in the eave directly above her head. While she waited for Adam to arrive, she roamed the back garden for a short while, wondering what vegetables would soon push from the loamy earth and thinking still about a princess from a faraway time whose journey was not so very different from her own.

o0o

As the waiter at the Beacon Inn served up hearty portions of porridge, ham, eggs, baked beans with maple syrup, Rebecca sipped her hot tea and chatted with her breakfast mates. She surprised herself by eating a second helping of ham and thoroughly enjoyed herself. The inn’s cook packed them a picnic lunch to compliment the trout Adam planned to catch, and within the hour, Rebecca, Adam, Grandma and Dawson headed up Crane River in two birch bark canoes.

Rebecca rode with Adam in one canoe—he in the stern seat and she in the bow seat—while her grandmother and Dawson managed the second canoe.

Once they were above the rapids, the gentle sunrise Rebecca had enjoyed in the garden bloomed into an absolutely beautiful day to be on the river. The sky, filled with fat and fluffy clouds, blazed a brilliant blue and reflected everywhere atop the smooth river waters.

Rebecca left her parasol in the bottom of the canoe and tossed her riding hat down atop it. She’d have unpinned her hair and let it fly with the breeze as well, but decided she shouldn’t totally abandon her good manners no matter how much she longed to do so. Opening the enclosures of her jacket, she allowed herself to relax and enjoy watching the passing scenery as Adam rowed them north with a steady, strong rhythm.

It felt wonderful to feel so free... to be away from the expectant glances she’d suffered in Fredonia. Though people there cared for her and cared about her recovery, and Rebecca genuinely appreciated their kindness and concern, she detested being the object of their scrutiny—and their pity. The townspeople there were strangers to her... just as those of Crane Landing. But in Crane Landing, no one knew any more about her than she did about them. There were no expectations. Her life was a clean slate here—as clean as the river that surrounded her.

She could flow as the river flowed, without resistance... without effort. Maybe crossing an ocean and seeing more of the world wasn’t about her being adventurous. Maybe she was just scared of going back home, of struggling to remember or having to relearn so much of her life. Going back was too hard.

Trout rose up and out of the water, snapping flies from the air and creating circles that radiated outward in the river once the fish dove back down.

Twice Rebecca spied moose at the water’s edge. One huge bull moose with a spread of antlers wider than even Adam’s arm span, lifted its head and let out a deep, long call. She held her breath at the startling sight—and the sound that resonated in her chest—for the animal was larger than her mare and far too close for comfort.

Adam laughed at her reaction. “Magnificent creatures, aren’t they?” he asked from behind her, pausing in his paddling to allow Rebecca a moment longer of viewing the moose.

“Indeed,” she murmured, awestruck. She glanced back at Adam over one shoulder, and sent him a smile. “I had no idea I’d love this so much.”

“I knew you would.” A smile tilted his lips and he winked at her... and oh... her chest felt as if the moose had blared long and low all over again. Her cheeks heated and her belly twirled as if she were riding a series of large waves. But the river was calm. It was Adam who made her feel this wonderful thrilling rush. She turned her face back to the river ahead of her and did her best to breathe.

She could feel his gaze on her as she spoke over her shoulder. “It’s not fair that you know so much about me. It gives you a huge advantage.”

“Would most women not consider it a good thing that a man knew her deepest desires?” he asked.

Her lips quirked and she couldn’t hold back her smile. “That knowledge can be used against said woman just as easily.”

“Agreed,” he openly admitted. “That’s why it will do a woman well to carefully assess a suitor’s character. Mine happens to be spotless as are my intentions toward you.”

Her laugh rang over the river, causing her grandmother and Dawson to glance in her direction. Unmindful of their questioning smiles, she turned to see Adam. “Are you declaring yourself, Adam?”

He shook his head. “I did that years ago, Rebecca.”

“Oh...” She found herself speechless as her gaze locked with his.

“Do you think I based your love of boating on our past?” he asked.

She gave him a small nod. “I did, yes, but I suppose the answer is no and that I’ve insulted you.”

“You’re half right. You have always loved rowing the creek and along the lake shore. I knew that. But I also know how you enjoy the beauty of this place and how each thing you discover, however small, thrills you. That’s why I thought you would enjoy paddling upriver today. What you’re wrong about is that you insulted me. We’ve always been honest with each other and I want that to continue.”

She sat speechless again, but this time it was from the swell of emotion that filled her. As if a wave had crossed their bow, she felt herself rocked by his tenderness and his strength.

She could grow accustomed to that warm and tender side of him that elicited her trust and encouraged intimacy with him. The capable honorable man who rowed them along the river with surety and ease was taking them where he wanted to go, and she was losing her battle to resist.

He held too much power over her.

“I must man the oars of my life.”

He cocked his head in question. “What?”

Realizing she’d declared herself aloud, Rebecca lifted her chin. “I shall row for a spell.”

“That’s not necessary,” he said, wearing a smile that said he was entertained by her offer.

She swiveled her knees right and twisted her torso around to better see him. The canoe rocked, but Adam, steadied it with a slight shift of his torso. “I’m quite capable,” she said.

“I know. You’ve rowed plenty of times during our treks along Canadaway. I’m simply protecting that lovely dress of yours from getting soiled. Rowing can be sweaty work.”

“Oh...” She hadn’t thought of that. “Well, all right, but I shall direct us.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” he said, and he did until they came to a small fork in the river. “If we take that little jaunt left we’ll end up right back in this main body of the river but a half mile past Petticoat Landing. My arms are telling me to stay right.”

Laughing, Rebecca said, “By all means you should listen to your arms.”

“I agree,” he said, dropping his voice as if to keep the conversation between them. “They’re telling me they ache to hold you.”

She didn’t turn around, didn’t even dare to glance back at him.

Adam navigated their way around a small series of shallows and rocks. He did so with ease, just like he did everything.

No matter how she scoured her brain for something to talk about, she couldn’t think of a word.

So they remained silent until they arrived at Petticoat Landing, which was a favored landing for the lumbermen who would skid the logs out of the woods each winter and then float them downriver during the spring freshet.

“We won’t head back into the hollow to my fishing hole,” he said into the silence. “It’s too far of a trek for Grandma to endure. We’ll just picnic here at Petticoat Landing.

As soon as they stepped onto the landing, Dawson began gathering wood for a fire while their grandmother cleared a small area to lay out a square of linen upon which to unpack the contents of the wicker picnic basket. Adam, a fishing pole in one hand and a tackle basket looped about his chest, motioned Rebecca to follow him along a path that snaked alongside the river’s edge.

“Do you like trout?” he asked, as if he hadn’t a clue what she liked, although he must certainly remember.

Rebecca grinned. “I’ve no idea. Feed me some and I’ll let you know.”

“Well, first I’ll have to catch you some.”

“Is that a problem?” she teased, feeling playful and a bit daring today.

“I hope not. I should hate to disappoint my lady,” he said, and that stop-her-heart smile of his was back in play.

They walked together upriver, moving easily over uneven terrain, Adam pointing out a protruding tree root here or there or the presence of poison ivy or sumac. Though the air was alive with a host of flying insects, the black flies were not so bothersome and the other flies proved only to be a help in indicating to Adam what type of fly he should attach to the end of his fishing line.

He led Rebecca to a large flat rock that jutted out from the land into the river. Above it was a massive oak tree, its limbs ancient and curved over the water below. Its roots went deep into the ground and no doubt offered cover for the trout far below the waterline.

Rebecca felt her own roots reaching deep into the rich soil at Crane Landing. She was growing here. She was still a sapling vulnerable to strong winds and harsh conditions, but she knew one day she would stand tall and strong if she remained here.

Adam climbed atop the rock first, deposited his fishing gear there, and then he turned to help Rebecca up. The top of the rock was surprisingly smooth and held more than a few natural indentations that made a perfect perch for her. To her left, a shiny black mink the size of a house cat slid into the water from the river’s bank, while farther out in the water a river otter swam by.

As she settled into a comfy spot on the warm rock, happiness settled into her day. She couldn’t think of a single place she’d rather be or a single person she’d rather spend the day with than Adam.

She watched Adam keenly observe the water and a long length of riverbank to either side of them.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Planning my strategy. I must do this right to catch you a trout or two.”

“Oh. I thought you just dropped the hook in the water and you’d catch a fish.”

Adam laughed, the sound of it warming her from the inside out. “That would be enough if you were fishing for me,” he said, hunkering down on the edge of the rock, elbows resting on his knees, his strong hands making a steeple under his chin. “But for me to catch one of those smart trout I’ve got to replicate the flies that are flitting across the top of the water. Then I must make the fly move just-so, enticing a trout to want to eat it.”

“Goodness. Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Not work, but skill,” he said. “All it takes is patience... and respect for the fish and for the fly.”

He flipped open the wicker tackle box and set to work. Inside of it were all manner of hooks and feathers and fishing lines. With nothing more than the skill of his fingers he fashioned a hand-tied fly that looked remarkably like several of the flies Rebecca spied skimming the surface of the water. He affixed the intricate fly to the end of the fishing line, and then stood.

Looking back he noted where Rebecca was seated. “Don’t want to catch you with the hook and send you sailing into the river.”

She laughed and pretended to take shelter beneath her hat.

He stood for a moment just looking at her. “I love you like this. I’ve missed that playful side of you.” He turned his attention to the water below.

Surprised by his comment, Rebecca sat somewhat bewildered. She had a playful side? Was she beginning to act more like her old self? If so, was that a good thing? Or was this her new self emerging and was it that side of her that was capturing his attention?

With his strong right arm, Adam managed the fishing rod and the fly at the end of it with amazing agility, laying the fly down onto the surface of the water as though it was an insect just landing there. And then he flicked it up and off the water only to lay it down again, over and over while his words circled Rebecca’s mind. I love you like this... I love you... I love you...

And she knew with certainty that he did. Deeply. Passionately. Faithfully.

The knowledge lifted her heart into the fluffy white cloud passing overhead. As it floated by it cast a shadow upon the water—and there Rebecca saw beneath the surface of the water to the rocky river bed and tangle of grass and weed below that had snared Adam’s hook and line. Was she river grass in Adam’s life? Would she nourish the river of their life together? Or would her errant mind create a tangled mess that Adam couldn’t negotiate, that would slowly take over and deaden their stream of beautiful emotions and love?

“Are you falling asleep?” Adam asked, grinning as if he’d caught her drowsing.

Feigning boredom, she sighed dramatically. “I’ve been waiting so long for you to catch anything that I suppose I must have nodded off.”

His warm gentle laughter poured over her like welcome sunshine on a cool day. His light pulled her away from her dark thoughts, and she went willingly.

A trout surfaced and took the bait.

The trout’s jaw seemed to snap as it closed around the handmade insect and hook—but maybe it was her mind shutting the door on her endless stream of worry.

Adam grinned her way as he reeled in his catch. “Your wait is over, my lady. You can wake up now.”

“I’ll be impressed if you can do that again,” she said, returning his grin.

“How many fish would impress you enough to reward me with a kiss?” he asked.

“Two might sway me.” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying.

“Two it is then.”

“Oh, gracious, I answered without thinking,” she said, her face burning with embarrassment.

He grinned. “You answered honestly, and I like that.”

“How do you so easily lead me away from my manners?” she asked.

He wagged his eyebrows. “Years of practice.”

She glanced down river letting the breeze cool her cheeks.

Her grandmother and Dawson were sitting on the linen square laughing and so engaged with one another that the river and Rebecca were apparently long forgotten. Their easy laughter and lack of pretense was refreshing and... beautiful. They were honest in their friendship and enjoyment of each other. Adam was the same in his manner. Rebecca didn’t have to guess or posture with him, and yet she did at times—and it was at those times she felt the most uncomfortable and... untruthful. But sometimes she felt a need to shield him from her real self.

She watched Adam fish and wrestled with her thoughts.

By the time she and Adam returned to the landing, they had five trout inside Adam’s basket that he’d cleaned and dressed at the river’s edge—and Rebecca owed him two kisses.

Dawson had a fire burned down to white embers and Rebecca’s grandmother had an apron-full of wild strawberries that she’d washed in the river. As Adam cooked the fish over the hot coals, Rebecca settled down atop a blanket beside him and set out the contents of the basket the inn had prepared for them.

Stealing glances at Adam, she watched him closely. She liked the sight of his strong hands and how his wavy hair curled just below the collar of his shirt. She liked the scent of him, too, all woodsy and fresh, like he was a part of the earth.

He’d talked of patience today as he’d fished for trout. Had he navigated the lay of the land and waited patiently for the trout to take the bait he’d cast? Was he doing the same with her? She felt herself being tempted by his promises and reeled into his strong arms. Should she fight the hook or see what he’d do with her once he caught her?

The baked trout was delicious. Adam cleaned the bones from the meat and gave her the most succulent pieces. When a bite fell from her fork, he was there to catch the piece and spare her pretty skirt. “Thank you,” she said, letting him know with her eyes that she was thanking him for more than the fish. “This is one of the loveliest days I’ve had yet.”

“I suspect it’s the same for all of us,” he said, gesturing with his chin to where their grandmother and Dawson were now strolling the river’s edge. “Do you think they’re courting?”

Rebecca observed them for several minutes before she shook her head. “I think they’ve each found a very dear friend that they have both desperately needed.” She looked at Adam. “As have I,” she whispered.

He leaned in and placed a tender kiss on her lips. “I will always be your friend, Rebecca... and I will always love you.” He stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “I plan to collect the other kiss you owe me when we’re alone.” He gave her a playful wink.

She released a laugh of surprise, but felt breathless and excited and a little scared because this man was carrying her out to sea as swiftly as a schooner in a strong wind, and she had nothing to hang onto but him.

Hours later their foursome packed up the canoes and headed back to Crane Landing. Despite the joy in her day, sadness also claimed a part of it. If the memories she had shared with Adam were even half as sweet as their time together at Petticoat Landing she had lost far more than she had imagined.

As Adam navigated the rocky rapids and paddled them downriver for home, Rebecca’s thoughts turned to Princess Cecily. The woman had no choice but to create a future here. She had recorded her life and trials in a diary that Rebecca longed to read. Somehow Rebecca would rebuild her own life and make peace with the knowledge that she may never recover her lost memories. But oh, memories she’d made with Adam Grayson could only be spectacular moments and something she desperately wanted back.

She pivoted atop her seat and glanced back at her grandmother. The woman had raised a family and buried a husband. She had faced hardship and heartache, and yet she could still laugh with ease. In Grandma’s eyes, life was filled with possibilities and precious moments. Though she could not undo the sadness of the past, she did not fret the future. She lived now. Here. In this moment.

Rebecca turned her gaze to Adam. She watched as the muscles of his arms bunched and flexed with every stroke of the paddle. He worked with skill and ease: down into the water with one hard push back; then a slight jog of the paddle to keep the bow moving straight ahead. After a couple of minutes he would switch to the other side of the canoe and repeat the motions on the left side. That’s how he approached life, she was learning. He studied it and made his best choices and then he executed whatever hard push he needed to take him in the direction he wanted to go.

She needed to do the same.

But how could she move forward with her mind full of broken images and strange thoughts? How could she move forward with Adam when all he wanted to do was go back?

Chapter Twenty-one

As summer blossomed, Rebecca enjoyed casual suppers on the back porch where her grandmother and Adam and Dawson Crane seemed to prefer eating. They talked about their day and the upcoming Independence Day dance at the grange. They laughed at Jojo’s antics. Some evenings they played lawn croquet together, sometimes with Mary and Leo, and playfully taunted and flirted with each other. Jojo loved chasing the croquet balls, which brought them all to laughter many times during their lively matches. Late at night, Rebecca would meet Adam on the porch where they would snuggle on the swing and talk about their past and future, and share their revelations and dreams. Rebecca couldn’t remember all the happy times in her life, but she knew this was one of them.

Although she missed her beautiful mare and her family, she knew she needed this time in the peaceful town of Crane Landing. She needed to get her legs beneath her before she could step back into the midst of siblings and memories and village filled with friends and neighbors who swirled around her like a swift moving stream.

The days passed far too quickly—and each one began and ended with Adam.

Every morning he would leave a special something at Rebecca’s doorstep before heading to work, and in the evening he would join her and Grandma for supper. Tuesday’s gift had been a sprig of wildflowers twined about a small wreath of twiglets. A dark honeycomb tucked inside a wooden box served as Wednesday’s gift, while Thursday’s surprise was Adam himself.

“G’morning,” he said as she opened the door not long after sunrise.

Expecting a small present on the stoop and not a tall, muscled man standing in wait for her, Rebecca sucked in a startled breath and gaped at him. “Adam! You gave me a fright!”

“Exactly the opposite of what I’d intended. I’m sorry, Rebecca.”

She self-consciously smoothed one hand over her bed-tousled hair as her other hand grabbed at the enclosure of her dressing gown. “What are you doing here?”

He grinned in appreciation. “You are so beautiful.” His voice, quiet and filled with love, seemed to enfold her and seal them inside a sacred space where only the two of them existed. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said. “I didn’t even intend to be at the door when you opened it. I just... Wait a minute,” he said, glancing up at the morning sky. “I’m not late for work, right? The sun did just rise, didn’t it?”

Rebecca couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Adam,” she said, “the sun just rose, and yet here I am, wide awake, having rushed out of bed and down the steps to see if you had been here.” She shrugged. “To find you here was more than I’d anticipated.”

“Ah,” he murmured. “So you like my gifts?”

Rebecca felt her heart tremble at the way his voice dropped a note, as if it pleased him deeply to know that she anticipated his daily offerings. With pure honesty she said, “I love that you find such beauty in simple things and that you share those things with me, Adam.”

“And I love that you receive them with such anticipation and joy.”

A moment of silence stirred between them, punctuating the strong truth of their words.

The sun’s light cast him in soft gold hues. “Today’s gift is in my pocket. I was just about to lay it atop the stoop when you opened the door. If you go back inside, I’ll put it there for you to find once I’m gone.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I want to receive it from you, Adam, while you’re here with me.”

Though her words were just a whisper, the meaning behind them held all the force of the river they’d navigated just a few days ago. Whether Adam realized it or not, Rebecca was trying to tell him that while she couldn’t remember their past, she knew they were connected, that she acknowledged their easy friendship and their fiery attraction. And she was growing more certain by the day that she wanted to experience their future together, side by side.

“I didn’t realize how much you were enjoying these simple favors I’ve been leaving on your stoop,” he said.

“Since my accident, I’ve learned that gifts come wrapped and unwrapped, expected and unexpected, but they never leave a person the same way they found them. Your gifts move me, Adam.”

A smile curved his lips. “Knowing that brightens my day.” He reached his right hand into the pocket of his dark dungarees. When he withdrew it, his right fist was closed around the secret in his palm. “I have something special for you today.” He wiggled his fist. “I’ll bet you’re dying to know what it is.”

A light bubble of laughter rose in her throat. “You tease! You’re enjoying this. You’re truly going to make me wait for this, aren’t you?”

With a playful laugh, he unfolded his fingers to reveal a handcrafted dragonfly.

Rebecca drew in a breath. He’d made a simple fish hook into beautiful art using feathers and fibers and turns of thread. He’d fashioned a pin for her, she realized finally—an exquisite green dragonfly pin, with peacock herl as its tail.

“Oh, Adam. It’s beautiful.”

“I thought it would remind you of our fishing trip.”

“It does.” She nodded. “It will. Always.”

“I’d pin it on you, but...”

She drew her hands to her throat, gathering tight the material of her nightdress. “I’ll just take it for now and you can pin it on my dress during tomorrow night’s dance.”

“I can hardly wait.” The deep, warm sound of his voice drew her mind to their late night meetings on her back porch where they shared their most intimate thoughts in warm whispers. Gently, he drew her right hand away from her gown, carefully placed the dragonfly in her palm, and then he closed her fingers over the pin. “Consider yourself forewarned that I plan to be your only partner for tomorrow’s Independence Day soiree.”

“Perhaps it is you who should be warned, Adam. I don’t even know if... Do I know how to dance?”

Adam leaned close, cupping her cheek as he gazed into her eyes. “Rebecca, darling, you were born to dance. I plan to show you just how much you love the act tomorrow evening.”

“You make it sound simple, Adam.”

“Not so much simple as artless, natural. That’s really what I mean. Just close your eyes and feel the music. I’ll take you the rest of the way.”

That’s what he did at night when they met alone on her back porch. She would close her eyes and drink in his scent and the sound of his voice as he drew her into his arms and talked to her and rekindled their loving connection.

She blew out a breath. “I suppose I must trust you on this.”

Adam cocked his head to one side, his eyes narrowing. “Have I given you a reason not to trust me?” he asked.

She shook her head and met his eyes. “No, Adam. I know I can trust you. I’m just nervous I’ll have two left feet and embarrass both of us.”

Shaking his head, he gathered her into his arms and held her against his chest. “You have beautiful feet and you float across a dance floor like a milkweed puff on a soft breeze.” He stroked her back sending comforting warmth down her spine. “Dancing is liberating and healing, Rebecca.” He eased back, tilted her chin and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. “Trust me on this.”

His sincerity made her smile. “All right, Adam. I will.”

“Thank you.” Growing businesslike, he set her away from him. “I won’t be able to stop by tomorrow morning. I’m leading the crew that will set the flagpole at the Grange hall.”

“I understand,” she said. “Dawson has offered to drive grandmother and me to the flag-raising ceremony, so I’ll see you there. How does that sound?”

“Like a moment I don’t want to miss.”

Rebecca held her dragonfly pin close to her heart. “Thank you, Adam. I can’t think of a nicer way to start my day than seeing you.”

“And I can’t think of a better way to end my night than with you in my arms. Marry me and you can see my smiling face every morning.” With a wink, he tipped his cap and then turned and headed down the shelled walk.

Was he toying with her or had he just asked her, again, to marry him? Stunned, Rebecca watched as Adam strode down River Road, his long legs and sure gait confident and determined as if he knew exactly where he wanted to go. But with Rebecca, he was walking into a situation blind. He didn’t know about the snarl of irrational thoughts growing like weeds in her mind.

Exhaling a hard breath, Rebecca warned herself to not overreact. Adam had simply been flirting with her—and she enjoyed it. So what if her thoughts were disturbing? She’d taken a hard knock to her head and was entitled to periodic confusion. That didn’t mean she was unstable or unsuitable. It just meant she was... well, she was just... a mess.

Huffing out a breath, Rebecca lingered in the doorway watching the sun’s light flash gold in the wings of her dragonfly. She wanted wings of her own. She wanted to face the wind, spread her wings and soar into life. Adam would keep her tethered to her old life, the one where there was no question of them being together. Rebecca wanted to fly with Adam, but she couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t spread his wings.

The world around her was too exciting to be land-bound. There were rivers to canoe and oceans to cross. She wanted her life to flow like the Crane River, pounding down mountains and through valleys and eventually, when she got to the end of her life, she wanted to flow into the ocean, spread her arms, and die with her fingers touching two continents.

o0o

By Friday morning, Rebecca had calmed down and was excited for the Independence Day activities to begin. She finished the letter she’d begun writing to her mother and father and then poured herself another cup of tea. She had gotten an unusually good night of rest and was eager to see Adam.

“It’s good to hear you sing again, sweetheart,” her grandmother said, rinsing her hands in the sink. Drying them on a towel, she turned to Rebecca. “I take it you’re looking forward to the day as much as I am?”

“Perhaps more so,” Rebecca answered as she fetched a large bowl for the dish they would take to the crazy supper. “It’s shameful and shallow, perhaps, but I’m looking forward to wearing my new dress.”

“It’s lovely and you’ll look beautiful in it.”

“So is yours, Grandma. Dawson is going to be thoroughly smitten with you today.”

“Bosh,” Grandma said draping the towel over a small iron hook, but her cheeks flushed and she was unable to hide her pleased smile. “I’m too old to look beautiful in anything.”

“Not true.” Rebecca swept her grandmother into a quick hug. “Your light shines so bright it captivates everyone the instant they meet you.” She gently turned her grandmother toward the parlor. “You rest while I finish up in here. It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Laughing, her grandmother obeyed. “Thank you, honey. It will feel nice to get off my feet for a spell before Dawson arrives.

Humming to herself, Rebecca continued with her chores. She suspected if she were home with her brothers and sisters they would tease her about her off-key singing, but she couldn’t help herself. From the moment she woke, she felt lighthearted and nearly danced her way through her morning’s work. She would be spending the whole day with Adam and their grandmother and their friends. The night wouldn’t end until after the fireworks display.

Canoeing and fishing with Adam had brought fun and excitement to her days. She enjoyed their supper conversations and croquet matches and evening walks. She enjoyed their late night private meetings too much. But knowing she would dance in his arms this evening left her breathless with anticipation.

Perhaps she loved to dance and was simply excited about that. Maybe it was the thought of wearing her beautiful new dress that made her happy. She and Grandma and Mary Crane had spent a lovely day lunching and shopping for dresses a week earlier after Rebecca’s visit with Doc Samuel. There were two readymade dresses that Rebecca had loved, but Mary helped her make the right choice. In hindsight Rebecca wondered how she could have considered the blue gown when the white silk moiré was so perfect for her. She wouldn’t wear it today though. There would be time between supper and the start of the soiree to change from picnic wear to evening wear, and that’s when she would don the flowing white dress that made her feel like a princess.

Rebecca closed her eyes, imagining the feel of Adam’s arms as he twirled her across the dance floor. She basked in the romantic thought and envisioned their many moments to come. While she and Adam had enjoyed time together throughout their stay in Crane Landing, today would be different. They would have hours and hours together... and more than a few opportunities to converse and play and even flirt a little. A dart of excitement shot through her as she rushed to her room to prepare for the day.

A few hours later, she sat beneath the fringed canopy of Dawson’s platform spring wagon, heading for the Grange hall. As Dawson found a spot in line with the other carriages, Rebecca saw that a crowd of people had already gathered on the lawn. They watched as a small knot of men finished maneuvering a large flagpole into the ground with ropes and pulleys and a lot of brawn.

At the moment, Adam seemed to be in charge. Dressed in a crisp white shirt and trousers, his shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms, Adam managed the rope and wood with ease. He called out commands and kept all hands working in tandem—and when the large wooden staff was finally set, he let out a big whoop of success.

The other men joined in with their own whoops and a lot of backslapping.

Enamored of him, Rebecca stepped down from Dawson’s carriage, her eyes drinking in the sight of his handsome smiling face.

When he spied her, his eyes lit up and his smile widened, conveying so much: I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you. You’re beautiful... Unrolling his sleeves, he grabbed his jacket from a nearby chair back and scooped up his straw boater hat with its stylish blue striped band. He set the hat atop his head with a quick flick of his wrist and then threaded his way toward Rebecca.

They met in a splash of sunshine. People milled about them and carriages continued to arrive at the Grange, but Rebecca and Adam existed alone in that slant of summer sun, their eyes on each other.

“It felt as if you’d never get here,” he said. “You look lovely.”

Rebecca returned his flirtatious smile. “And you look utterly dashing today, Mr. Grayson.”

“Why thank you, my lady,” he said, swiping off his hat and executing a quick and very clumsy curtsy that made Rebecca laugh.

“You’ll need to work on that if you hope to impress anyone,” she said, still giggling.

“My goal was to make you laugh, at which I succeeded remarkably well, so you have just witnessed my first and last curtsy.”

“I certainly hope so,” she said, trying to stop the giggles Adam had brought on with his ridiculous playacting.

“I love your laugh,” he said, drinking her in within his warm and appreciative gaze.

She would like to have lingered there and banter and play with him, but their grandmother and Dawson were standing behind them and they were surrounded by a crowd of people. “That’s quite the flagpole,” she said, motioning to the staff that stood proudly in the ground in front of the Grange.

“I cut it myself at the mill this week.” He tipped his head, as if to share a secret with her. “Leo might have helped a little.”

Rebecca laughed. “Where is he, by the way?”

“Picking up Mary. They’ll be here for the flag-raising ceremony, which will happen in a few minutes.” He drew himself up and offered her his right arm. “Until then, Miss Grayson, may I show you around the tallest flagpole in town, soon to hold our country’s newest flag?”

Rebecca slid her gloved hand into the crook of his arm, happy to have him escort her anywhere. With him in his suit and she dressed in white with a turquoise sash about her waist and a matching band about her summer hat, Rebecca envisioned them as a married couple out for a daylong event. The idea pleased her so much it stunned her. She wanted to be his wife.

Adam proudly explained how he and Leo had carefully chosen the wood for the mast and then had shaped it with precision. They’d delivered the flagstaff early this morning to the Grange hall and had dug the deep hole for it.

“You boys work well together,” Rebecca said, admiring the tall sturdy pole as she reined her thoughts.

“Everybody works together here, like a family... like we Graysons do back home.”

“It’s nice. It makes a person realize they could be at home here,” she said, dropping a hint that they could build a life here, that they could remain connected to their family in Fredonia while also creating another family right here.

But Adam didn’t seem to notice her words because he spied Leo and Mary arriving and waved them over.

“Do you ever think about that?” Rebecca asked.

“About what?” Adam chuckled as Leo pantomimed exaggerated surprise at seeing the flagpole hoisted without his help.

“Do you ever think about staying here... permanently, I mean?”

Adam’s gaze immediately snapped to hers. “Here? No. We have a home in Fredonia awaiting our return.”

“Then you’ve never considered it?”

“No. You weren’t here,” he said simply.

“I am now,” she countered softly.

A host of questions gathered in his eyes, but Leo’s and Mary’s arrival interrupted anything Adam might have said.

Leo hooked one strong arm around Adam’s shoulders and mock wrestled him. “Nice work on the flagpole. Other than being a little crooked, I’d say you did a good job of getting it upright. Think it’ll stand up to a stiff breeze?”

Adam laughed and slid out of Leo’s loose hold. “That flagstaff is arrow straight and sturdy as a tree, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I do,” Leo said, his admiration for Adam’s work ringing in his words.

A bugle call quieted everyone and pulled the crowd’s attention to the middle of the lawn where several dignitaries had gathered about the flagpole, including the Crane brothers—Elias, Ezra, and Dawson, all of whom had served in the War Between the States. Men doffed their hats and pressed them against their left shoulders as everyone turned to face the Stars and Stripes. The Crane family had purchased the new flag, which arrived in late June, so it was only fitting that Elias Crane held the privilege of taking hold of the halyard and raising the new flag. First, though, he talked of liberty and freedom and justice. He spoke of service, honor, and perseverance, and how a country is strongest in community.

Then, in the sacred silence, Elias raised the twenty-first flag of the United States of America. It snapped in the breeze above the heads of men, women and children who honored the flag and all it stood for.

“It has been thirteen years since a new flag has been created for our country,” Elias said to the gathered crowd. “I am deeply honored to raise our new flag here at Crane Landing.”

“Did you know that?” Adam whispered to Rebecca.

“Can’t say as I recall,” she whispered back, giving him a playful look to remind him about her memory loss.

Adam tipped her an apologetic grin. “Of course you don’t remember. I’m sorry.” He reached out and caught her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm.

Elias continued speaking to the crowd. “Five new stars have been added to the canton of our flag. These indicate the last of the Northwest Territories to become states, which did so in the past year. Let us give a warm welcome to Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, and Washington.”

The crowd cheered, and Rebecca’s eyes misted as a single shot was fired and then the call of the bugle sounded one last time. Its haunting tune carried out across the lawns and off to the ocean.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, moved to tears.

Adam, with his own eyes misty, nodded as the crowd around them erupted into cheers again for country and flag and a day to celebrate both.

The picnic began immediately following the flag-raising service. Grandma went with Dawson and the other Crane men to find their wives while Adam escorted Rebecca across the grounds. Barrels of iced tea and lemonade stood in the shade, while every table boasted a myriad assortment of fruits, vegetables, and baked goods. The scent of roasted meat filled the air as two fire pits were kept stocked with all manner of wild game, chicken and beef skewered on roasting spits.

Nearby, a group of young girls tossed Graces hoops to each other, with the pink and white ribbons that adorned the hoops fluttering in the air. A number of teens played shuttlecock, while some rambunctious boys eyed the stacks of bats and pyramid of baseballs that Adam, Leo, and their friends would use for an afternoon of baseball.

“I’ll join you fellas soon,” Adam promised the eager lads. Then he set up a game of lawn croquet for Rebecca, Mary, Leo, and himself.

Rebecca didn’t need to be reminded how to hit the ball through the wickets and what counted as points because she was the reigning champ of their foursome. Despite Adam’s flirting and blatant attempts to distract her, it didn’t take her long to lead the game and outplay all of her opponents.

Twirling her mallet over one shoulder, she asked, “Shall we play again?” They all groaned, setting her off into a fit of laughter. “I’m jesting! I’m parched and in need of a glass of lemonade.”

“Me, too,” Mary said.

“I’m ready to eat. I’m ravenous,” Adam said, nipping Rebecca’s earlobe.

She gasped and clapped a hand over her ear, embarrassed by his overt display of affection. It was one thing to cuddle and kiss on her porch in the dark of night, but quite another to do so in the midst of a crowd on a sunny day. “Remember yourself, Mr. Grayson,” she said, trying to sound stern, but her breathless giggle merely encouraged his laughter.

She’d no sooner said the words than Adam hooked his arm around her waist and swept her off toward the food tables. They filled their plates and wandered to a nearby picnic table set back in the shade. Sipping lemonade and chatting, they lingered for a long time, enjoying the hearty meal and their deepening friendship.

From the distance rose a male chant of “Let’s-play-ball! Let’s-play-baaall!”

“Sounds like your game is about to start,” Rebecca said. “Go on. I’ll come and cheer for you.”

“I’d rather sit here with you,” Adam said.

“Is that the first lie you’ve ever told me, or were there others?” she asked, and then smiled, which eventually made him smile, and before she knew it, he leaned in and stole a kiss.

“It’s not a lie. Being with you trumps everything,” he said, “but I will admit to being a little in love with baseball as well.”

Shaking her head, Rebecca sent him on his way with Leo, who was already standing and rolling up his shirt sleeves.

“Come on, Adam,” Leo said. “Get the stars out of your eyes and your head in the game.”

The baseball games were fun and competitive, with Adam’s and Leo’s team playing almost as good as the Boston Beaneaters and the Brooklyn Bridegrooms. Rebecca and Mary, sitting side by side beneath their sunshades and enjoying too much lemonade throughout the game, cheered the loudest as each of the men ran across the makeshift home plate. Hours later Adam made a grand slam in the final inning, bringing Leo, John Davis, Micah Crane, and himself to home and winning the competition.

Afterward, in high spirits, the foursome strolled the grounds and took a leisurely walk to the beach. Once there the couples headed in opposite directions to afford one another a bit of privacy.

“I’m surprised you and Mary watched the whole match,” Adam said. “I’d have thought you might inspect the tables of crafts or converse with the women folk.”

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“I can never take my eyes off you,” Adam quipped.

“I’m serious,” she said, stopping to face him. “You’re really talented. It was fun to watch. Baseball was much more exciting than the crafts or conversation I would have found at the pavilion.”

“In that regard you haven’t changed at all, Rebecca.”

“Is my preference for excitement undesirable? There were plenty of other ladies watching the game.”

Adam laughed and picked a thin stone out of the sand. “I love your penchant for excitement and adventure,” he said. “If we were married I’d show you just how much I like it.” He tossed the stone into the ocean. It skipped twice before it sank.

A thrill zipped through Rebecca and her face burned. Adam was a gentleman in every sense of the word, but sometimes he utterly shocked her with the boldness of his comments. “Have we always flirted so openly?” she asked, her gaze focused on the vast body of water because she was unable to meet his eyes while asking such a pointed question.

“If you view playing and being honest about our feelings an act of flirting, then yes we have.” He took her hands and turned her to face him. “We’ve always been honest with each other about our feelings. We’ve never hidden the fact that we desire each other. Living that way has allowed us a wonderful freedom in our relationship. Knowing that you loved and desired me and longed for our marriage as deeply as I did was the only thing that kept me going while I was away at university.”

“I can’t remember that,” she said softly, “but I can tell you honestly that I love... the feel of your arms around me and... and the sound of your voice and the woodsy scent I smell on your neck and clothes.”

“How I’ve longed to hear words like that again from your sweet lips.” He pressed a kiss to the side of her forehead, drew in a deep breath and took her hand in his. “The smell of your hair and the feel of your small hand in mine will always make my knees weak. I love so many things about you I can’t begin to list them all.”

She smiled at the beautiful man in front of her. “You probably shouldn’t since we’re standing on the beach with a crowd around us. It might be safer to skip stones, but it appears you wore out your arm pitching,” she said, steering the conversation back to a safe topic.

“You think so?” he asked, challenge ripe in his voice.

“As a matter of fact I do. I’d wager I can out skip you with our first three throws,” she said.

Adam took the bait and proved her wrong, but their laughter floated down the beach and brought them another step closer to each other and a new and exciting adult love.

Chapter Twenty-two

After eating lightly at the crazy supper Rebecca and her grandmother rode back to the house in Dawson’s rented carriage. They washed off the dust of a day spent picnicking and then began their toilette for the evening.

Rebecca donned her gown of white silk moiré accented in palest pink, with a fitted bodice, small puffed sleeves, and an A-line skirt that flared as she moved. In keeping with the gown’s simplicity, her only adornment was a choker of pearls about her throat and a glimmer of silver pins amid her upswept hair.

Jojo scampered beneath the flowing fabric of Rebecca’s dress hem and batted at her bare toes.

Laughing, Rebecca watched Jojo’s tiny paws peep out from beneath the lace hem, pounce on her foot, then zip back beneath the fabric curtain. “You little scamp. You’d better not snag my dress with your sharp kitty claws.” Rebecca bent over and fished Jojo from beneath her skirt. She brought the little minx to her face and rubbed her nose against Jojo’s tiny furry face. “I love you, little one. Thank you for rescuing me.”

In that moment Rebecca realized she was healing. For the first time since she had awakened to a world of strangers, she felt she possessed substance. She was refilling her well of memories, making friends, and falling in love with a darling kitten and a man who took her breath away. She couldn’t seem to recover her past, but she was making a new life right here at Crane Landing.

“Come on, Jojo. I need to feed you before I leave.” Rebecca returned Jojo to the floor. With her bare toes she nudged a ball of yarn across the hardwood and smiled as the kitten barreled after it.

While Jojo was in pursuit, Rebecca drew on her hose and shoes, then affixed a dance card to her waist. A pair of elbow-length gloves in the softest kid, French heeled slippers, and a small pink and white silk fan completed her outfit. Scooping Jojo into her arms, she headed downstairs.

As the kitten dove into her dinner of finely shredded chicken breast and a saucer of milk, Rebecca removed one of her pretty white gloves and knelt beside the kitten. As she stroked Jojo’s small back, her heart swelled with love. In that moment Rebecca realized that if not for her accident she and Jojo wouldn’t have found each other. The accident may have stolen Rebecca’s memories, but it hadn’t taken away her capacity for love or joy or a perfectly happy future. Like Jojo, Rebecca needed to accept her circumstances and embrace each moment with gusto and a sense of curiosity and adventure. Choked by emotion, she tenderly scratched behind Jojo’s tiny ears. “I need to get you a playmate, little one.” And Rebecca wanted her own mate as well.

With that thought in mind, she went to the parlor where her grandmother and Dawson were relaxing. “You look so lovely, Grandma!” Rebecca exclaimed, admiring the gown of deep blue and the blush on her grandmother’s face. Dawson served as a perfect complement for her in his dark suit and white bow tie. “You both look spectacular.” Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her chest. She was so happy to see her grandmother decked out in a pretty dress with her eyes sparkling with anticipation of the evening ahead. “Shall we head to the dance now?”

“Please,” Dawson said with mock exasperation. “Your grandmother is ridiculously eager to waltz with me.”

Rebecca and her grandmother laughed at the same moment. Dawson winked at them, got to his feet and escorted them outside.

Rebecca could barely contain her excitement as Dawson helped her into his carriage. She willed the carriage to go faster, and when they entered town it seemed all heads turned in their direction.

“Looks as if you beautiful ladies have made me the envy of every man in town,” Dawson said. “I haven’t garnered this much attention since Doc sent me to the asylum in Bangor.”

Rebecca gawked at her grandmother’s back, stunned, her mind awhirl with a hundred questions, none of which she could ask without being inappropriate.

Glancing over her shoulder, her grandmother gave a slight nod to indicate that she knew about Dawson’s history.

Rebecca sat silent in the aftermath of Dawson’s statement, trying to act as if she hadn’t heard him when she desperately wanted more information. Why had the doctor sent Dawson to an asylum? Dawson may be a tad peculiar, but he seemed as normal as anyone.

That knowledge chilled Rebecca.

Somehow, though, Dawson had managed to escape the locked doors of the asylum and live his life the way he chose. His peculiarities had been accepted here at Crane Landing. But what if he hadn’t been a member of the Crane family?

She fell quiet, lost in dark thoughts.

Her grandmother turned and reached one hand back to pat Rebecca’s knee. “Anyone looking as lovely as you should not be so Friday-faced, my dear,” she said. “That dress is only half as lovely without your smile.”

Apparently oblivious of the effect of his words, Dawson drew the horse to a slow walk as they entered the Grange lands. “Look who’s waiting for you,” he said as he stopped by the shelled walk. He disembarked and then came around to let down the step and help both Rebecca and her grandmother to the ground.

Adam stood at the edge of the makeshift dance floor that was rimmed with gaslights and spread out like an oasis atop the grass. He gave new meaning to the word handsome in his black tailcoat suit, white formal shirt, and black bowtie. His wavy brown hair lifted slightly with the breeze as he turned toward them... and his mouth fell open.

The sight of him swept away the darkness that had settled over Rebecca. As soon as she was at his side, the magic of his presence enveloped her and drew her away from her worries.

“What a vision you are,” he murmured. “You literally take my breath away.”

Warmth suffused her with his compliments. Quietly she handed him the dragonfly he’d created. “Will you please pin this lovely dragonfly to my dress for me?” She held perfectly still, watching him as he pinned it to the edging of her gown, just above her heart. After a couple of seconds, she laughed softly. “You remind me of your dad just now,” she said, “how studious Uncle Duke can be when he’s focused intently on a task.”

Adam lifted his brows at her. “That’s interesting considering I’m adopted.”

“Uncle Duke has had a big influence on you.”

Adam smiled. “That he has.” With his head bent close to hers she could smell his freshly washed hair and a hint of cologne. “There,” he said, finished with the pin. “With the dragonfly perched on your dress you look like a fairytale princess in a bucolic glade.”

Rebecca laughed and looked down at the delicate dragonfly and then back at Adam. “You make me feel like a princess. Thank you.”

He linked his warm fingers with hers and gazed down at her, his eyes dark with emotion. “Wait until I twirl you around the dance floor in that pretty dress. I won’t be the only one who thinks you look like a princess.”

Leo slapped his large hand over Adam’s shoulder and hauled him away from Rebecca. “I see I’m still keeping you two out of trouble. You can thank me later, Adam,” he said nodding toward Rebecca’s grandmother who was approaching on Dawson’s arm. Leo’s white teeth flashed in his tanned, handsome face as he laughed.

“I’m going to punch you later,” Adam said under his breath, but he and Rebecca, and Mary who had arrived with Leo, laughed and greeted one another with hugs.

Mary and Rebecca complimented each other on their dresses and secretly admired their handsome escorts. Leo was a darker, slightly larger man than Adam, but both men were similar in the quietly confident way they carried themselves.

“Go away,” Adam said, nudging Leo aside. “There is something I need to take care of before I whisk the beautiful lady out onto the dance floor.” He dropped his hands to her waist and reached for the dance card dangling there.

“What are you doing?” Rebecca asked as he drew her dance card toward him, tasseled cord and all.

“I am filling your card now so there will be no chance of losing you to another man later,” he said. He took up the small, slim pencil and scribbled his name beside several dances listed on the inside of the card.

Rebecca couldn’t suppress the warmth that spread through her. He’d claimed every waltz—all five of them—along with two quadrilles and the mazurka.

Leo hooted. “Adam, my friend, you live your life like you fish and play baseball, with purpose and a plan.”

Adam tipped a grin at Rebecca that made her dizzy with delight. “This night is ours.”

Her heartbeat thumped in her chest and her face flushed with heat.

Mary whacked her fan against Adam’s arm. “You should be ashamed, Adam Grayson. You told the hopeful young ladies at my wedding ball that you couldn’t dance.”

Adam cringed as if he’d gotten caught in a white lie. “Well... what I meant was that I didn’t know how to dance without Rebecca Grayson in my arms.”

Rebecca’s mouth fell open and she released a breathy sigh. A flutter of excitement swept through her stomach and left her in a near swoon.

“Oh, my...” Mary pressed her fan to her smiling mouth and shook her head, her diamond earrings sparkling in the gaslights. “You and Leo are both incorrigible.” She looked at Rebecca. “I fear you will have your hands full this night.”

“As will you,” Leo said, sweeping Mary into his arms and onto the dance floor.

Adam laughed at their friend’s antics and turned to Rebecca with a happy smile on his face. “Is it all right if I’m an incorrigible romantic?” he asked.

Struggling to get her breath back, Rebecca gave him a nod and smiled. “Were you always like this?”

“Only with you,” he answered, tucking Rebecca’s arm in his and turning her toward the dance floor. “It’s time to dance. I can’t wait another minute to hold you in my arms.”

Waltzing with him was dreamlike as he moved her across the floor with ease and sureness. Every smooth turn, each steady step carried Rebecca further into their dream of sharing life together. She felt her heart lift as she followed his strong lead.

“Surely we must have danced a hundred times together before this night to be so in tune with one another,” she said.

He smiled. “Only a dozen times or so, but we have been in tune with each other from the day we met. Dancing is just an extension of that connection we share.”

They were definitely connected. She felt it throughout the evening in their easy friendship and in her body when he held her. They may not have danced a hundred dances, but there was no question that she’d been in his arms that many times. The thought made her wonder if those previous occasions were anything like their late night visits on her back porch—or if they might have been even more intense and... passionate.

“I have a surprise for you later,” Adam said as he pivoted and turned, adding a playful flair to their waltz.

“Really?” she asked. “I love surprises.”

“I know.”

She made a face and said, “I wish I knew as much about you as you know about me.”

“You may find it boring if there was nothing new to learn.”

Her footstep faltered and he tightened his hold. “Do you find me boring?” she asked, dismayed at the thought.

He laughed outright. “Hardly, my darling.” He gave her another small twirl that flared her skirt. “You are more a mystery to me now than you’ve ever been. I’m thoroughly intrigued and captivated by you. Every word from your mouth is a delightful surprise. I love not knowing what to expect.”

He might change his mind if he knew about the irrational thoughts she wouldn’t allow out of her mouth.

“What is this surprise you have for me?” she asked.

“One you’ll definitely love, and that’s all I’m going to tell you.”

She gave his shoulder a gentle whack with her fan. “You are a tease, Adam.”

“As are you, my love. You’re so beautiful I can barely keep my hands off you tonight.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t.”

Their eyes held and time seemed to stop. “Are you flirting with me?” he asked quietly.

“I am indeed,” she said, thinking of Jojo and how the little darling went after what she wanted without a lick of shame or fear. With her gloved finger, Rebecca gently closed Adam’s mouth. “You look a little stunned. Have I scared you?”

He released a snort of laughter. “Hardly. I’m just wondering how I can steal a kiss without shocking all these folks around us.”

She smiled and moved close to him, putting her mouth near his ear. “Wait a while and you won’t have to steal one,” she whispered.

With a low growl he pulled her into a quick hug. “I cannot imagine anything better than the feel of you in my arms,” he said near her ear, then stepped back to put some space between them.

“What about holding your baby?” she asked.

His eyebrows went up in surprise. “That’s an interesting comment and something I haven’t thought about since—in a while.”

“Gracious!” she said, her face flaming with heat. “That was entirely inappropriate of me.”

He shook his head. “It was a beautiful thought and I can imagine how utterly amazing it will be when that day comes.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to cool her cheeks in the light breeze. “I have no idea why I thought to say such a thing.” It was a totally inappropriate time and place for such a comment and was one more example of her thoughts getting away from her. Would she be forever plagued by this? She was supposed to be healing. Doc Samuel said she seemed to be doing better. But her blatant flirting was as inappropriate as her words. “I’m parched all of a sudden,” she said. “May we forego the next dance?”

“Only if you promise me another later.”

She loved his playful smile, but couldn’t manage one of her own. “I promise.”

They paused for refreshments, but a dark cloud had settled about Rebecca, one not even Adam’s presence could lift. She ached inside to think that her head injury might create problems in his life as it was in her own. She couldn’t bear such a thing. Adam was too good a man with too many dreams and plans to be burdened by a woman with irrational thoughts and inappropriate behavior. He was a partner in her father’s sawmill business. Adam would need to meet with other business owners and host dinner parties and be a leading man in their community. He couldn’t do that with a mentally unstable woman at his side who roamed the house all hours of the night and said inappropriate things.

She felt so flattened at the thought that she wanted to sneak away home and hide out on her back porch with Jojo in her lap. But she and Adam were chosen as one of the head couples for one of the quadrille dances, with Leo and Mary serving as a side couple. Unable to refuse without eliciting questions she didn’t want to answer, Rebecca did her best to stay engaged with the dance and to be happy, for Adam’s sake.

The dance required her to change partners from Adam to Leo. “Good evening, Sir Leo,” she said, attempting a lightness she didn’t feel.

Leo slightly bowed his head to acknowledge her playful greeting. “What troubles m’lady this eventide,” he said with a ridiculous British accent.

Rebecca laughed and wrinkled her nose. “That’s was dreadful, Leo.”

“I know, but it made you smile.” He gave her hand a light squeeze as they executed the movements of the dance. “Are you all right?”

“I just have a little headache,” she said. “It’ll pass.”

“It’s seems more than a headache is bothering you,” Leo said. “Considering the way you still look at Adam, I assume you’re not having second thoughts about him?”

“Of course not.”

Leo shook his head. “What’s so special about that beggar?”

“If you don’t know then you’re not his friend,” she said.

Delighted laughter burst from Leo. “Touché, Miss Grayson. I can assure you that I know your dashing knight as well as the chinks in Adam’s armor. He’s like my brother and a man worthy of your heart. Just be careful with his,” he said, but the dance required him to pass her back to Adam, leaving Rebecca no time to query about his warning.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Adam danced her off the floor away from the blaze of gaslight—and straight into darkness lit by moonlight and the sparkling light of the stars. He didn’t say a word; he merely slowed them to a walk and tucked her left hand into the crook of his right elbow.

They were on the promenade now. To their right, beyond a line of bushes, lay the bay; to their left, the huge lawns of the Grange hall. They stood there a long moment, his hands at her elbows, their foreheads nearly touching as they gazed into each other’s moonlit faces.

“Please marry me,” he whispered.

Rebecca could see her future in the dreamy depths of his gaze. She just had to say yes.

“I want to marry you when we return to Fredonia. If you have any reservations tell me now because I can’t bear to wait any longer.”

She had reservations for his sake, but she couldn’t find the words. And then he was gathering her in his arm and covering her mouth with his own in a kiss so tender and filled with love it made her eyes tear.

“I love you, Rebecca.”

“Adam...” She had so much to say and yet couldn’t find the right words. Adam wasn’t ready for her truth. And she wasn’t ready to let go of the slim possibility that she could find her way back to a healthy mind and the girl he loved so deeply. “I... I thought you had a surprise for me,” she said, taking his arm. She would enjoy this night with him—and make her decision when they were back home in Fredonia.

“I do indeed.” As they strolled, Adam’s sturdy presence helped calm her, as did their leisurely pace. He was giving her time, she knew... time to wrestle with whatever haunted her.

Soon the landscape on their left changed from lawns to a grove and then to a face of rock with a natural ledge, while to their right the bushes ended, giving way to a breathtaking moonlit view of the bay.

It was here that Adam came to a stop. “This is it. I’d wanted to share this with you at dusk, but now is a better time, I think, although our climb might be a bit precarious.” He nodded at the ledge of rock above their heads. “You told me you wanted adventure. Think you have what it takes to navigate this rock in the dark?”

“I’d like to think I do, but what if I don’t?”

“You’ll end up in the ocean and be carried off by the waves like a mermaid.”

“Hmmm...” She tapped her lip with her finger as she considered the climb. “Since I can’t swim as well as a mermaid, I suppose I shan’t fall then. Help me get up there.”

With a laugh, Adam supported her and told her where to place her feet and hands. It was a short climb of three or four steps, but one that had them laughing and scrambling to keep their footing.

Finally atop the rock, Adam sat beside Rebecca on the large shelf, their feet hanging above the crashing waves below. “This is called the Wishing Rock. See down there, where the moonbeam paints the water?”

Rebecca looked—and caught her breath at the sight. “How magnificent,” she breathed.

Adam nodded. “I heard once that if you toss a pebble into moonlit water and make a wish, it will come to pass within a year.” He reached into his right pocket and withdrew two small stones and passed one to her. “Shall we make a wish and toss them on the count of three?”

Rebecca smiled at him, feeling the ache in her heart ease. “No skipping them, right?”

“Just toss them straight in,” he said, and Rebecca knew that’s what they would be doing if she agreed to marry him. No matter how captivating and inviting the water looked, they would be jumping in with both feet with nothing to hold onto but each other. “On three,” he said.

They counted together and tossed their stones into the shimmering water. Rebecca wondered if he wished her memory back, and hoped with all her heart it would come true—because she had spent her wish on something entirely different.

A boom echoed across the bay, startling her. A burst of red, white, and blue against the night sky formed an umbrella above their heads.

“Oh, my... . What a perfect place to watch the fireworks,” she said, her voice filled with awe as she gazed at the night sky painted with color and light. “Thank you for this wonderful surprise.”

“I had a hunch you would like this,” he said. And then he kissed her, long and deep, driving away her fears and opening her mind to the possibility of love and life with a man who made her believe in forever.

Chapter Twenty-three

On a sunny mid-July morning, Rebecca walked out Bay Street admiring the sparkling water filled with fishing boats and merchant vessels. Her heart ached to know she would be leaving this beautiful ocean-side town in just three days. She did miss her family and wished they could be here in this peaceful place where they would have time to get reacquainted without the chaos and intrusion of a town full of well-meaning friends and neighbors. It was just too hard for Rebecca to keep her thoughts straight while surrounded by so many voices no matter how helpful their intent.

Lost in thought, she strolled up Main Street peering in shop windows for perhaps the last time. Eventually, she made her way to Church Street and rang the bell at Doctor Samuel’s residence.

His apprentice, a blonde-haired young man not much older than Rebecca, introduced himself as Zacharias Crane and escorted her into Doctor Samuel’s exam room.

“How are you this fine morning?” the doctor asked as Rebecca took a seat on a thick cushioned stool. His apprentice stepped away and stood beside a tall cupboard to observe her visit.

Rebecca opened her mouth to say she was fine, but she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. “I don’t want to go home,” she blurted. “I... I’m just not ready yet.”

Doc Samuel arched a white eyebrow. “Any particular reason you don’t want to go back?”

She sat silent for a moment, her mind whirling as she tried to come up with a suitable response. Finally, she shook her head and said, “I haven’t remembered a single thing about my life, Doctor. The thought of going back without remembering even the slightest bit about my family is just so... it’s frustrating and makes my head hurt and I just... I can’t bear it.”

He studied her in silence for so long she began to fidget. Finally he said, “You need to understand and accept that you might never recover your memories, Rebecca. I know that’s dreadfully upsetting, but you need to understand and accept this possibility.”

Hearing her biggest fear stated so baldly left her breathless and on the edge of tears. “I have to remember, Doctor. I just... I must remember.”

Again he studied her in silence, tapping his finger across his pursed lips. The young apprentice stood silent and watchful as if trying to read the doctor’s mind. Finally Doc Samuel spoke. “Rebecca, I suspect there’s more on your mind than recovering your memory. You’ve been agitated during all of our visits, and yet you won’t share your concerns with me. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s really going on with you.” He stopped as if waiting for Rebecca to make her confession, but she sat mute and frightened, not knowing if she could trust the doctor or his watchful apprentice. Finally the doctor placed his hands on his knees and pushed himself to his feet. “All right, young lady. Let’s get you on the exam table so I can take a look at you.”

While the doctor ran through his typical exam, testing her recall and balance and various other things to determine her healing and progression, Rebecca knew he couldn’t help her if she didn’t trust him.

“I’m having bad dreams,” she blurted.

Surprised, he stopped looking into her ear canal and stepped back, the lighted scope hanging from his hand. “What’s bad about them?”

“I keep trying to get home, but I’m lost and... and someone is chasing me.”

“Who is chasing you?”

Rebecca swallowed and reminded herself that the doctor couldn’t help her if she wasn’t honest with him. “You are.”

Both of his eyebrows lifted. “Why am I chasing you, Rebecca?”

She wrung her hands, but forced herself to look at him. “You want to put me in an asylum like you did with Dawson Crane.”

“What?” He laughed and then immediately sobered as if aware he might have insulted her. “I apologize, but you have surely given me one of the biggest shocks of my career. Why am I trying to put you in an asylum?”

“Because you think I’m insane, of course.”

“Oh, dear.” He patted her shoulder and chuckled. “Rebecca, what makes you think you’re not sane?”

“I don’t think that,” she said, immediately defensive. “I’m quite sane, Doctor Samuel.”

“I quite agree, but something is going on that makes you question yourself. I can’t help you if you don’t share those things with me.”

He was right. Rebecca released a sigh, weary of trying to carry her troubles alone. “Do you recall that I saw a woman on the beach that my grandmother couldn’t see?”

He nodded. “Have you seen her again?”

Rebecca shook her head. “No, but I talked with a woman on the train that no one else saw. Daddy said I was asleep and dreaming the event, but I... I remember the porter searching for a valise, so I couldn’t have been sleeping, and the event was so real I can still see it in my mind.”

“You could have been in a half-sleep, Rebecca. We can imagine things as if we’re right in the middle of them and still hear what’s going on around us. That doesn’t make one crazy.”

“Perhaps,” she said, “but I’ve also had very disturbing thoughts that make me question—um, that frighten me.”

“Thoughts about what?” he asked.

His apprentice seemed deeply intrigued and began taking notes.

Rebecca knew then that she had gone too far. She simply couldn’t reveal her irrational thoughts and risk being sent away. “I seem to have developed a fear of snakes,” she said, knowing she would reveal nothing else to the doctor or his inquisitive apprentice. She would find her way through this on her own.

“There is nothing unusual about that, Rebecca. I have a healthy fear of those critters myself.” The doctor circled the exam table and checked the back of her head. “This has healed nicely.” He circled back to stand in front of her. “Rebecca, I didn’t put Dawson Crane in an asylum. Doc Franklin did. He was a good doctor, but he was old and didn’t have the benefit of the education I received, just as I don’t have the benefit of the education young Zacharias here has gotten. Medicine is always making progress. Doc Franklin put Dawson in the asylum because he didn’t know how to help him.”

Rebecca pressed her hand to her sick stomach. “I’m so sorry, Doctor. I hope I haven’t offended you.”

Doc Samuel shook his head. “Of course not. I understand now why you’re having difficulty talking with me.”

She wasn’t talking because she couldn’t share her bizarre thoughts with anyone.

“Rest assured I have no intention of putting anyone in an asylum, least of all you.”

However comforting his assurance, she wasn’t convinced he could keep his word once he really understood the level of her irrational thinking. And there was no guarantee that Zacharias would uphold the doctor’s promise. “How did you know about Dawson Crane?” she asked.

“Dawson’s father, George Crane, contacted me and asked me to check on his son. I went to the asylum to see Dawson, and when I met him I knew his injury was significant, but he was not insane. He just needed time to heal and some help relearning things. I brought him back to Crane Landing and made this place my home.” He patted Rebecca’s clenched hands. “You have no reason to fear me. Now, do you think your father would agree to you staying another month? I believe we’re beginning to make some progress.”

Rebecca didn’t know if she could or should extend her stay, but she certainly wanted to. While she waited, the doctor placed a call from his office to the Grayson sawmill and spoke with her father. Rebecca sat in mild shock when she realized the doctor not only had her father’s number but that they had spoken several times during the course of her treatment. When Doc Samuel hung up the phone he was smiling. “Your father sends his love and wants you to take whatever time you need here.”

The news elated Rebecca, but as soon as she began the walk home, she realized how selfish she was being. Adam had a partnership waiting for him at the mill. Her grandmother had other grandchildren and a life in Fredonia. To keep either of them here any longer would be unforgivably self-serving and inconsiderate. She’d already asked too much of them. And Adam wanted to marry her as soon as they returned home.

But that evening Adam assured her he was enjoying their stay and even felt a little selfish because he was glad to have her to himself for another few weeks. Grandmother expressed a mixture of melancholy and delight at extending her holiday. She desperately missed the rest of their family, but knowing it was only for another month soothed her heartache. She even expressed a bit of embarrassment that she was glad to spend a little more time with her friend Dawson. The Crane family, Mary in particular, was thrilled to have Rebecca and her grandmother making use of the house for another month. Rebecca and her grandmother thanked the Cranes with a huge picnic style supper on their back porch that weekend. Adam, Dawson and Leo attended making it a large, festive affair that pulled Rebecca’s thoughts far from her troubles.

Their picnic set the pace for the weeks to follow. Grandmother and Rebecca spent their days housekeeping and playing with Jojo and preparing evening meals that were always attended by Adam and Dawson and often included Leo and Mary—and sometimes her family. After their casual suppers, and on weekends, they would play lawn games or cards or just share each other’s company amid frequent laughter and storytelling. Rebecca visited Doc Samuel again and shared another snake dream with him, but kept everything else to herself. She took long walks with Adam and engaged in interesting, fun and sometimes intense conversations that made them laugh, and some talks that jangled her nerves and made her beg Adam to stop talking about their past. He seemed to be learning when to leave their past in the past, which was helping Rebecca relax and share more with him.

And late at night, when everyone was sleeping, Rebecca would make a steaming cup of willow bark tea Adam had mixed for her and drink it while she waited for him on the porch. When he arrived they would talk quietly and hold each other and she would dream of having a fulfilling normal life someday.

With each day that passed she found herself a little deeper in friendship, admiration, and even love with Adam, and one day closer to their inevitable return to Fredonia. As their time at Crane Landing grew shorter Rebecca’s head filled with more and more odd thoughts, none of which she shared with Doc Samuel, even during her final visit. She expected his frustration and perhaps even anger, but he simply shook his head and said he wanted to see her again in six months. He suggested she go home and spend time with her family. Then, to her surprise, he gave her a hug and told her to find someone she could trust with her troubles.

His advice resonated deep in Rebecca’s heart and she longed to do just that, but she couldn’t.

o0o

August heat warmed the sun washed beach. Rebecca clung to Adam’s arm and approached the towering lighthouse with a mix of excitement and melancholy. Tomorrow morning she would leave her little house on the river and take the train home to Fredonia with Adam and their grandmother.

Walking the rocky shoreline for the last time made her heart ache. Ocean waves broke against rocky shoals and crashed into shore, shooting foamy spray high in the air. A strong breeze carried the mist across the beach, cooling Rebecca’s face and creating mini rainbows in the dazzling sunshine.

She should be rejoicing to have spent so much time in this beautiful place instead of brooding about going back to her little village filled with so many wonderful people. Leaving didn’t have to be forever. Adam had promised to bring her back to Crane Landing. If her suspicions were on target, her grandmother might like to return for a visit as well. Maybe Rebecca’s memories would return before she came back and she could share more of her life with Mary Crane during her next visit.

Forcing her despondent thoughts away, Rebecca struggled to keep pace with Adam as they followed their grandmother and Dawson along the beach strewn with ocean grass, stone, and shells. When they finally stopped and craned their necks to look up the rocky cliff, Rebecca’s breath caught in her throat.

Perched high atop an outcropping of rock that jutted into the North Atlantic, the white lighthouse with a red and green crown seemed to scrape the blue sky above.

“How utterly magnificent,” she said.

“That climb looks daunting.” Grandma eyed the wooden stairway that hugged the rocky cliff before them. “There must be a hundred stairs or more.”

“Sixty-four actually,” Dawson said. “Plus two-hundred-fourteen inside the lighthouse.”

“Sakes alive, I won’t even manage to reach the door of the lighthouse,” Grandma said.

Dawson merely grinned. “You don’t need to make it to the top, Nancy. You just have to try.”

Rebecca shot a look of approval at Adam. She liked Dawson Crane and the effect he was having on their grandmother. Adam’s crooked smile suggested he liked the man too.

“You sound like my late husband,” Grandma said, parking her hand on her hip.

Dawson grinned. “He must have been a smart man.”

“He was too smart some days, just like you, Mr. Crane.” She pursed her mouth as if trying to hold back a smile. “Now how do you propose to get me out of here should I not manage the climb?”

“I have no idea.” A perplexed look crossed his face. “It’s a long way back... and it’s a long way up. You could be stuck here for some time, I’m afraid.”

Grandma eyed the cliff with concern. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

Dawson’s laughter rang across the shore. “Don’t fret, Nancy. Hitch up your skirt and let’s see what you’re made of.”

To Rebecca’s delight her grandmother lifted her skirt two inches and strode toward the wooden stairs that zigzagged up the face of the rocky cliff. “Challenge accepted, Mr. Crane. I just hope these old treads will support our weight.”

Behind them, Adam offered his elbow to Rebecca. “May I escort you up sixty-four rickety stairs?”

Rebecca gladly took his arm. “If we come crashing down upon the rocks I’m counting on you to cushion my fall.

“I’ll absorb the impact with my own body,” he said leading them on.

She laughed and missed the first step.

Adam caught her elbow.

As she looked up, he looked down. His gorgeous smile was so close and enticing that she nearly kissed him.

“Are you being intentionally reckless, my love?” he asked.

The breeze lifted strands of her hair and brought the scent of ocean and fish and sea grass. “Walking the shore with the wind on my face and you at my side makes me feel reckless.” She hiked her skirt a couple of inches higher. “It makes me think about giving you that kiss I owe you.”

“You, my love, are a temptress and my resistance is at low tide. Watch your step now,” he said quietly, nodding to the worn board beneath her shoe. But she knew he was warning her not to push him beyond his limits—and that made her wonder what he’d do if she did push him. The thought was intriguing.

Looking into his handsome face she longed to throw herself into his protective arms. She wanted to let the tide of their love pull her out to sea... Maybe she would. After all, it was their last day at Crane Landing. Tomorrow they would be going back to Fredonia. Back to a place that Rebecca was supposed to remember and to people she was supposed to know. Back instead of forward...

“Shall we?” he asked, gesturing for her to begin to climb.

Yes, she thought. Yes we shall.

And so Rebecca embraced the day and Adam’s love and the wonderful sense of playfulness that seemed to permeate their relationship. She would make the best of each new day.

She would also make it up these never-ending stairs. Somehow.

Thankfully, her grandmother stopped so often to admire the view that the climb became an enjoyable adventure rather than a hard trek to their destination. The bay and ocean beyond were dotted with dories and schooners and fishing vessels of all kinds. A ship with her magnificent sails billowing surfed across the waves and eventually slipped across the horizon.

Overcome by the vastness and the beauty, Rebecca pressed a palm to her stomach and sighed. “There are no words, Adam.”

He stroked her back and said nothing, as if he agreed. Words couldn’t capture such a moment of majesty.

“I must see this from the top of the lighthouse,” she said, her voice dreamy sounding even to her own ears.

“Let’s step around Grandma and Dawson and make our way up. I think they’ll be a while yet.” Taking her hand, Adam carefully led them past their grandmother and Dawson, who both seemed blissfully happy lingering on the cliff-side stairs watching the day go by. “Will we see you two at the top?” Adam asked.

Their grandmother laughed. “If you mean at the top of these stairs, then yes, I’ll make it that far. But if you’re asking if I’ll climb another step once I reach the top of this cliff, you have a lot more faith in these old legs than I do.”

“All right, then,” he said, laughing. “Rebecca and I are keen for the challenge. See you at the lighthouse.” With that, he and Rebecca finished the climb.

At the top, Rebecca stopped and fanned her face, awed by the towering monument in front of her. A heavy wooden door painted red and trimmed in black gave access to the circular brick tower shooting into the vast sky overhead. “It’s so much bigger than I’d imagined,” she said, breathless from the climb and her first up-close view of a lighthouse. “I can’t even imagine how one would get to the top of this thing.”

“Stairs that wind around and around and go up and up and up,” Adam said, laughing at her horrified look. “Come on. You’ll love this.” He guided her inside.

Sunlight washed in the open door behind them as Rebecca stopped in surprise. Two large arched windows sat deep in the brick walls of the structure. A thick cushioned well-worn chair sat beneath the window to her left, and a single bunk topped with a multicolored charm quilt had been pushed against the same wall. On the opposite side of the room a small heat stove and another chair offered an inviting respite. In the center of the room sat a massive oak desk and a man about her father’s age with dark hair, gray sideburns, and eyes the color of the ocean.

“Greetings,” he said, laying his pen aside and closing a journal of some sort. He stood and extended his hand to Adam. “I see you made the trek unscathed.”

“Good morning, Horace.” Adam shook the lighthouse keeper’s hand. “I thought my fiancé would enjoy the challenge of taking the shore route here. Now we’ll see if she’s up for the climb,” he said, tipping a smile at Rebecca and making introductions.

After greeting Mr. Jenkins, Rebecca asked, “Are you saying there is another way to get here?”

At Adam’s nod, Rebecca laughed. “Oh my, I can imagine the look on Grandmother’s face when she realizes Dawson purposely misled her.”

“I warned Dawson of the consequences,” Adam said, laughing. He turned to Horace. “If you’re interested in seeing a Crane taken down a peg, just watch when my grandmother learns she could have come here in the comfort of a carriage.”

Horace Jenkins laughed and shook his head. “Sounds like something Dawson Crane would do.”

Adam nodded. “It does, but Grandmother is better for the adventure, and I’d bet my last dollar she’ll be glad we took the beach to get here.”

As their laughter settled, Horace gestured to the narrow set of stairs that wound around and around to the top of the lighthouse. “Shall we wait for Mr. Crane and your grandmother to arrive?”

“They may be a while yet. I think it’s safe to assume that Grandmother won’t be climbing anymore stairs today,” Adam said. He caught Rebecca’s hand. “Do you need to sit for a spell before we head up?”

“I don’t want to wait another minute, Adam.”

“You young folks go on up,” the keeper said. “I’ll be up after I greet Mr. Crane and your grandmother.”

That’s all Rebecca needed to hear. She was off toward the stairs like a breaking wave heading for shore.

Laughing at her single-minded pursuit, Adam caught her elbow. “You’d better save some of that energy, love, because you’re going to need it.”

“Race you to the top,” Rebecca said, stepping in front of him and purposely blocking the entrance to the narrow stairs.

“Oh-ho! You may soon regret leading the way as I won’t be in front of you to pull you along.”

“You’ll just have to push then,” she said, giggling as she bounded up several steps.

And off they went, climbing and teasing as if they were teens in the throes of a first romance. It wasn’t their first, of course. They had fallen in love once before—with each other—but for Rebecca it was all new and exciting.

Adam crowded her from behind, pretending he would pass her when they both knew it would be nearly impossible and highly dangerous if he succeeded. Gasping for breath, they circled around and up... around and up, until finally Rebecca stopped at the sixth level. Doubled forward, hands on her knees, she panted. “Should have... let you... lead,” she said, barely able to get the words out. “Can... barely... breathe.”

Laughing, Adam grasped her hand and pulled her down to sit on the stair tread. “I have no idea how... Horace and his... staff make this climb several times a day.”

With her hand pressed to her pounding heart, Rebecca rolled her head against the cool brick wall. “I can’t imagine it.” They sat for a minute just breathing.

“Want to see something remarkable?” Adam asked.

“Not if it involves climbing stairs.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Just lean forward a bit and look down.”

Curious, Rebecca did as instructed—and she saw straight down the center of the circular staircase that went round and round and round to the bottom of the lighthouse. She cried out in alarm and threw herself back against the brick wall. Head spinning, she thought she might be sick. “Adam, please tell me these stairs will support us.” They seemed to have no scaffolding or support beams beneath them. A fall from this height was certain death.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I thought you would enjoy the sight.” He stroked her hand. “Horace and his staff tromp up and down these stairs several times a day. They keep them in magnificent repair. They’ll support us all the way to the top unless you’d rather turn back.”

She shook her head. “It just made me woozy. I’ll finish our climb as soon as things stop spinning.”

“That a girl.” He waited a couple of minutes then said, “Let’s go now so we can have a few minutes to gawk before Horace joins us.” Adam stood and helped her to her feet. “Watch your step and keep your eyes ahead of you. That should save you from toppling over the edge.”

“That’s incredibly reassuring,” she said, gripping the railing and continuing upward.

He kissed the back of her neck. “I’m right here, darling. We’ll reach the top without the stairs collapsing.”

“We’ll never know it if they do,” she said, trying to ignore his thrilling kiss as she continued the climb on tired, wobbly legs.

A few minutes later they reached the eighth level, breathing hard. They stepped into the service room lined with cupboard and tools. From there, Adam led Rebecca to another set of stairs and stopped her at the bottom.

“When we reach the top of these stairs we’ll be outside. It might be a little like looking over the edge of the edge of the world. Are you ready for this?” he asked.

She nodded, still quite breathless. “Just hold onto me.”

“Always,” he said. With that, he swept her into his arms and ascended the stairs.

Stunned, Rebecca gripped his shoulders. “What are you doing, Adam?”

“We’ll reach the top together, darling.” With that he took the final two steps and brought them to an outside balcony called a gallery that encircled the lantern room where the glass encased beacon of light resided.

All Rebecca could see was the long stretch of beach and miles and miles of blue ocean. “Oh, my...”

Slowly, he lowered her feet to the decking.

She stood beside him simply awestruck as her spirit soared like a seagull into the sunny sky above. A multitude of fishing boats dotted the shoreline and looked the size of pitch barrels from this height. She could see the shops at Crane Landing and the twin rivers and the bay and how they connected with the ocean. Huge, rolling waves struck the rocky shoals below, roaring and frothing as they broke across the shore. The rickety cliff-side steps that she had climbed were directly below. To her right she noticed a little inlet with a hidden boat dock and two rowboats bobbing in the water. The keeper’s large sturdy home sat on a grass-topped hill above the cove. Other small buildings that Rebecca couldn’t identify were located nearby. Finally, her gaze dropped straight down the towering lighthouse, making her head woozy and her stomach light. With a small gasp, she stepped away from the sturdy railing that surrounded the gallery.

Adam took her in his arms and steadied her. “May I suggest that you avoid looking straight down from this height?”

“Duly noted,” she said, releasing a light laugh. “Have I always been this sensitive to heights?”

“Not that I recall, but then we’ve never climbed this high before. You did enjoy climbing our trees at home.” He rubbed her biceps. “You’re trembling.”

“Well, I just scared the stuffing out of myself. And those trees I apparently used to climb have big limbs to hold onto and to break my fall.”

He chuckled and hugged her. “You’re safe here, darling. I won’t let you go.”

For a few minutes they stood, her back to his chest, taking in the expansive view of lush green woodlands and the Crane River that cut a winding path to the rocky beach where they merged with the cobalt blue ocean.

They watched together as a merchant schooner, sails unfurled, made is way out of the bay into the open Atlantic waters. The three-mast vessel rode the waves with ease. The men on deck moved like a colony of ants, the deck glistening with ocean spray and sunshine.

Safe in Adam’s arms, Rebecca allowed her gaze to return to the crashing waves below. “I’m beginning to understand why you would be concerned about the construction and durability of your sailing vessel rather than the romance of the journey. I’d only envisioned billowing sails and a vast, shimmering ocean of calm water, not those powerful waves pounding the rocks below.”

“The voyage is a lot more romantic if you don’t become fish bait,” he said.

She laughed. “I can’t argue that logic. Goodness, how small Crane Landing appears from this height. Perhaps it’s because I’m seeing more of the ocean that makes it appear so. Up here the world is so vast and... exciting,” she said. “Standing here in the wind makes me feel like I have wings.” She turned to face Adam. “I feel this way when I ride Star. Is that what sailing on a schooner is like?”

“Hmmm... sailing is like... it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced,” he answered, his voice going soft. “At first it’s exciting and you want to race the wind, and then when you’re bounding across the waves you realize how powerful the ocean is and how insignificant and vulnerable you are... and then you grow quiet with respect. Time disappears and you become one with the ocean and it fills you up like wind in a sail. Suddenly, it’s just this moment and this wave and this snap of the sail.”

They fell silent, both of them enjoying a moment that needed no words.

“Do sailors ever tire of the ocean?” she asked eventually.

“I think they tire of the work and being away from their families, but I believe most of them love the ocean like a mistress. You’ve heard the saying that a sailor is married to the sea, right?”

She nodded, taking in all he’d said. “I’m beginning to see the attraction.”

“You’re my ocean, Rebecca.” He lowered his mouth to hers. His tender, sweet kiss was brief, but as powerful as the waves crashing into the shore below. “You are magnificence and mystery and pleasure and danger, and when I’m with you all I can see, or hear, or feel is... now... this moment. I love you and I’m ready to sail, Rebecca. Let’s begin our journey together.”

“Oh, Adam...” She gazed into the beautiful dark depths of his eyes and saw his steadfast love and promise of home, and heaven help her but she wanted to say yes. She wanted to sail an ocean with him and build a home right here in Crane Landing. “I wonder if this is what Princess Cecily felt when Gabriel Crane swept her off on their incredible journey,” she said, because although she wanted to say yes, she didn’t think she should.

“I suspect she was scared but trusted that Gabe loved her and would do anything for her.” Adam stroked Rebecca’s cheek. “I’ll protect you and love you, Rebecca. You can trust in me and in our love.”

“Hello? You two up there, Adam?” The keeper’s warning call from below startled them apart.

Adam’s eyes closed for a brief second, as if the man’s timing couldn’t have been worse.

For Rebecca, the keeper’s call had been serendipitous.

Horace Jenkins emerged onto the gallery deck where Rebecca pretended to be studying the shoreline. “Quite a sight isn’t it?” he asked, barely out of breath.

“It’s beyond words,” she said honestly. So was Adam’s profession of love. If looking over the tower’s edge had made her dizzy, Adam’s declaration had made her swoon. How could she have possibly waited all these years to marry him? Rebecca wished she hadn’t waited because now it left her with an impossible decision. She wanted to say yes, but knew she should say no.

As her gaze roved the shoreline, she released a startled gasp. A lone woman walked the beach just south of the lighthouse. Buffeted by the stiff breeze, the woman’s red hair whipped around her head, and her yellow dress flapped around her legs as she strode the shore.

“Ah, you’ve spied my daughter,” Horace said.

Stunned, Rebecca glanced at the man. “You see her?”

“Clearly,” he said. “She often walks this time of day.”

Rebecca turned her eyes to Adam. He nodded that he understood and assured her she wasn’t seeing things. Shifting her attention back to the keeper’s daughter, Rebecca studied the gal for several long seconds, wondering if the keeper’s daughter was the same woman Rebecca had seen on the beach near the shipyard.

“Is that your mystery woman?” Adam asked quietly near her ear.

Rebecca shrugged. It was impossible to determine. “Perhaps,” she said, but she felt far less than certain.

“Would you like to know a little about the workings of a lighthouse?” Mr. Jenkins asked.

“I would indeed,” Rebecca said, dredging up a smile for the kind man. “I’m particularly intrigued by that massive craggy looking piece of glass that is rotating in that open cupola.”

Her description gave Mr. Jenkins a good laugh. Adam, who had apparently visited the lighthouse before, smiled at her as if she were a sweet, naïve student.

“That’s our Fresnel lens, and the reason it looks ‘craggy’ is because those small sections of glass are angled to refract light. It’s a large prism that can reflect a small amount of light over many miles. I’ve had sailors tell me they can see our beacon twenty miles out,” he said, sounding like a proud parent.

“That’s incredible,” Rebecca said, eyeing the huge glass globe. “I understand how it might reflect the sunlight, but I don’t see where the light would come from at night.”

“Well, unless we’re experiencing a nasty storm and poor visibility during daylight sailors navigate by our colors. Every lighthouse along the coast has a different color pattern. Each lighthouse uses a different light signal, too, and our light comes from a flame inside the globe,” he said. “Our lamp emits three flashes every three seconds and that tells mariners they are off shore at Crane Landing at the southern end of Maine.”

Intrigued, she studied the lamp house and large lens. “That is just so... clever.”

Mr. Jenkins was a man who took great pride in his job and loved to share his lighthouse with others. He told Rebecca how he and his staff of three keep the oil lamps cleaned of soot and filled with oil they brought up from the oil house—one of the small outbuildings she’d seen below. They replaced and trimmed the wicks and kept everything cleaned, including the grounds and their rescue boats, which they had used a number of times, even though it wasn’t their paid responsibility to pull stranded sailors from the ocean. It was their job to sound the fog bell and keep log books and report hazards and wrecks. “Our lighthouse saves lives,” he said in a serious and somewhat grave voice. “I fished these waters for ten years before I sold my fishing boat years ago and took this job. I know how dangerous it is out there, so I do my best to give those men on the water all the help I can. It’s my job to warn them of danger, especially unseen hazards.”

She looked at Adam. “I didn’t realize there was so much involved in tending a lighthouse.” To Mr. Jenkins she said, “Thank you for the education, but more so for helping to keep people safe. I am in awe of all you do here.”

Mr. Jenkins blushed so hard his ears turned red, and he mumbled a thank you before he moved toward the stairs. “Shall we head back? Your grandmother is waiting below for you.”

Rebecca cast a last longing look at the ocean she hoped to cross one day. She wanted to sail to Enlightsia, to the home of Princess Cecily, someday with Adam.

As Adam guided her to the stairs, Rebecca knew she wanted to marry this beautiful man. She wanted all he offered her, and she wanted to give as much in return. But with her hallucinations and irrational thinking, what sort of wife would she be? What sort of mother? The harm she could cause herself was one thing. To carry that responsibility for a husband and dependent children was something altogether different.

As she descended the steps inside the lighthouse her thoughts went round and round, exhausting her with their ceaseless circling. She longed for a life with Adam, but her conscience acted like a rudder that steered her away from a possible disaster. If Adam realized what monsters swam in the dark caverns of her mind, would he throw her back like a bad catch? Head down, she prayed she would find a lighthouse at the end of her journey instead of an asylum and a broken heart.

Chapter Twenty-four

Adam’s heart pounded in anticipation as Rebecca arrived at their little rental home on Mill Street. They had returned to Fredonia with their grandmother yesterday evening, but Rebecca had been too weary to view the house.

Heart pounding, he watched her ride into the yard on Star. That she and Star were happy to be reunited was obvious in their jaunty canter into the yard and the affectionate pat on the neck Rebecca gave her mare when they stopped.

“Star seems glad to have you back home,” he said, reaching up to help her dismount. “Now that you’ve had the chance to ride, are you feeling better today?” he asked, admiring the way she’d bundled her hair atop her head. The style gave her a perky look that enhanced her dark beauty. “You’ve been so quiet since we left Crane Landing that I’m a little worried about you.”

She released a long sigh. “I suppose I miss that beautiful bay and the lovely little house I had beside the river.”

“Me, too,” he said, honestly. He would always miss the briney scent of the ocean and the slow way the water seemed to inhale and exhale as if the ocean were a breathing living being.

With their thoughts back at Crane Landing they naturally leaned into each other. Their mouths met and they sank into the kiss as lovers might. They weren’t lovers... yet, but Adam’s blood pumped with the knowledge they would marry soon and share that relationship as well. He forced himself to ease away.

“This is the best I can offer just now, Rebecca. Our house doesn’t sit beside the river, but it’s just a minute’s walk to the gorge. I hope you will like it.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” she said, her voice a little dreamy sounding, which told him that despite her tendency to shy away from setting a wedding date she enjoyed their kisses as much as he did.

“I want it to be more than lovely, Rebecca. I want to give you the world.”

She met his eyes, something in her own unsure and perhaps sad. “I don’t need the world, Adam. I was quite content with that small home on Crane River. I suspect, however, that Jojo would like a house where there aren’t a dozen other cats to contend with.”

“Then let’s have a look at her new home, shall we?” He opened the door and stood aside, his gaze glued to Rebecca as she took in the home she would be sharing with him. He’d asked Faith and Evelyn to set up their house for them so it was ready when he brought Rebecca home.

A sizable fieldstone fireplace took up the west wall and was bracketed by two Windsor armchairs and a sofa that sat upon a thick green and gold carpet. Across the parlor a pier table and mirror had been placed between two tall windows dressed with green draperies. A smaller sitting area with a round tripod table and a fall-front desk gave Rebecca a place to study her veterinarian books if she chose to continue her apprenticeship with Calvin Uldrich.

“The furnishings are lovely, Adam. It will make a nice home for us someday.”

Someday? He intended to marry her as soon as possible.

He placed an ornately carved wooden box in her hands. “The Crane family has given us our first wedding present.”

A confused look lit her eyes. “Should we not wait then... until we know for certain if... when we’ll marry?”

“Not for this gift,” he said, knowing in his gut that today was the right day.

“All right,” she said, hesitantly lifting the lid as if she didn’t feel entitled to the gift because she wasn’t yet Mrs. Adam Grayson. When her gaze landed on the mirror, her breath whooshed out and she gaped at Adam. “Is this what I think it is?”

“I’m afraid so,” he said, still grossly uncomfortable with having received something so near and dear to the Crane family—and a thing of value far beyond what he would ever be able to give Rebecca.

“Oh, Adam...” Amazement filled her expression as her gaze flowed over the mirror and the beautiful ribbon of gemstones surrounding it. “When Mr. Crane described the mirror it sounded so beautiful, but this is... it’s utterly magnificent.”

It was beyond magnificent. Adam had no words to describe the benevolent energy and comforting vibration he felt emanating from the Crane heirloom, but he was spellbound in its presence. Rebecca appeared as thoroughly captivated as he was each time he opened the carved wooden box.

Reverently, Rebecca lifted the hand mirror from its velvet bed and turned the backside to face her.

The six-rayed star sapphire flashed as if a wild creature had opened its eye and fixed its gaze directly on them. The royal crest, stamped in pure silver, created a nest-like setting for the stone. The rays of the sapphire shifted, watching as if it were alive.

Rebecca smiled and brushed the tip of her pointer finger over the surface of the sapphire. “This stone...” Her voice drifted off as if she was so taken with the gem she couldn’t form a complete thought or sentence. “You are magnificent,” she said to the sapphire. She glanced up at him. “Adam, we can’t accept this. It’s too... precious.” Again she stroked the sapphire. “We must return this to the Crane family.”

“I tried. To force the issue will insult them.”

“But it’s far too much,” she said, turning the face of the mirror toward her again.

“People give commensurate with their fortune, Rebecca. As uncomfortable as this gift may make us, it has brought the Cranes peace of mind to give it to us. The best way to show our appreciation is to care for it with love. We must write down the story of Princess Cecily and keep her rich history with the heirloom.”

Allowing Rebecca to admire the mirror, Adam moved behind her and slipped his arms around her. He kissed the side of her head, their eyes meeting in the mirror. A powerful surge of emotion seemed to roll over them like an ocean wave.

He tightened his arms in a gentle hug. “I love you,” he said softly against the shell of her ear. “I want to marry you.”

In their reflection, her eyes searched his for a moment before her gaze fell away.

“Any chance you can see your past in the mirror?” he asked.

He felt the change in her immediately, the way she contracted in his arms and pulled away. “The only thing I can see in the mirror is my present... and my hope for a fulfilling future. I don’t have a past beyond the minute my head connected with that oak log.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“So am I, Adam. I know you’ve lost a lot, but it seems you can only see that girl in your past instead of the woman standing in front of you.”

“I see you, Rebecca. You’ll always be that girl I fell in love with.”

“I don’t even know who she was, Adam. My memories are gone—and that girl went with them.”

“But she might come back, Rebecca. Your memory might return.”

“And it might not, Adam. Life gives and life takes away. The question isn’t whether I’ll ever remember our past but rather will you ever let it go?” She stepped back, away from him, the mirror forgotten in her hand. “I thought you were courting me, not the girl from our past.”

“That girl is you, Rebecca. All of this is for you,” he said, gesturing with open arms to encompass the house, the mirror, his aching, battered heart. “Everything I’ve done has been for you, for this day when we could marry and begin our life together. All I am, all I have to give now and each day for the rest of my life is for you, for the girl I fell in love with and the woman you’ve become. What more must you have before you’re ready to marry me?”

For a minute she said nothing. Then, on a hard sigh, she said, “I need time.”

“Time for what?”

“To figure out if I’m... to decide if I want to stay in Fredonia... to know if I... if I can marry you.”

She could have said nearly anything and shocked him less. Fredonia was her home—their home—and everything they had planned and worked for together was in this beautiful village. Their families were here. The mill was here. Her beloved livery and mare were here.

But Rebecca was somewhere else, and this woman standing before him didn’t know what she wanted or needed.

Her indecisiveness tore him up and broke him down.

Everything he’d ever wanted was here—with Rebecca.

“Adam, you’re moving too fast for me. I just need more time to sort things out and piece my life together again.”

In that moment he finally understood. As Princess Cecily had done when forced to leave her past behind, Adam, too, was forced to let go. Walking away from the dream he’d worked toward for ten years seemed impossible, but it was unfair to push Rebecca into something she wasn’t ready for. She needed time—and maybe even that wouldn’t be enough for her to remember him or their love. Understanding a situation didn’t make it easier to accept, but he knew he must.

Sick inside, he released a trembling breath and pushed his hands deep into his trouser pockets to keep from reaching for her—for the only thing he’d ever wanted. “You’re right that life changes things, Rebecca, but it will never change how I feel about you. I love you too much to hold you to a promise you might not wish to keep. I’ve pushed you to remember us because we have—had—something too beautiful to lose. But this isn’t just my decision. I’m going back to Crane Landing. I release you from your promise and I wish you only happiness and good health and...” He swallowed the grief rising up like bile. “I wish you... love.”

“Oh, Adam...” She clasped the mirror to her chest. “There are things I must... I need to figure out.”

“I understand that you don’t know what you want, Rebecca. I don’t hold that against you. You need time to heal and to pursue a life in whatever manner fulfills you. You deserve to be happy.”

He walked away then. He couldn’t be in her presence one more minute without breaking. He had been feeding the well of her memory, reliving their past with the hope of pumping those memories back into their lives one draught at a time. But that well had remained as empty as his heart suddenly felt.

He moved his legs without knowing they would take him to the willow tree. Enclosed in the cool damp interior circle of the branches, he understood why he had come here. For the last time, he dropped to his knees in that sacred place where he’d built his love with Rebecca. He picked up a flat rock and raked a furrow four inches deep in the soil feeling as if it was his heart he was ripping open. There in the moist soil, where they always buried their stones, he buried his worry stone for the last time. There was nothing more he could do but leave his heartache for the rain.

He was going back to Crane Landing.

He couldn’t live in this village without Rebecca, walk this creek without her hand in his, work the mill where she had lost every precious memory they had ever made together.

He was walking away because he loved her.

Sorrow rolled over him in waves, tumbling him back over the years he’d spent loving her, crushing him beneath the weight of his loss. It left him hunched over his knees, wracked with grief so deep he couldn’t breathe. His Rebecca, the girl who had loved him, the one who would have known what they were losing, would have wept with him.

And that knowledge broke him.

Chapter Twenty-five

Rebecca clutched Princess Cecily’s mirror to her chest and walked through the home she was supposed to share with Adam.

A small part of her was relieved to be released from a promise made in a lifetime she couldn’t remember. The other part of her felt pain deeper than anything she’d experienced during even her most debilitating headaches—because this pain ravaged her heart.

Adam had just walked out of her life.

He was going back to Crane Landing—without her.

Suddenly, all those memories he had shared about a young girl and a boy who loved her beyond reason were leaving with him. Rebecca had both loved and envied those young sweethearts, and sometimes she’d even hated them for threatening the life she was trying to build with Adam.

He had held onto her with one hand... and his past with the other.

She hadn’t held him at all. Not when he had needed her most.

She loved him too much to chain him to a woman who might be mentally unstable.

The thought settled like a rock in her gut. Weighted by guilt and regret, she sank onto the parlor sofa. The magnificent heirloom lay on her lap, a sparkling reminder of Adam’s love. He had treated her like the princess who had owned the beautifully crafted mirror.

She had treated him like a servant.

She hadn’t meant to. From the beginning of their relationship—from the beginning of her memory of them—he had been dedicated and passionate, willing to pluck the stars from the sky had she desired them. He’d made it too easy for her to depend on him... and to love him.

“You deserve more than a broken woman,” she whispered to the empty parlor.

The distant whine of her family’s sawmill a few blocks away seemed to echo the cry in her heart. Adam should be here living in this house, working the mill he loved so much, spending his days in the bosom of his beloved family. Instead, she had chased him away from everything he loved.

He was leaving it all for her—but all she wanted was him and to know she was of sound mind.

But she was a woman who walked the house at night and saw people who were most likely hallucinations, a woman who would never compare to the girl he lost or the young woman who had promised to marry him. This new woman he claimed her to be was as much a stranger to him as he’d been to her—he just couldn’t see past his memories to realize that.

She had no memories to cloud her eyes. She could see her potential illness and what that could mean for Adam.

She could see the man she had fallen in love with—and she had driven that man away for his own good.

o0o

Head down, Adam strode across the Grayson lumberyard hoping no one would approach him. Whenever one of the crew called out a greeting, he merely raised his hand and kept walking. He needed to talk with his father.

Adam found him in the office.

Any other day Adam would have been happy to catch up with his dad and uncles all corralled in one place. Some of his best memories were right here in this office where the Grayson brothers had put on marvelous displays of ribbing and roughhousing. Their joking and brotherly debates had made Adam laugh himself to tears more than once. Seeing them today made his eyes burn with tears of sadness.

Swallowing hard he tried to get hold of his emotions. “Dad, you got a minute?” he asked.

All four Grayson men swung their attention to Adam.

“Morning,” his dad and uncle Kyle said in unison.

Radford greeted him with a nod.

Boyd, not one to miss an opportunity to heckle the youngest partner, pushed a coffee mug into Adam’s hand. “Perfect timing, young blood. I’m ready for my third cup of coffee.”

A surge of sorrow clogged Adam’s throat and cut off his breath. He couldn’t laugh at Boyd’s blatant heckling and make his own wise comeback as he usually would. He couldn’t even summon a smile. All he could do was bite his lip and try to choke down the bitter anger and hurt trying to burst forth.

“Oh, boy,” Boyd said, “looks like I’d better get you a cup of coffee.”

Adam shook his head. He didn’t want coffee. He wanted Rebecca.

“You all right, Adam?” he father asked, his smile fading.

“I have some news about the mill that I need to share with you.” Adam passed the cup back to Boyd. “I had thought to talk with you alone, but...” He swallowed again, cursing the insistent surge of emotion that kept clogging his throat. “This will affect all of you, so I’ll just out with it now. I need to step out as a partner.”

His father frowned. “What?”

Boyd laughed. “Very funny, Adam.” He thrust the cup back at him. “You’re just trying to get out of pouring your uncle a cup of coffee.”

Adam took the cup, turned to the pot sitting atop the small office stove and filled the cup. He handed it to Boyd, who sat with his mouth open. Any other day Adam would have eaten sawdust before succumbing to Boyd’s ridiculous joking command, and his uncle knew it.

“Whoa,” Boyd said, setting the cup aside. “What’s going on, Adam?”

Now that he had the full attention of the four men he respected most in the world, he struggled to find the words to say goodbye. Everything he aspired to be was contained within these strong, honorable Grayson brothers. He’d become a son to one, a nephew to the others, a partner with all of them—something he couldn’t have even imagined when he’d moved to Fredonia ten years ago.

But this had been part of his dream—the one he’d created with Rebecca—and he had to leave it all behind him.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Rebecca and I ended our engagement this morning.” He clamped his mouth shut and tightened his chest to keep his sorrow from erupting in a boyish sob. But he longed to throw himself into the strong arms of these men who had become his friends, who had long ago rescued him from a wretched childhood and had taught him so much about life.

For several seconds all four of them stared, dumbfounded and speechless.

“She’s not ready to marry me,” Adam said, his voice hoarse, his throat aching. “I released her from her promise to me. I’m leaving for Crane Landing today.”

“Slow down, son.” His father, always the one to reason through a situation, gestured for Adam to pull up a chair. “Before you make a rash decision let’s talk this through.”

Adam shook his head, declining the chair and the chat. “There’s nothing left to say, Dad. I’ve been reeling Rebecca back into our relationship from the minute she opened her eyes and didn’t recognize me. It’s not fair to her. She hasn’t had a chance to decide a thing for herself. I’m going back to Crane Landing so she can do that and so I can figure out how to live my life without her in it.”

His father blew out a breath. “I’m honestly so stunned I don’t know what to say.”

His uncle Kyle, the more serious of the brothers, spoke up. “I’m real sorry to hear this, Adam. I think we all are. But you can figure things out right here.”

Adam shook his head. “I can’t live here without Rebecca in my life. You’re her family. She needs to be here with you. This is her home.”

“It’s your home, too, Adam.” His father said.

“That’s right,” Boyd chimed in. “And we are also your family.”

“Are you sure?” Adam asked, casting a sidelong glance at Radford who still seemed unable to believe what was happening.

“What do you mean, are we sure?” his dad asked, offense thick in his voice.

“I’m not questioning our family at home, dad. I’m referring to the Grayson family and the Grayson name. Am I really a Grayson? Am I really part of this family?”

“Gads, Adam, this has rattled your brain,” Boyd said. “I’ve never once questioned if you belong in our family. I may have questioned why you’d want to be, but never that you deserved to be. You’re my nephew and part of this family. Period.”

Adam acknowledged his words with a grateful nod.

“I agree,” Kyle said. “It’s never crossed my mind to think otherwise. You’re my nephew and I’m darn proud of you.”

“Thank you, both of you. It’s just that being adopted into the family I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.” Adam glanced at Radford, willing the man to acknowledge or denounce him as family.

Radford nodded as if he understood. “I learned in the war that family doesn’t always mean blood, Adam. I suspect you and Rebecca will find your way through this rough patch, and that a little time away may do you both a world of good.”

That he didn’t say Adam was family hurt. That he might want Adam far away from his daughter hurt more.

“Rebecca might just need time for things to settle,” Radford continued. “Maybe after a little time alone she’ll better understand her feelings for you. You have the benefit of your past. She has nothing but three months of courting. She’s still discovering foods she likes and how irritating her siblings can be. ”

“That’s right, Adam,” his father said in agreement. “Why not take a few weeks at Crane Landing and then come back to the mill and try to work things out with Rebecca?”

“Sounds like a reasonable plan to me,” Boyd said.

Kyle and Radford said nothing.

“Sir,” Adam said to Radford, “this isn’t just a rift between your daughter and me. Rebecca is deeply confused about what she wants. I’m just muddying the water for her. I’m leaving today. I apologize for not fulfilling my partnership and obligations at the mill. It’s been my dream for so long—” His voice broke. He cleared his aching throat. “I appreciate everything you’ve all done for me.” He sucked in a breath, trying to get through his final farewell as he said goodbye. “Dad, I’d like to take Scout with me this time.”

Because he wasn’t coming back.

His father, a big bear of a man, reached out and pulled Adam into a hug.

Chapter Twenty-six

It had been fifteen long heartrending days since Adam left her. Rebecca missed him and Crane Landing and the wonderful people who were becoming her friends. If only she could find some certainty in her mental health, but her thoughts were growing more peculiar by the day.

She was growing closer with her family, but still experienced moments of being overwhelmed in the busy house full of people. She had spent the majority of her days in the livery as she had every day since returning to Fredonia. Since coming home, she had helped Calvin Uldridge treat an infected hock on a neighbor’s horse and an abscess tooth on another. She remembered a good deal about the treatments but nothing about the two years he’d been teaching her his trade, still it was one of few times when her mind was occupied with something other than Adam.

Neither Doc Milton nor Doc Finlay could give her any answers about her odd ability to recall certain things and remain completely blank about other areas of her life.

They didn’t know why she remembered some things and not others. It seemed she could recall the how but not the who. She remembered how to do things, as if her body could simply take over the task. But when her mind got involved it was as if she had snuffed a lantern. Everything disappeared into blackness.

As she helped her mother put supper on the table as she’d done every night since Adam took the train that carried him out of her life, she was silent and thoughtful. Sighing, she placed a platter of roast meat on the table followed by a bread basket with piping hot rolls.

She was trying to rebuild her life in Fredonia in the midst of her loving family, but her heart longed for Crane Landing and a man she couldn’t forget—and a boy she couldn’t remember.

If only she could be that girl Adam hung onto with such unshakable love. The memories he’d shared with her about that sweet young couple made her heart bleed.

“Are you unwell, Rebecca?” her mother asked, drying her hands on her apron.

“I’m fine, Mama,” she said, but she wasn’t fine. Physically she was free of pain, but her thoughts were frightening her, and lo but her heart ache was more painful than her worst headache. Although she had tried to occupy her mind, it seemed nothing could divert her thoughts from Adam.

He was her supper companion and was still on her mind late that evening when she wandered out to the porch. The younger children were in bed and her mother was sitting down for what seemed the first time all day.

“Do you ever tire of tending to everyone, Mother?” Rebecca asked, sitting beside her on the porch swing.

“My body gives up long before my heart does,” her mother said, giving Rebecca a tired smile. “But I enjoy tending my children.” She reached out and stroked Rebecca’s hair as if she’d done it a hundred times.

It felt nice.

“What’s bothering you, sweetie?” She pulled Rebecca’s hair behind her shoulder. “You’ve been quiet and preoccupied all evening.”

Her mother’s touch was deeply comforting. “I’m scared, Mama.” She met her mother’s concerned eyes, desperate to talk with someone about her fears. Doc Samuel told her to talk with someone she could trust with her worries. If her mind was indeed splintering and becoming unstable then her mother would know eventually anyway. “My thoughts are so confused that I’m afraid I’ll never be normal again.”

“What do you mean by confused?”

“If I tell you, you’ll think I’m daft—and maybe I am. Maybe I should be in an asylum.”

Her mother smiled. “You are as sane as the rest of us. Now what are you confused about?”

“I’m having disturbing thoughts, Mama, and I’m afraid I’ll hurt your feelings if I tell you about them.”

“Rebecca, you can tell me anything no matter what it is.”

“Even if it’s about you?”

“Especially if it’s about me,” she said, sitting up a bit on the swing. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, Mama, it’s nothing like that. You are a sweet, dear woman and I honestly love you. I just keep having this thought that you aren’t my real mother.” There. She’d said it. Now her mother would know just how dotty that knock on the head had made her.

“If you mean real as in giving birth to you, then you’re not confused, Rebecca. Your father brought you home when you were four years old. I fell in love with you the minute I met you. I’ve loved you every minute since and have never thought of you as anything other than my beloved daughter.”

“Wait... are you saying... Mama, are you saying I’m not confused?”

“Not only are you not confused but you are remembering parts of your life, sweetheart, unless of course someone has told you this information.”

Rebecca shook her head and brought her hands to her mouth. She stared into the dark night, her mind spinning. No one had said a word to her about this. She couldn’t have asked about this any more than she could ask about Adam’s mother. Who would she ask? Secrets such as this were often the skeletons in the closet that families didn’t talk about. Adam said they had many secrets shared just between them. Was his mother one of those secrets or was Rebecca teetering on the edge of madness? The only way to know was to ask, and the only person she could ask was Adam.

Rebecca felt the gentle stroke of her mother’s fingers across her shoulder. “It’s hard to imagine that there was a time when you weren’t my daughter, and it makes me sad to think what could have been had your father not brought you home,” her mother said, and quickly filled her in on the circumstances of her birth. “I hope this hasn’t upset you too deeply.”

Rebecca shook her head and looked straight into her mother’s eyes, her own misting with hope. “It makes me very happy, Mama. I remembered something! And I remember you. I don’t remember anything else about you, but I do remember your smile and the gentleness of your touch.”

Her mother’s eyes were filled with so much warmth and love that Rebecca knew without a doubt they had shared many beautiful moments together.

“What was she like, the woman who gave birth to me?” Rebecca asked.

Her mother shook her head. “I honestly don’t know. I’ve never met her, and your father has rarely ever mentioned her.”

“Do you think Daddy would tell me about her?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I do. He’s been expecting you to ask about her for years.”

Rebecca glanced toward the livery where a light glowed from the tack room window. Her father was there now finishing up for the night. “Before I go, do you know if there is such a thing as a hoop snake, Mama?”

The question brought her mother to a full upright sitting position, her expression stunned. “Did you see a snake, Rebecca?”

“No, but I keep having the strangest thoughts about a hoop snake all rolled up like a carriage wheel. It’s rolling right toward me and I don’t know what to think. Then Daddy appears and he... he shoves another man away from me and snarls at him like a vicious dog, and then I see another older man laughing, like something has tickled his funny bone. I think I know him, but his name escapes me.” Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t know if these are memory fragments or if I’m confused or hallucinating. It’s terribly distressing.”

“Oh, Rebecca... I think you’re beginning to remember things.” Her mother clasped her hands. “What did the older man look like?”

“The man laughing at the hoop snake?”

“Yes.”

Rebecca shrugged. “He was a good bit older than Daddy, I think. His hair was white and sort of thin and... he had a nice laugh. It was a happy sound and I quite liked it.”

Tears welled up in her mother’s eyes. “He did have a happy laugh,” she said, her voice thick. “I’m pretty sure that man is your grandfather, my papa, and that you are remembering one of the tall tales he used to tell you. One day when you were just a little girl you saw a snake in our garden. When you screamed, your Daddy rushed to protect you and he snarled at Uncle Kyle because he was so scared. To help you calm down your grandpa told you a tall tale about a hoop snake. I’m not sure why you’re recalling those particular incidents, but you are indeed beginning to remember things.”

Rebecca squeezed her mother’s fingers. “Then I’m not confused or hallucinating or losing my mind?”

A light laugh burst from her mother and she pulled Rebecca into a warm hug. “No, sweetie, I think you’re healing.”

When her mother released her, Rebecca sank back on the swing seat, her mind awhirl as she met her mother’s eyes. “I may not remember the days and events of our lives, Mama, but I feel a great love for each of you. My family is still in here,” she said, pressing her palm to her heart. “I just want you to know that. I love you, Mama, and I am so incredibly grateful that my father chose you for both of us.”

Her mother’s eyes misted and she stroked Rebecca’s hair. “From the moment I saw you I knew we desperately needed each other. I think we still do.”

Rebecca nodded, feeling their bond and mother-daughter friendship. “I wish I could remember more of our time together and more about my life,” she said, settling against the swing back. “But I feel as if I’ve just received the best gift of my life.”

“I think you will remember.” Her mother snuggled in beside her. “You’re young and have the rest of your life to recapture your lost memories.

“Not if I want to marry Adam. He wants back the girl he fell in love with, and he’s not going to wait a lifetime to find her.”

“Are you certain of that?” her mother asked gently.

With a small nod, Rebecca said, “Yes, unfortunately, I am certain.” She kissed her mother’s cheek and got to her feet. “I need to talk with Daddy.”

She found her father in a stall filing a chipped hoof on one of their beautiful Morgans named Simon.

When he looked up and saw it was her, his file stopped mid-stroke and his jaw dropped. “You aren’t sleepwalking, are you?” he asked, adding a playful wink.

With a light laugh, she leaned against the stall door. “What was my birth mother’s name?”

He released a quiet whistle, lowered the file and stood.

“Mama said you’ve been waiting years for me to ask about her.”

Blowing out a breath, he scraped his hair back with one hand and set the file on the half-wall of the stall. “I have, but I certainly didn’t expect that day to be tonight.” Opening the door, he stepped out of the stall. “Are you all right?”

She nodded and assured him with a soft smile. “I’m fine, Daddy. I remembered a little bit about Mama today and she helped me sort out my confusion. She said you could tell me about the woman who gave birth to me.”

His face flattened and his eyes darkened with intensity. “You remembered something?”

She nodded.

“Oh, sprite...” He swept her into his arms, hugged her hard and placed a quick kiss to the side of her head. He released her in the next instant as if realizing she still didn’t remember him, but his eyes glistened and he seemed to be wrestling with his emotions.

“My memories are fragmented and few, Daddy.” She didn’t want to give him false hope. “May I ask her name?” she asked.

He nodded and seemed to pull himself together. “Her name is Olivia Jordon. I met her shortly after the war when I... when I was in a very bad place. She was a dancer touring with the ballet at the time. It shames me to admit it, but we had a brief affair until her troop moved to another theater in another city. I didn’t see her again until several months later when she came back with you. She told me you were my daughter and then left without you.” He shook his head. “As long as I live I’ll never understand how she could have walked away. You were only a few weeks old.”

Rebecca pressed her palm to her queasy stomach. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.”

“Taking you in my arms was the best moment of my life,” he said, seeming to struggle with the need to hold his child in his arms again.

“Where is she now?” Rebecca asked. “Did she ever contact you to ask about me?”

Sadly, he shook his head. “No, honey, I’m sorry.”

Rebecca quietly digested the information wondering why she didn’t feel deeply wounded. Perhaps it was because she’d been happy and had a wonderful mother in Evelyn.

“I’ve kept tabs on her in the event you ever felt a need to see her. She lives in New York and is sponsored by a wealthy banker.”

Rebecca’s gaze snapped to her father’s face. “Sponsored? Is she still dancing?”

“No, honey.”

Rebecca cocked her head, confused.

“She never married,” her father said, as if that would clarify things for Rebecca.

And a few seconds later it did. “Oh, my,” she said, realizing that a sponsored woman was a kept woman and that her mother was the banker man’s mistress.

Her father sorrowfully shook his head. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish I could have told you a kinder story.”

Feeling immensely grateful to this strong, wonderful man, Rebecca stepped into his arms and saved him the struggle of trying not to hold her. “Thank you for everything, Daddy. I’m so grateful you loved me and found such a remarkable, loving mother for me. Thank you for being such a kind and gentle father.”

Chapter Twenty-seven

Scout went to work with Adam each day. For three weeks, the dog prowled the vast shipyard making friends with the crew, begging scraps from their lunch tins, and sleeping the day away while Adam worked himself to exhaustion. Any minute that his mind wasn’t occupied with work, thoughts of Rebecca took up residence.

Thinking of her was excruciating.

Leo had told Adam to accept the fact that he would be worthless for a long time, and it wasn’t far from the truth. Adam could work his way through any problem or challenge at the sawmill, or in the shipyard, but the minute his thoughts turned to Rebecca he was lost in a world of heartache.

He wondered if she was healthy and happy, as he hoped she was, but he didn’t write to ask. Even one word to her would open a floodgate of emotion that would drown both of them. He couldn’t do that to her again. It was enough that he’d pushed her away with his incessant talk of the past. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to lose his best friend Rebecca Grayson who knew him better than he knew himself. He wanted the girl who knew about his past and loved him anyway.

Hard work was the only way for him to escape her, and so he worked until dark. Then he would bathe the sweat from his aching body and spend a couple of hours at The Crowe’s Nest listening to his friends’ conversations. He would stop at two mugs and head home to Scout. Ever faithful, the dog would be curled up on his bunk, alone or with Blue, awaiting his return. Every night Adam fought for his share of the mattress—and for sleep. Every morning he woke choking on the grief lodged like a bone in his throat.

He and Scout haunted the river at night, walking the path he’d worn between the bunkhouse and the little home Rebecca had occupied while she stayed at Crane Landing. The house was dark now, the back porch empty. She wasn’t there to greet him with her sweet white smile and starlit eyes. There was only the howl of a timber wolf giving voice to the aching loneliness Adam felt.

Scout sidled closer to Adam’s leg, too old to fight now.

“It’s okay, buddy. He’s looking for a mate, not a fight.” He bent down to give Scout some reassurance with a scratch behind the ears, and a light from the other side of the river caught his attention. “Who else but Dawson Crane would be awake at two o’clock in the morning?” he asked himself.

Scout nudged his leg.

“Yeah, I know. You and me.” After a few seconds of peering at the distant light, Adam ruffled the fur on Scout’s back. “Let’s make sure Dawson is all right.”

They backtracked to the bridge where Adam and Rebecca had lingered one evening talking about what it might be like to live in Crane Landing. Dreamy-eyed, Rebecca had plucked bright yellow petals from one of the wildflowers he’d picked for her and dropped them from the bridge where he had kissed her and told her he loved her. She made a wish and watched the colorful petals drift away. What she’d wished for he never knew.

“Come on, boy,” he said, picking up his pace to put the bridge and painful memories behind him. At one time he’d been overwhelmed with sympathy and heartache for Rebecca because she had lost her memories, but now he wondered if she wasn’t the more fortunate of them to not be tormented by their past as he was.

As he neared the small house on the hill he spied Dawson sitting on the porch smoking a cheroot. Lazy swirls of smoke drifted in the night air. The field around the house was alive with crickets and the sound of peepers coming from the river just two hundred feet away.

“Wondered when you were going to stop by,” Dawson said, his graveled voice sounding loud in the night.

Scout yelped a greeting, and Adam quickly shushed him.

“Saw your light on,” Adam said. “Thought I’d make sure you were all right.”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since I fell on my head twenty years ago. Haven’t found a suitable answer yet, least wise one I can agree with.”

The man’s peculiar ways made Adam smile. Dawson had always been an eccentric and interesting man. He had the Crane name and the Crane fortune and he didn’t care a whit about either. He cared about the animals that found sanctuary on his property. He cared about the stars in the night sky and what might be up there with them. From the dimmest star above to the smallest creature on earth, Dawson Crane cared enough to document his interests in pen and ink or in living color on canvas.

“Mind if Scout and I rest our sorry selves on your porch for a spell?” Adam asked.

Dawson tapped his cheroot against the porch railing to knock off the ashes. “Company would be nice. Haven’t had any callers this time of night since your gal was staying in the house across the river.”

Stunned, Adam stared at Dawson, wondering if the man was imagining things.

“She stopped by a couple of times. Once to say hello. Once to say goodbye.”

“At two o’clock in the morning?” Adam asked, giving Dawson a gentle reminder that it was the middle of the night when most people were in bed sound asleep.

“As I recall it was just before three o’clock in the morning when she walked up the hill to say hello and have a neighborly chat. Came by half past midnight to say goodbye.”

“Dawson, are you sure about this? I suspect Rebecca would have been asleep like everyone else during the night.” But Adam knew about Rebecca’s restless wandering at night. He just assumed she had done her wandering in her house or on her porch.

Dawson took a long drag on the cheroot and released the smoke in one big puff. “We’re not the only ones who wander in the night, Adam. Your gal had a head full of worry when she sat on this porch the night before she left for Fredonia.”

Flabbergasted, Adam sat mute. Rebecca came here? To talk with Dawson? In the middle of the night?

“About what?” he finally asked. “I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”

Dawson shrugged. “Same worry that’s plagued me for twenty years—am I crazy?”

“What?” Adam stared at the man. People had found Dawson eccentric and even questioned his tales at times, but never in Adam’s presence had anyone questioned Dawson’s sanity. For Dawson to question his own mental stability was unsettling and... sad. To think Rebecca was having those same concerns tore Adam’s heart out.

He had thought her lost memories and his inability to let them go at the root of her unrest. He hadn’t realized she had deeper concerns. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that her confusion was causing her to question her mental stability.

Was she still struggling with this, or had he alone been the cause of her confusion? He needed to know. He wanted to board the morning train for Fredonia and assure Rebecca in person that she was whole and beautiful and perfectly sane. But seeing him again might make matters worse. Seeing her again would torture him. Not knowing would kill him.

“How’s your grandmother getting along?” Dawson asked, interrupting the battle Adam was waging in his mind. “She’s a fine lady. Made me feel like a young man again. I might like to see her again one day.”

“Then maybe you should take a trip to Fredonia.” And maybe he should, too, Adam, thought. But then he remembered why he left, to release Rebecca from the pressure of his consuming and perhaps overly demanding love, and he knew he couldn’t go back. But he could call Radford at the mill.

“Dawson, I have to go. I need to be at the C&G office early tomorrow. I’ll tell my grandmother you asked about her.”

Dawson glanced at Adam. “I understand. Morning’s going to come early for you.”

“Doesn’t usually come early enough,” Adam replied honestly. Sleep brought dreams, and dreams brought Rebecca in all her ages and stages. From skinned knees to hair ribbons and marriage plans, Rebecca danced through his dreams, turning him round, wringing him out, shaking him awake with her name on his lips and his heart in shreds.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Dressed in her night clothes, Rebecca sat alone in her room looking in Princess Cecily’s hand mirror while she brushed her hair. She preferred the soft light of her oil lamp at night and its calming flicker that reflected in the mirror. Holding the heirloom made her feel closer to Adam, even though it was his final parting gift. Like Princess Cecily who must have felt utterly lost in a new world so unlike her homeland, Rebecca felt adrift.

“How did you find your way, Princess?” she whispered, tracing her fingers over the ribbon of beautiful gemstones, wishing she could talk with the courageous princess. For a long while she gazed at the mirror without seeing, letting her thoughts wander. Images of Adam filled her mind and reflected in the silvered pool of the mirror. He twirled her slowly in his manly arms, once... twice... their bodies flush, their hearts beating with love for each other... and around they turned again as if winding back a clock until she was gazing into the eyes of a skinny boy with a contagious laugh and feet that were two sizes too big for his growing body. Warmth and joy suffused her and she clung to his neck, dizzy from their playful spin and giddy with love.

As if watching from the top of their willow tree, she observed the young sweethearts absorbed in their moment of joy and love for one another. Days swirled by as they dashed along the rocky shore of the creek, splashing barefoot through the shallows, throwing stones, sitting on rocks with their bare feet in the water, talking and laughing and dreaming. Adam grew into his feet and Rebecca filled out her dresses and still they met and played beneath the willow. They danced in the moonlight beside the shimmering creek, gazing into each other’s eyes, their love too big to convey with words. Their spinning made Rebecca dizzy and she felt herself falling, hurtling toward the rock-strewn ground below.

With a gasp, Rebecca dropped the mirror to her lap and splayed her hands beside her on the bed, trying to maintain her balance while the spinning motion in her head calmed and finally... blessedly stopped.

“Oh, my...” she whispered, gripping her head, feeling woozy. Whatever happened was both frightening and exhilarating. She didn’t know if she had seen the images in the mirror or in her mind, if she was remembering or hallucinating, but it no longer mattered.

As her heartbeat slowed and her mind cleared, she sat up and returned the mirror to the velvet lined box.

Then she opened another box—the one her mother said Adam had made for her.

She turned on the lamp on her nightstand and snuffed the oil lantern. She needed enough light to read. Instead of prowling the house from dark until dawn, Rebecca read through the letters and notes Adam had written to her. Hour after hour she immersed herself in the sweet words of a boy enamored by a girl he couldn’t have, and of a young man setting off to become the sort of man worthy of her. In one letter he referred to her as “Birdie,” a nickname that made Rebecca laugh. It apparently didn’t stick, thank goodness, because the next letter began with his usual salutation of My dearest Rebecca. At twenty he’d become a man in full possession of himself, assured and confident and more deeply committed to his lifelong love—her. He wrote about the university and his ideas and the plans he had for them. His words were filled with longing and honest, undecorated confessions of love—for her. Everything was always for her.

She wept and she laughed throughout the night as she read through a decade of their loving each other. At dawn she heard her father and brother leave for the mill, and she continued to read. Adam’s letters helped her understand him and his desperate desire for her to remember their past that contained so many dreams and so much love. She wished she had read them sooner, but she had been a frightened, hurting mess before she went to see Doc Samuel, and she couldn’t have read anything at that time without making her head pound. She didn’t have the box of letters at Crane Landing—she had Adam. And she’d forgotten about the letters until now.

Now she understood Adam’s inability to let go of their past love, and with that understanding came a surge of regret and pain that cut through her.

She’d lost their love when she’d lost her memory—and she’d thrown it away when Adam had tried to give it back to her.

Trembling and hoping she wasn’t too late, she threw on her riding habit and slipped out of the house.

Seated on the strong back of her mare, she and Star rode as one being. They knew each other to the most minute movement and had been together for years. Of this Rebecca was certain. She didn’t have to remember it, she knew it. Just like she knew she loved Adam Grayson. She always had and she always would.

Star balked at the entrance of the mill and the noise in the yard, and Rebecca stopped there. She dismounted and left her skittish horse safely at the gate.

She strode across the mill feeling more desperate with each step. When she spied her father, she ran toward him waving her hand above her head to get his attention. The surprise in his eyes was immediately replaced with fierce concern. Rebecca didn’t stop. She needed her father—fathers fixed things. She ran straight into his arms and burst into tears. “Daddy, I need your help.”

Chapter Twenty-nine

Adam was in his usual seat at The Crowe’s Nest talking with Leo when Radford Grayson walked in. At six-foot-five inches Radford wasn’t a man one could miss. Adam’s heart skipped a beat, and his first thought was Rebecca. Was she all right? What business did Radford have here? Was Rebecca with him? A dozen thoughts skittered through Adam’s mind as Radford surveyed the tavern—and then headed directly toward him.

Standing, Adam met Radford as he arrived. “I must admit that I’m surprised to see you, sir. I hope all is well.”

“I came to apologize for breaking my promise to you. I had to tell Rebecca about your call to the mill last week,” he said without preamble.

Adam shook Radford’s hand. “I probably shouldn’t have called, but I just... I needed to know that she was all right. I apologize and hope my call didn’t distress her overmuch.”

“She’s distressed, but not because of your call.” Radford turned and greeted Leo. “Good to see you, young man. Would you mind if I joined you two for a spell? I’ve got some business with Adam.”

“Good to see you as well, sir.” Leo stood, shook Radford’s hand, and offered his chair. “I’m off to refill my mug. I’ll be a while so make yourself comfortable,” he said, then headed toward the crowded bar.

Adam barely noted their exchange as he sat in his chair. What was Rebecca distressed about? It must be bad if it had brought Radford to Crane Landing.

“Rebecca is not with me,” Radford said. “I suspect that’s the main thing on your mind at the moment.”

“There are many things on my mind,” Adam said truthfully.

Radford gave a small nod. “I suspect there is. I’ve got a few things on my mind as well. And I have a few things to say to you.”

Adam cringed. Was this where he and Radford would cross words? He had hoped to have nothing but enjoyable conversations between them, but Radford apparently had some things to say and they were important enough to bring him to Crane Landing.

“Is Rebecca all right?” Adam asked.

“No,” Radford answered. “But I’ll get to that in a minute. I want to say straight out that I know our relationship hasn’t been the same since Rebecca’s accident. I don’t blame you for what happened to her, Adam, but when I saw my little girl broken and bleeding I lost all sense of reason. I was angry and more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. Not even during the worst battles of the war did I experience that depth of fear. I literally felt ice in my veins.”

Adam nodded because he understood. “I haven’t drawn a full breath since that day,” he said. “If I could change places with Rebecca I’d do so in an instant.”

“I know you would, Adam. That’s one of the reasons I admire you and feel so bad about the unspoken rift between us. This business about you questioning whether you’re part of our family has been eating at me since you left. Adam, I don’t consider you a nephew because I’ve always thought of you as my future son-in-law. I was so stunned by your announcement about you and Rebecca ending your engagement that I didn’t have the words to say this to you at the time. When I call you son, Adam, I mean just that. To me, you’re my son. I apologize if my actions have put that question in your mind. But I can’t apologize for loving my children too much and that it makes me too protective at times.”

Adam nodded. “And I can’t apologize for loving your daughter too much.”

“Then perhaps you’ll consider coming home,” Radford said. “My daughter is broken. She’s lost without you.”

“Maybe she’s just lost without her memories. Maybe it has nothing to do with me.”

“I disagree. I know my daughter, Adam. She loves you and her upset is because of the rift between you two.”

Adam said nothing because he was fighting to hold back the flood of emotion swelling inside him like a tidal wave.

“Maybe this will make you think otherwise.” Radford drew a folded paper from his shirt pocket. “Rebecca asked me to give this to you.”

Adam’s hands trembled as he opened the note. A word from Rebecca, any word from her, was a gift.

My dearest Adam,

At Mrs. Redburn’s house we delivered—a baby.

I have more to share—and more to ask.

Please meet me at our willow this coming Friday at our usual time.

Yours,

Rebecca

Radford stood. “I’m heading back in the morning. Anything you want me to tell Rebecca?”

For a full minute Adam sat speechless. Did Rebecca remember the baby delivery or had someone told her about it? What more did she have to share? What did she need to ask?

“Adam?” Radford rapped his knuckles on the scarred wooden table top. “Any message?”

“No, sir,” he said, because his mind was spinning too fast to capture a clear thought.

Disappointment filled Radford’s eyes, but he gave Adam a nod of acceptance. “All right, son. I hope you’ll give some more thought to coming home.”

o0o

An ocean breeze rolled into the bay and across the dock where Adam sat mulling over his unexpected note from Rebecca. Thousands of stars lit the dark sky, and a breathy ocean song filled his ears. It was a night made for romance... or for a person to feel like the loneliest soul alive.

Footsteps sounded behind him, and Adam turned to see Leo approaching.

“For a smart man you can be the world’s biggest fool,” Leo said, cuffing Adam in the head as he rounded the bench to stand in front of him.

“Thanks, Leo.” Adam rubbed his head. “I came out here to clear my head, not get it knocked off my shoulders by my best friend.”

“Well, someone needs to wake you up! What are you thinking, man? You’re going to lose that girl for good.” Leo sat on the bench beside Adam. “Why are you sulking out here alone when you should be packing a bag and catching the first train home?”

“I don’t know.” Adam shook his head. “She says she’s not ready to get married, but I can’t help wondering if it’s because she’s changed and doesn’t feel the same about me anymore. I’m afraid I don’t really know her, Leo. She’s different since her accident.”

“Of course she’s different, Adam. She’s six years older than when you left for university. You’ve only been home for a few weeks at a time since then, and hardly at all this last eighteen months. I think she gets confused at times because of the accident, but I don’t think her changes can all be attributed to getting a knock on the head. How much time have you actually spent with Rebecca during the past six years?”

“Not nearly enough.”

“How much have you changed and grown during that time?” Leo asked. “How much did Rebecca really know you before her accident? Adam, maybe you are seeing the real Rebecca.”

The comment hurt. Rebecca had become a woman in his absence. He knew the girl from his past. He remembered his teen sweetheart. He learned about her life in her letters, but the woman she’d become in his absence was an intriguing mystery to him. Each visit home had been connected by points of reference to their past and their young love. The time they had spent together in Crane Landing was their first prolonged adult romance ever—and it was real. Of that he was certain.

“Leo, have you ever wanted something so badly it eats you up every single day?”

“Yeah, Adam. I want to find my brothers.”

Adam groaned at his stupidity and insensitivity. Leo and his brothers had all been shipped out to orphanages and were young boys the last time they had seen each other. Only Benny had remained with Leo. Adam had spent the last ten years helping Leo look for his lost siblings, and they still hadn’t located them. “I’m so sorry, Leo. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re not thinking, Adam. How could you have let Radford leave without a return message for Rebecca? She was asking you to come home!”

“For what purpose?” Adam asked, exasperated. “She told me only weeks ago she’s not ready to marry me. What else could she want?”

“I don’t know, Adam, and unless you go home you won’t know either.”

Jaw clamped, Adam stared across the dark water. “I can’t go back, Leo. I can’t cause Rebecca any more heartache. I’ve put her through too much already.”

“You know, Adam, Rebecca isn’t the only one who has been changed because of her accident. It’s changed you, too. I’ve wanted to talk with you, but you were too wounded.” Leo hooked his hand over Adam’s shoulder. “Miss Tansy wrote to me about the accident and asked me to watch over you. I know what happened, Adam, and it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” Adam said, his eyes still focused on the dark body of water. “She was there because of me. She wasn’t paying attention because she was looking at me.”

“Regardless why she was there, it was her responsibility to keep herself safe. As for whether she still cares for you, all you have to do is look in her eyes. From the first time I met her I knew she was your girl. Not because you warned me to stay away from her, but because of the way she looked at you. She loved you. I saw it in her eyes then and I see it in her eyes now. Wake up, Adam, before it’s too late.”

They fell silent. Adam’s mind was too full to think clearly about anything. “We’ve been through a lot together, Leo. I sure hope this is the worst of it.”

“Me, too,” Leo said, “but nothing stays the same, Adam. If I ever find my brothers I know they won’t be the kids they were when we were split up and dumped at the orphanages. I pray they all survived to manhood and are happy, prosperous men. I’m eager to get to know them, to hear their ideas and dreams and meet their families. I hope they remember our past when we were all together, but it’s all right if they don’t. Living in the past offers us nothing. It’s where they are now and what’s in their future, in our future as a family, that I’m interested in.” He leaned his elbows on his thighs and sighed. “You can’t keep clinging to the past, Adam. It’s gone. All you’ve got is the present and a dream for your future.”

Adam nodded at the painful truth. “What if you don’t find your brothers?” he asked.

Leo lifted his head, his profile strong against the backdrop of night. “I’ll find them,” he said with certainty. “It might take the rest of my life, but I will find them. You don’t quit on your dreams, Adam.”

Chapter Thirty

Rain fell in thick sheets that drenched Rebecca’s riding habit within a minute of leaving the livery, but she would not turn back. Her heart thundered and her thoughts flashed like lightning bolts through her mind. Would Adam be there? Why hadn’t he given her father a message? Did he still love her? Or had she hurt him too deeply and completely broken his heart?

On and on her thoughts struck with searing pain as she rode toward the willow tree.

Despite the downpour the rocky creek bed was low as Star picked her way along its loamy shore. The rain was as necessary as the summer sunshine that was scorching the grass. Rebecca needed Adam like the willow and the creek needed the rain. If he didn’t come home... if he wouldn’t meet her... She shook her head unable to bear the pain of that outcome.

“Adam, please be there,” she whispered.

But he wasn’t there when she arrived at the willow.

“Adam?” she called, hoping he was just hidden inside the umbrella of drooping, dripping branches.

Not a word or a wave hello or the sight of his handsome face welcomed her.

“Oh, Adam...” Her whispered heartbreak seemed to speak to her mare.

Star walked to the tree, pushed through the long dangling branches and stopped inside as she’d apparently done many times before. Rain poured down through the tree, splattering across the sodden ground.

Unmindful of the deluge, Rebecca leaned forward and draped herself over her mare’s neck. “You remember, don’t you, my beauty? You’re telling me we’ve been here before.” Pressing her face to the horses’ wet coat, Rebecca choked back a hard sob. “He’s not coming home...”

Star shifted her hooved feet, sinking in the saturated earth beneath the tree. She shuddered her shoulders, blowing out a gruff whinny as if to tell Rebecca to get off and stand on her own two feet.

Swallowing hard, Rebecca gathered her sodden skirt and dismounted. Her boots sank deep into the fecund earth. For a few minutes she stood in the rainfall uncaring about her clothes. She removed her hat and raised her face to the rain. “Dear God, please wash away this pain. I can’t bear it...”

She didn’t know how long she stood there thinking about Adam and all she’d lost or when exactly the urge came over her to search for whatever it was she felt she’d lost beneath the tree, but she found herself pacing off six steps from the trunk of the willow. There, she sank to her knees unmindful of the mud and runnels of water pooling around her skirt. She took up the closest sizable stone and began scraping the soggy earth, turning up decayed leaves and small sticks and pebbles. Something important was here. She didn’t know it—she felt it. And so she dug until she had scraped an area several inches wide.

Rain splattered across her head and shoulders, tumbling her hair down her back in a sodden mess. Soaked to the skin, she methodically dragged her fingers through the earth letting the rain wash over her as she dug up leaves and twigs and pebbled earth.

She knew the instant her fingers rolled over the stone what she’d been looking for.

The stone in her skirt pocket was a worry stone. Adam’s stone was in her muddy hand. He’d left it here along with his heartache for the rain to wash clean.

These scraps of memory tortured her as if her mind were a prisoner being fed just enough to keep her alive. A sob burst from her throat and she wept hard and deep. She wanted to remember everything about their stones and the memories they had surely made beneath this tree.

o0o

The rain had delayed his trip to Fredonia, but Adam went to the willow tree anyway. Rebecca wouldn’t be out in the deluge, of course. He knew that. But he needed to go there.

He needed to get his legs beneath him. They felt weak and shaky as if they feared the uncertainty of their direction. Should he go see her? Should he turn around and walk away before Rebecca tore out another piece of his heart? His indecision was playing havoc with his body as much as his head.

Rain pounded his shoulders and splattered noisily against the rocks around him. Thick runnels of water streamed across the rocky shore and drained into the creek. Head down to shield his face from the stinging rain drops, he barely looked where he was going. He’d walked the creek so many times he could do it by rote. When he approached the flat rock by the bend in the creek he knew that he’d reached the willow tree. Parting the wet branches, he stepped inside and removed his hat to dump the water off.

Rebecca’s beautiful black mare stood across from him, her coat and saddle wet, her mane sparkling with raindrops.

Beside Star, kneeling on the sodden ground was Rebecca. Rain—and tears?—streamed down her face as she looked up at him. Her hands were covered in mud and she was drenched.

“I remembered our worry stones,” she said. “I remember the baby we delivered and that my mother didn’t give birth to me. During our trip to Crane Landing I was daydreaming as you and Daddy said, but I was actually remembering the trip I took to Buffalo with Grandma when I was nine. She was the lady with red hair that I talked with. I recalled a story my grandfather told me and why we buried our stones here. But there’s one thing I simply must ask you, Adam. I hope for our sake that it’s true, but for your sake it isn’t.”

Finding her here... soaked, digging in the earth and talking in riddles he couldn’t understand, scared him nearly as much as the fall that had stolen her memories. “Rebecca, darling, what’s wrong? You can ask me anything. You know that.”

Her dark tear-filled eyes locked with his. “Was your mother a prostitute?”

Her question hit him like a fist in the stomach, punching his breath out on a gasp. “Is this why you have reservations about marrying me?” he asked. He understood why, but it tore him apart.

“Please, Adam. Forgive me, but I must know.”

“Yes,” was all he said because he couldn’t squeeze another word past the lump in his throat.

A small sob burst from her mouth and she rocked on her knees. “It seems our mothers made the same poor choices.”

“The same choices?”

She nodded, tears slipping from her eyes. “Different circumstances, but the same outcome only my mother has a wealthier sponsor. Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry to ask this of you, but knowing that these thoughts are actual memories and not the result of an unstable mind, is such a...” Her voice broke and she struggled to finish. She opened her clenched fist and showed him the stone he’d buried on a few weeks ago. “These thoughts... these memories are all I might ever get back, but they are real memories and not the thoughts of a madwoman. Adam, if this is enough for you, I’d like to... I want...” She bit her lip as tears flowed from her eyes. As he stood in stunned surprise, a hard sob burst from her and she wept as she gazed up at him. “I miss you so deeply, Adam...”

He fell to his knees and pulled her into his arms. “Rebecca... my darling... .my beautiful wonderful lifelong sweetheart, what is happening?” he asked, rocking her in his arms.

“I don’t remember our love, Adam. I feel it.” She leaned back and met his eyes, her own dark and filled with pain. “I feel it.” She pressed her muddy fist to her chest. “I know our love, Adam—in my heart. Everything is in my heart and it’s tearing me apart.”

Another sob broke her confession.

He held her as the rain poured over the tree and splattered down upon them. It plastered their clothing to their bodies and their hair to their heads. And there was nowhere else he could have wanted to be in that moment. He could barely believe that Rebecca was in his arms sharing her memories and acknowledging their love.

She loved him.

Her feelings were honest and true and from the woman she’d become through the years and heartaches and hardships of her life. She hadn’t fallen in love because of her memories of him or their teen love. They were moving forward instead of backward. Adam had been going back for so long; back to Fredonia... back to Rebecca... back to the dream of a young boy that he’d never considered another direction. Rebecca had no choice but to move forward from where she was right now. She was doing her best to “grow where she was planted.” And he hadn’t seen it. He hadn’t heard Rebecca. He hadn’t allowed a single other possibility into his mind for fear of losing everything that had kept him going during his years away. Ironically, his desperate need to cling to his past had nearly ruined his future and he’d almost lost the only thing that had ever mattered to him—Rebecca.

Rain streamed over her head and off the ends of her hair. “To know you were willing to sacrifice everything you’d dreamed of rather than force me into something I wasn’t ready for is...”—she pressed her hand to her chest—“it takes my breath away,” she whispered. “You’re such a noble and selfless man and I’m deeply honored by your love.”

Shaken to his core, Adam cupped her wet face in his palms. “I’m sorry I pushed you. It’s just... I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. If you need more time, Rebecca, I’ll wait for you. Whatever you need, I’ll respect your wishes.”

"I don’t need time, Adam. I just had to know I wasn’t losing my mind. The only thing I need is you.”

They both moved into the kiss, falling to the wet ground as their longing and deep need for each other consumed them. Adam finally held the girl he’d been missing and the woman he’d fallen in love with.

Rebecca clung to the man she adored and the sweet boy she had recognized in his letters.

There in the sacred space beneath their willow they found each other again. Rain poured over them, washing away the pain they had carried for so long. The storm in their life was passing, and in its wake came sunshine. The broken limbs would heal and life would flourish again.

o0o

One week later, holding her father’s sturdy loving arm, Rebecca stood beside him on their porch where she and Adam had shared so many childhood secrets and spent years flirting and falling in love and dreaming of their future.

She didn’t remember it all, yet, and it no longer mattered.

Adam’s longtime friend, Leo, stood as his best man and in some unspoken way represented their past.

Rebecca’s maid of honor, Mary Crane, who had traveled to Fredonia with her family and Leo, stood beneath the oak tree with them awaiting a new, healthy Rebecca who was beginning to remember moments in her life—small nearly insignificant moments like sewing curtains or braiding her sisters’ hair to big events like receiving Star for her sixteenth birthday and dancing in Adam’s arms for the very first time.

“Are you ready, sprite?” her father asked, his eyes perhaps a bit misty and shining with love.

She was ready. “Yes, Daddy. I’ve been waiting a very long time for this day,” she said, not because she remembered waiting, but because she felt the years of longing. She knew the love she and Adam had shared and cherished for a decade. It filled her now and she embraced it with her whole being.

As her father walked her down the porch stairs and across the lawn to where Adam and the others waited, Rebecca glanced at her family and friends who were gathered together to witness and celebrate her day.

Dawson Crane stood at her grandmother’s side—in friendship? In love? Definitely in support and that’s all that mattered to Rebecca.

Her mother and siblings were beside them, smiles on their faces, love in their eyes. Rebecca’s heart surged with emotion. Oh, how she loved them with all the differences that made them each unique and the similarities that made them... family. Her family.

Her aunts and uncles and their children were spit shinned in their Sunday best. Close friends of the family, some Rebecca remembered meeting like Aunt Tansy, Leo’s mother who was beside herself to have her beloved Leo home again, and Aunt Aster who was married to Doc Milton, were there. A slew of other aunts and uncles were there with their children. Family friends, like Helen Fiske, whom Rebecca didn’t remember, but would happily reacquaint herself with after the ceremony, completed the gathering of over forty people.

Rebecca’s smile shone for every person there whose lives had touched hers in some way or another. She wrapped them in thoughts of love and gratitude and hoped she would someday remember how their lives intertwined. For now it was enough to know they were there because her parents and Adam loved them.

Adam...

Her heart and her eyes turned to the man waiting beneath the oak tree. To think that this tall, handsome man in his perfectly cut, three-piece black suit was waiting for her took her breath away. He’d waited for ten years. He’d educated himself and apprenticed and made himself into a wordly man capable of taking care of her. He’d done all of that for her. When she was lost in the darkness of her own mind he brought her back into the safe, comforting light of their love.

She knew this man—and she loved him.

With great joy she walked to him on her father’s arm.

o0o

Adam’s heart pounded as Pastor Ainsley asked, “Who gives this beautiful young lady to this special young man?”

Rebecca’s father said, “I do—and with great honor.” With Rebecca still on his strong arm, he turned to their guests. “I have never seen a man work so hard or give so much of himself in the name of love as this young man has done. In the ten years I’ve known Adam, he has taught me more about humility and honor—and love--than most folks learn in a lifetime. He believes he needs to live up to the Grayson name, but it is I who feels privileged to have him carry on the Grayson family name.” He turned to Adam, who stood in stunned surprise. “I haven’t been easy on you, Adam, and I’ve asked a lot, not because I doubted you but because I knew the caliber of your character and that you deserved to reach the goals you’d set for yourself. You’ve surpassed my expectations at every turn. I’m pleased and honored you chose my daughter as your lifelong companion, Adam, and I wish you both every happiness. I know you will love her and protect her and be a good father to your children. This day... this moment, I give my daughter into your safekeeping.” With those words, Radford lifted his daughter’s hand, once so tiny she could barely circle his finger with her own, and placed that precious hand in the palm of a man who would move a mountain for her.

It was time for him to let go.

And time for Adam and Rebecca to realize their dream.

In that moment Adam knew the journey had been worthwhile.

Time seemed to slow, as if this moment they had anticipated for ten long years was theirs and would be lived breath by breath.

Rebecca passed her bouquet—a small sprig of wildflowers tied to Princess Cecily’s mirror with a pink satin ribbon—to Mary. “This belongs to you and your family. Thank you for being my true friend.”

Mary’s mouth parted and her eyes welled up, but she managed a small nod and a wobbly smile.

When Rebecca turned back to Adam, her face shone with love and certainty. He could see in her eyes that she wanted this moment, this love, and their marriage as deeply as he did.

He slipped his hands around hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. Her eyes, dark as the earth beneath their feet, drank him in.

As Adam stood in the midst of family and friends with his beautiful bride, he realized he had reached manhood with the traits of a Grayson man. He loved his wife and family. He respected and helped his neighbors. He valued honor above all and would always live his life with integrity. Looking into Rebecca’s beautiful eyes, he knew there was nothing he wanted more than what was in front of him. He didn’t need the past because Rebecca was here, now, ready to become his wife.

Emotion tightened his throat, but his hands were steady and his heart beat solid and strong as he spoke his vows. “It’s taken us a long time to get here, Rebecca, but this is our moment,” he said, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. “I promise to always honor the spirit of the girl who loves skipping stones, climbing the rocky walls of the gorge, and driving our Sleigh of Hope each year as we help our neighbors. I promise to respect and cherish the woman who loves barn dances and fireworks and riding like the wind on her beautiful mare. All you are and all you’ll ever become is precious to me, Rebecca. I admire your passion for life, your tremendous courage, and the joyful spirit in which you greet each day. Wherever our journey takes us I will walk beside you solid and certain in my love for you. I pledge my heart to you and will love and protect you and our children all the days of my life.”

Tears brimmed Rebecca’s eyes and her hands trembled in his. “I know our path to marriage has been a winding road, Adam. But no matter what we find along the way I’ll always recognize the warmth of your spirit and the sense of homecoming I feel in your arms,” she said. “I’m deeply honored to be marrying a man who would sacrifice his life to save another.” She gave a small nod to indicate she knew the truth about Micah Crane’s rescue and why the Crane family was moved to give him such a precious heirloom. “I promise not to taunt you when I win at croquet and to let you occasionally beat me when we skip stones.” The laughter—hers and Adam’s and their guests—was laced with tears. When Rebecca got hold of her emotions and wiped her wet cheeks, she continued. “I want our love to soar like the seagulls at Crane Landing, to expand and fill our lives as the wind filled those beautiful sails when the schooners sailed out of the harbor. I will cross oceans and climb rickety lighthouse stairs with you, Adam, but we don’t have to because...”She swallowed and inhaled as if she needed to make way for the word “... because the only place I truly need to be is in your arms. So wherever our lives may lead us let our path be filled with joy and love and... and babies.”

Another wave of laughter and sniffling surrounded them.

As they gazed at each other with love-filled eyes, Pastor Ainsely pronounced them married and nodded for Adam to kiss his bride.

Finally, in a moment Adam had waited years to experience, he cupped Rebecca’s face in his palms and kissed his wife with tender adoration.

Rebecca’s eyes flooded but her smile shone light and love on all.

They exchanged hugs with Leo and Mary. Then together they turned to their family and guests as Mr. and Mrs. Adam Grayson.

As their guests surged forward with joyful hearts to hug and congratulate them, Rebecca stepped into her father’s waiting arms. He rocked her as if she were still his little girl. In some way she knew she would always be his little girl, and that knowledge warmed her heart.

Her proud, strong uncles hugged her to their hard chests where she felt the solid beat of their loving hearts as they wished her great happiness. They turned her loose with a kiss on her cheek, and then, one-by-one they gave her husband, Adam Dearborn Grayson, a hearty backslapping hug and a lot of good-natured ribbing that made his face and ears red. Laughing, Rebecca turned to their other guests and embraced Helen Fiske, the longtime friend she couldn’t remember but knew in her heart.

o0o

With his face burning from his uncles’ private heckling, Adam was still laughing when Boyd shoved a glass into his hand.

“I need another lemonade, young blood.”

“Oh, boy,” Kyle said, stepping back with his hands up as if to distance himself from a potential wrestling match. Radford and Adam’s father just laughed and shook their heads.

Adam simply tucked the glass between Boyd’s arm and ribs. “Sorry Uncle, you’ll need to get that lemonade yourself.”

Amidst their combined laughter, Boyd snatched the glass and hooked his arm around Adam’s shoulder. “Ata boy, Adam. I knew you’d pull through this!”

And so it went while Adam stood among the Grayson men, his uncles and father and business partners who had lifted him up into a world he had once only dreamed of.

His dad pulled him into a fierce hug that would have made a lesser man wince. “You’ve had a long, hard road, son, but by the look on your face I’d say the journey was worth the struggle.”

“It was, sir,” Adam said with a half-laugh. “But I would have been content with a much shorter and less eventful trek.”

His father nodded. “Yes, but you would be half the man you are now, Adam. It’s through our darkest times and most challenging struggles that our real character emerges. Count your blessings, son. Some men never get the opportunity to find out what they’re made of. Now you know.”

He did know—and he could easily face that man in the mirror.

“Thank you for holding me to a higher standard and helping me become a man worthy of Rebecca and the Grayson name,” Adam said, trying to find the words to express the depth of his love and appreciation for the great man who had made him his son. “To become even half the man you are is a probably impossible, but I’ll happily spend my life trying.”

Duke shook his head. “Adam, all I’ve given you is guidance. Becoming the man you are today was your own doing, and I couldn’t be more proud of you, son.”

Son. The meaning of that word still created a thrill in Adam’s chest. He was Duke Grayson’s son. “It would have been a lot harder to get here without your belief in me and those side-armed hugs you give that make me feel ten feet tall.”

Duke laughed. “You give me too much credit, Adam.” He clapped his hand on Adam’s shoulder. “I failed to protect you from my brothers’ bad influence,” he said, shooting a glance at Kyle and Radford who were in a fit of laughter over something Boyd was saying. “I’m beginning to see a marked resemblance between you and your uncles. Looking at you is like looking at one of them.”

Stunned and deeply honored by his father’s words, even in jest, left Adam speechless. To resemble any of the Grayson men was an achievement he’d only ever dreamed of. And yet in that moment, he knew he was his own man. He was Adam Dearborn Grayson, a blend of names and life experiences that had molded him into the man he was today. He was living up to the Grayson name and bringing pride to the Dearborn name. That knowledge settled in his gut like a truth he would protect with his life.

“Mind if I shake this young man’s hand?” Stephen Cuvier, the man who had sired Adam, asked.

Adam welcomed him with a warm hug.

“I’m filled with pride and happiness for you, Adam,” Cuvier said.

Adam had been thirteen years old the first time he met Stephen Cuvier, and though Adam considered Duke Grayson his real father, he deeply admired Cuvier. The man hadn’t known about his children until ten years ago. But once he’d learned the truth he’d spent every day of his life getting to know his children, Adam and Faith, and his grandchildren and extended Grayson family. He was a good man that Adam liked and admired.

“Thank you, sir.” Adam said, realizing in that moment that it was Stephen Cuvier who had planted the seed of Adam’s character. That man loved his children so much that he let Duke Grayson adopt his only son. Duke Grayson nourished that seed and helped Adam grow into a Grayson man.

As Adam stood between the men who had loved and raised him, he was honored to carry the traits of both men.

He hooked his arms around the mighty shoulders of his two fathers and said, “Thank you both for... everything.”

Faith cried as she watched them.

Adam took her in his arms, quietly thanking her again for finding the courage to lead them out of a life of pain. “You remind me of Princess Cecily,” he said.

Sniffing, she asked, “Who is that?”

“I’ll ask Elias Crane to share her story while we eat,” he said, reaching out to link hands with Rebecca. “Right now, I need to hold my beautiful bride and assure myself this is real.”

Rebecca smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “It’s real, my darling husband.”

He looked down into her radiant face and understood why he’d never wavered in his love for her. She was his stunning bride... his life-mate... his beautiful Rebecca—and he’d known it the minute he’d first laid eyes on her.

Chapter Thirty-one

Hours after they had spoken their vows and spent the evening in celebration with their friends and family, Adam and Rebecca went to their little house on Mill Street. They closed the door and stepped into each other’s arms. In the candlelit privacy of their new home, after years of waiting and sacrificing, Adam and Rebecca finally expressed the full breadth of their powerful love.

“My beautiful, precious wife,” Adam said, cupping Rebecca’s face between his palms. “We have finally crossed the threshold of our home as husband and wife. This is the beginning of our marriage journey and every memory we create will be ours together.”

“That’s right, Adam. And it will be an exciting journey filled with love.” Rebecca slipped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for holding onto me all these years. We have so much to look forward to and to experience together.”

He tightened his embrace. “Starting right here... right now...” he said, and lowered his mouth to hers, fusing their union with love and long-awaited passion.

With joyful hearts they explored the new facets of their love, and woke the next morning still wrapped in each other’s arms.

o0o

For a long, leisurely week they enjoyed their small home and their new marriage. Together they walked the creek and explored all their favorite places in Fredonia, some Rebecca could remember, many she could not, although she found great joy in rediscovering them with Adam. They talked and laughed and visited their family.

For Rebecca, the time was healing and joyful. At one of their many family gatherings, she spent time getting to know Adam’s outrageous aunts and her uncles’ lovely wives. Later, she partnered with her father for a croquet game that they played in the summer sunshine. Adam and his father were their opponents and gave them a tough challenge. While her mother, and Faith and Grandma Grayson looked on, other family members cheered and chose sides. Rebecca reveled in their play and joked with Adam and her parents. When she and her father finally won their match, he swept her into a hug and swung her in a circle. When he set her feet on the ground, Rebecca was laughing and excitement rushed through her. She gripped his hands and looked up into his handsome smiling face. “Daddy, I... I think I remember you teaching me to dance. I stood on your feet as a girl and you danced me around our parlor. Is this true? Am I remembering?”

His smile fled and his mouth fell open. Tears filled his eyes and he choked out her name as he hugged her to his chest. Seeing her strong father reduced to tears brought her own rushing forth, and she clung to him feeling as if she had embraced a redwood tree. Her strong, protective father would always shelter her. She felt love for him as great and towering as the lighthouse at Crane Landing.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the family, but they returned to their lawn games with joy and a new and deeper bond of love between them. Will, her eldest brother, began to joke with her as he’d apparently done before her accident, which pleased Rebecca and became a fun source of entertainment for the family. Her motherly instinct with her younger siblings felt natural and welcome and she coddled and played with them.

They shared family stories throughout the week that Rebecca listened to with avid interest. She recovered a few more memories, some that made her laugh and a couple that made her cry, but each one a gift she cherished. Although some memories were a bit muddled, and she still wasn’t sure the lady on the beach wasn’t a hallucination, she was hopeful that she would one day remember everything. Until then, she felt a deep sense of peace with whatever her future held.

In the late evenings she and Adam would return to their small home and cuddle together on the sofa. They talked about their future, and Rebecca asked about their past. They enjoyed each touch, each look, each minute of their present as if they might never get another.

Snuggled in Adam’s arms, Rebecca finally asked the question that had been on her mind for weeks. “Adam, what did you wish for that night at Crane Landing when we tossed our pebbles in the ocean?”

“That you were happy,” he said simply.

Her eyes welled with tears to think he’d cast such a loving wish when he could have asked for so much more. “I thought you might have wished for my memory to return,” she said, blinking to clear her eyes.

He shook his head. “I just wanted you to be happy, darling.” He stroked her face with his fingertips. “What did you wish for?”

“That someday you and I would have children together.”

His eyebrows lifted and then a slow smile tilted his mouth. “You never cease to surprise me. You’re like an ocean wave. I think I know how big and strong it is until the thing plows me over. You do that to me with your words and your wit and your remarkable skill at croquet and stone skipping.”

She laughed. “Does that make me undesirable?”

He pulled her into his warm, loving arms. “It makes you even more desirable, my love.”

Laughing, she caught his hand and led him out of the house and to their willow tree. They had survived ten years and great heartache to arrive at this moment in their lives. Rebecca was his ocean—and Adam was the wind that would carry them through their journey together.

Inside their private nest beneath the willow, Adam asked Rebecca if she’d made her decision.

Holding hands, she gazed into the handsome face of her lifelong friend, her lover, a man who would move a mountain for her, and she said, “If you don’t mind, I would like to spend our first year in Crane Landing.”

A delighted smile lifted Adam’s lips. “So would I, darling.”

So when the end of the week came, Adam and Rebecca—and Jojo and her new playmate Bella—returned to Crane Landing, to the pretty little house on the river where a Princess once lived.

Adam and Rebecca would spend their first year as newlyweds, walking the river and the shores along the southern coast of Maine, and their evenings on the back porch of their cottage, visiting with their friends, playing with the kittens, and nurturing their long awaited love. They would visit their family in Fredonia during the Christmas holiday and again in the spring. And when their year as newlyweds ended they would decide whether they would make a permanent home in Crane Landing or return to the beautiful little village of Fredonia where two young sweethearts first fell in love.

The End

Dear Reader,

I sincerely hope you loved Leave it for the Rain and consider it a 5-star keeper that brought you many enjoyable hours of reading. This is the sixth book in the Grayson Brothers series and if you haven’t read them all please consider selecting your next read from my booklist below.

For those of you who have laughed and cried alongside the Grayson brothers through the years, I now invite you to fall in love with the Crane family whose strong bonds and adventurous love stories begin in the 1700s and span to present day!

From the rugged coast of Maine during America's dramatic growth as a Nation to the Wild West of today, members of the Crane family are in pursuit of a hidden legend written about in the diary first brought to America by the beautiful Princess Cecily. Through every unforgettable journey, they pursue their passions, live life to its fullest, and fall in love along the way.

Please join me and my writing partner, national bestselling author Lindsay Randall Coleman (www.lindsayrandall.com), as we bring the Crane family to life in our two new series: Crane Landing (historical romance) and Texas Flyboys (contemporary western romance)!

For your convenience I am including a full listing of my books below, but you can also find them at http://WendyLindstrom.com.

Even with many layers of editing, mistakes can slip through. If you encounter typos or errors in this book, I’d be very grateful if you would send them to me at: http://www.wendylindstrom.com (use Contact link).

To receive notice when new books and other goodies are available sign up for New Book Alert!.

Learn more about Rescued by the Cowboy, the first book in our Texas Flyboy Series!

She hired him to save her sister—He rescued her instead

Learn more!

And watch for Captured by the Captain, a dazzling start to our historical Crane Landing series, coming soon! See the full book list below!

Books by Wendy Lindstrom

New York Times and USA Today bestselling GRAYSON BROTHERS series

Shades of Honor

The Longing

Lips That Touch Mine

Kissing in the Dark

Sleigh of Hope

The Grayson Brothers boxed set

Leave it for the Rain

Grayson Brothers Series Book One

SHADES OF HONOR

Prepare to fall in love with the Grayson Brothers in RITA award-winning Shades of Honor. Radford Grayson returns home and finds a once in a lifetime love... unexpected and forbidden. The one woman he can’t have is the only woman he wants.

Grayson Brothers Series Book Two

THE LONGING

A Romantic Times Top Pick romance! The last thing Kyle Grayson wants is a marriage of convenience, but one bad decision leads him straight to the alter with a strong-willed, beautiful schoolteacher. When she refuses to consummate their vows, he fans the flames of their fiery attraction, intending to show his reluctant bride every shade of their passion—and love.

Grayson Brothers Series Book Three

LIPS THAT TOUCH MINE

Enter the world of charming saloon owner, Boyd Grayson. While matching wits with the beautiful, aloof widow trying to shut down his saloon, Boyd uncovers her torturous secrets. He wants to free Claire from her self-imposed prison, but she guards her heart with a gun and memories she can’t forget. Boyd vows he will disarm Claire with his love and show her he is a man worthy of her trust... and her love.

Grayson Brothers Series Book Four

KISSING IN THE DARK

When Sheriff Duke Grayson, a man of fierce integrity, discovers his new wife lied about her identity, it rocks the foundation of their marriage. But when the dangerous man from Faith’s past finds her, Duke knows he must put everything on the line... his family, his badge, his heart to protect the woman he loves.

Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set

(Four full length books)

Four strong men – four stories of passion and once-in-a-lifetime love in this 280,000 word boxed set (includes first four novels of the Grayson Brothers series).

Grayson Brothers Series Book Five

SLEIGH OF HOPE

Join the Grayson family for Christmas in a touching story about hope, love, and the spirit of giving. This is the prequel to Adam and Rebecca’s adult love story LEAVE IT FOR THE RAIN.

Grayson Brothers Series Book Six

LEAVE IT FOR THE RAIN

A Love She Couldn’t Remember—A Woman He Couldn’t Forget.

The instant Adam Dearborn met Rebecca Grayson, he knew he would love her for all time. Now, after years away, Adam is finally home and ready to marry the woman he loves. But a tragic accident steals Rebecca’s memory on the eve of their wedding and leaves her broken. Suddenly, Adam is a stranger to her. Can they leave their pain to the rain and find their way back to each other’s hearts when the past seems lost forever?

Grayson Brothers Series Boxed Set

(Two full length books)

Sign up for Grayson brothers’ news at WendyLindstrom.com

~~~

* CONTEMPORARY WESTERN ROMANCE *

Four swoon-worthy cowboys to love!

TEXAS FLYBOYS series Book One

RESCUED BY THE COWBOY

Learn more!

TEXAS FLYBOYS series Book Two

SLOW DANCE WITH A COWBOY

Learn more!

TEXAS FLYBOYS series Book Three

NO TAMING THIS COWBOY

Learn more!

TEXAS FLYBOYS series Book Four

KISSED BY A COWBOY

Learn more!

CRANE LANDING series Book One

CAPTURED BY THE CAPTAIN

Learn more!

One last reminder to sign up for New Book Alert!—Stay informed about all my books and upcoming projects.

Thanks again for your time and interest in my books. I sincerely hope you’ll check out my new projects and also post a review for Leave it for the Rain to help other readers find and enjoy these books.

Peace and warmest wishes,

Wendy

About the Author

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Wendy Lindstrom is known for the riveting emotional power of her work. Romantic Times has dubbed her “one of romance’s finest writers,” and readers rave about her enthralling characters and “masterfully crafted” stories. She is the creator of the “original Grayson Brothers” series that begins with RITA award-winner Shades of Honor. This critically acclaimed series is available in ebook, paperback editions, and audiobooks. More information available at http://wendylindstrom.com.

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