Читать книгу Rocky Mountain Memories - Lois Richer - Страница 15

Spurning an offer of coffee, Gemma elected to stretch her legs while Jake returned his calls. Tactfully, he deferred the concerns of each person, assuring them he’d handle their needs when he returned. By the time Gemma reappeared at the car, he’d come up with solutions to each problem presented. The outreaches he did were mostly busy work for his brain, but they helped suppress the barely buried memories of his past. That was exactly why he’d taken on the role of community problem-solver.

“Everything okay?” Gemma asked as she fastened her seat belt.

“Yep. Next stop, The Haven.”

While he drove, Gemma slept. Every so often she would call out or startle and waken herself. Then her long, lush lashes would droop, and she’d doze again.

Jake had a thousand questions. Had she been happy with Kurt? Had marriage lived up to her expectations? Did she regret not having a big, fancy wedding? In the past she’d have told him all of that without his asking. He yearned to rebuild the old camaraderie they’d shared.

He was thinking about her too much. He needed to adjust his thoughts.

In six years of living at The Haven, this was one of a handful of times that Jake had left the place. Was that why he felt so antsy? At The Haven he could bury himself in other people’s issues because there was little about the place to remind him of Lily or of the reason for her death. The folks at The Haven and in Chokecherry Hollow had become a bandage over the pain of his loss.

As Gemma now was?

I promise, Lily. I will never love another as I did you. I will never risk another woman’s life through my selfishness. Never again. I promise.

He was Gemma’s friend and he’d do whatever he could for her, but friendship was all they could ever share.

Jake switched on the radio for distraction, glad when he turned off the highway that Gemma would arrive home in daylight. It wasn’t the Andes in autumn, but springtime in the Canadian Rockies was pretty spectacular.

“Time to wake up,” he said when there were only a few minutes left in their trip. “You need to see this, Gem.”

“I haven’t done a thing and yet all I do is sleep.” She sat up and rubbed her eyes, wincing when her fingers brushed the injury on her forehead. She yawned and stretched her neck, twisting and turning to get a good look at her surroundings. “Spectacular,” she breathed.

“It is,” Jake said with smug satisfaction, as if the land was his own. “We’ll soon be home. Then you can climb into bed and really rest, if you want.”

He wanted to ease her transition, but how could you help someone who couldn’t remember anything about their past? Maybe he should have let her sleep.

“I’ve always loved the snowcaps on these mountains.” She paused. “I mean, I think I have.”

“You don’t have to monitor every word. Just take it as it comes, Gem. And I know exactly how you feel.” The serenity of the vast forest surrounding The Haven filled Jake’s soul. He loved it here. This was his haven and he never wanted to leave, though technically it wasn’t his home. He’d lost that the day—

Jake shoved away the guilt and drove uphill toward the big stone house where the aunts lived.

“Jake?” Gemma’s voice came soft, breathless.

“Yeah.” He glanced at her. Worried by her pallor, he pulled to the side of the road. “Feel sick?”

“Yes. What if I don’t ever remember them?” She grabbed his arm and clung to it. “What if this never feels like home? I’m so scared.”

“Don’t be.” He wrapped her icy fingers in his and held on to them, trying to ease her discomfort the way a movie hero would simply because Gemma—the old Gemma—had always admired white-knight heroes. “Everything is going to be fine. There’s no rush about remembering. You’ll do it when you’re ready. No one will pressure you. Everyone will understand. All they care about is that you’re home and unhurt—well, mostly unhurt,” he corrected with a smile, wishing she’d lose that terrified expression.

“But—but—”

“Gem.” He gave in to his longing to comfort her and slid his palm against her cheek for just a second. “You used to have a special verse you’d recite whenever you needed to encourage yourself. Do you remember it? It starts, ‘God is our refuge and our strength.’” He removed his hand and waited for her to finish it.

‘“A tested help in times of trouble.’” Eyes wide, she nodded. “I do remember that.”

“Now think about the words,” he suggested while his brain called him a hypocrite. God hasn’t been your refuge or strength, Jake. Not for years.

She remained silent for a few moments before huffing a sigh.

“Okay. Guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Atta girl.” He shifted into gear. “The Haven’s gorgeous, isn’t it? All that stonework with those towers and—” One glance at Gem’s face and Jake cut off his commentary, sensing that she needed silence to gather her pluck for the reunion ahead.

He sent up a prayer for her, for strength and a calm spirit, and then wondered at himself. He didn’t talk to God anymore. Hadn’t since... Anyway, Gemma Andrews wasn’t his responsibility.

Yet from the first day he’d arrived at The Haven, Jake had felt protective of her, as if he had to be there in case she needed him.

“There are so many of them!” Gemma gasped, drawing his attention to the house and the folks assembled on the driveway.

“Those aren’t all your relatives,” he sputtered, amused by her shocked expression. “I’m guessing your family arranged for whatever kids’ group is visiting The Haven to form a welcoming committee. Relax,” he chided as her fingers tightened around her seat belt. He parked, turned off the car and waited a moment before asking, “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she whispered. She lifted her hand to open her door, pausing when Jake shook his head.

“Wait.” He climbed out, strode to her side and offered a hand to help her exit the car. Her hair had loosened from the topknot she’d tied it in earlier and now tumbled past her waist. Her face was strained and the jeans she wore had seen better days.

But Jake thought she had never looked lovelier.

“Welcome home, Gemma,” he said softly, and then he drew her forward to meet her family.

* * *

Gemma licked her lips as she mentally reminded herself, They’re my family. My family.

She didn’t feel like she belonged with them.

“Our dear, dear girl.” One of the elderly women, an auntie perhaps, wrapped her in a gentle, fragrant embrace. She brushed a kiss against Gemma’s brow before holding her back to examine her. “We are so thankful you’re home, dear.”

“I—er, I’m glad to be here,” she whispered. It wasn’t home—not yet—but how could a mere hug feel so wonderful? She glanced from one lady to the other. “You’re twins!” Her face burned at the peals of laughter around her.

“Guess I forgot to tell you that, Gem. This is your Aunt Tillie,” Jake explained.

“Hello. Jake said you were ill.” As Gemma squeezed her hand she noticed the woman’s red nose. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

“A simple case of the summer sniffles. Some people worry too much,” Tillie said with a glare at her doppelganger.

“You are Aunt Margaret. It’s very nice to—” Gemma had been going to say meet you. But that was hardly appropriate. “To be here,” she finished.

“My dear, you should be resting in bed.” Margaret wrapped tender arms around her in a second hug. “You’ve had a dreadful ordeal.”

“I’m fine.” Gemma had never felt more on show.

“Margaret tends to fuss,” Tillie murmured.

“It’s nice to be fussed over, but I’m truly all right.” She wanted to get this over with. “Thank you for the welcome,” she said, scanning the assembled group. One glance at Jake and he immediately understood. He nodded at someone and after the group of children had sung a welcome song they hurried away, apparently to other activities.

“These are your sisters, Gemma.” He introduced each woman, her husband and her children.

Her foster sisters at least resembled the descriptions he’d given her during their long ride here. Their children’s names would require memorizing.

“I should have brought gifts,” Gemma whispered to Jake when the silence stretched too long.

“No, you shouldn’t have, Gem,” Victoria said. “All we care about—all we’ve been praying for—is that you’d come home safely.”

“I care about presents, Auntie Vic!” A little girl glared at her aunt until her mother—Adele?—hushed her. “Well, I like ’em,” she muttered defiantly.

Gemma grinned at her. “I like presents, too,” she said.

“We’re so sad about Kurt, Gemmie.” Olivia, a tiny baby snugged against her chest in some type of sack, embraced her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

“Thank you.” Go through? Oh, she means losing my husband. But I can’t even remember what Kurt looked like, just as I can’t remember any of you. “Jake said your baby is brand-new,” she murmured, staring at the delicate face and wondering if she’d ever wanted to be a mother. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks. This is your niece, Mirella. She’s pleased to meet you.”

“Me, too, Mirella.” Gemma stirred at the touch on her shoulder. Jake. Her protector. When he smiled, her tension eased.

Thank You, God, for Jake. Funny how natural it seemed to pray. Was she very religious? How could she not know something like that?

As if sensing her confusion, Jake asked, “How about some lemonade on the deck, Gem?”

“Great idea! What’s wrong with us, keeping our girl standing here?” Tillie smiled at Gemma before turning to Margaret. “Come, sister. Let’s savor this blessing of having our four girls home once more. It’s been forever, or so it seems.”

“Thank you all for your warm welcome,” Gemma repeated politely.

Her family—how strange that word felt—sat around her on a huge deck overlooking a picturesque valley. Everyone chattered at once. It should have sounded like bedlam, and yet to Gemma, the loving, teasing voices and laughing children who played boisterously nearby were a balm to her jumbled mind. With the warm sun on her face and several delicious cookies in her stomach, her eyelids soon drooped.

“Gem?” Tension underlaid Jake’s husky drawl.

“Yes?” She blinked before forcing herself to sit up straight. “Did I fall asleep again? I’m so sorry,” she apologized to the group who now stared at her with sympathy. “Is my hair a mess?” When she lifted her hand to smooth the strands she noticed an older man in a three-piece suit standing at the edge of the patio. “I’m sorry if I should know you,” she began to apologize. She stopped when Jake’s fingers squeezed her shoulder.

“Gemma, this is Wilber Hornby. He’s a local lawyer.” There was a graveness to Jake’s tone that she didn’t like. “He’s here about Kurt.”

“Now?” She frowned. “But I only just got here—”

“I’m very sorry,” Mr. Hornby said in precise diction. “But Kurt was most insistent that if anything happened to him, I was to speak to you immediately. I promised I would do so, therefore I have come.”

Only then did Gemma notice that, one by one, her family had silently left. Only her aunts, Jake and the lawyer remained with her. This must be serious. Funeral plans?

“O-okay.” As she drained her glass of lemonade, she realized that Jake was about to depart, too. “Please stay?” she begged. “Please?”

Jake glanced at the aunts. They nodded. He appeared to consider something but finally shrugged and sat down. Gemma mouthed thanks before turning to face the sober-faced lawyer.

“What is this about?” she asked.

“It’s about a girl,” Mr. Hornby said. “Your husband’s four-year-old stepdaughter. Her name is Alexa.”

Gemma had steeled herself to hear something important, perhaps something about Kurt’s final wishes or... Wait a minute.

“My husband was married before me?” She turned questioningly toward Jake and was astonished by his outraged glared at the lawyer.

“Kurt Andrews never had eyes for anyone but Gemma for as long as I knew him.” Jake glowered at the lawyer. “He was always crazy in love with her. What are you saying?”

The way Jake said the words, fiercely, with his blue eyes glittering, jaw clenched and his back ramrod straight—it was as if this man was indignant on her behalf, Gemma thought wonderingly. That made her feel special, valued, precious.

“I have a letter from Mr. Andrews to his wife that will explain,” Mr. Hornby began, drawing an envelope from his briefcase.

He held it out, but Gemma couldn’t take it. She wasn’t sure exactly why, only that she didn’t want to have to deal with anything more right now, especially not a letter from a husband she couldn’t remember.

“Can’t it wait?” she begged, sending Jake a pleading look.

“Kurt’s direction to me was to proceed as quickly as I could.” The lawyer’s set face told Gemma he would do his duty no matter what.

“Perhaps in this instance, Wilber,” Aunt Tillie said softly, placing her hand on his arm, “we might dispense with her reading the letter right now. Couldn’t you just tell Gemma the gist of it?” She glanced at her sister for support. “After all...”

The two women shared a look that told Gemma they knew, or at least guessed what was in that envelope.

“Those are not the terms—”

“I know, Wilber. And you’ve been most circumspect in coming here as soon as our dear girl arrived home,” Margaret soothed. “But Gemma isn’t herself. She’s been through an earthquake and she has amnesia. The doctor’s orders are for her to minimize stress.”

Even Gemma could see the lawyer weakening under the genteel ladies’ soft words and beseeching expressions. She had a hunch that there weren’t many people who could deny these aunties whatever they asked for. They were characters. It would be fun to get to know them.

“If you could just explain to Gemma what you need from her, sir,” Jake added quietly. “Once she knows whatever it is, she can think about it and come back to you if she needs clarification.”

She threw him a grateful look. He was such a sweet man to always keep smoothing the way for her.

Always? Jake had smoothed her way before?

“Is that your wish, Mrs. Andrews?”

Gemma glanced around, wondering whom he was addressing and found everyone staring at her. Oh. Mrs. Andrews. That was her name. How strange.

“Gemma?” Mr. Hornby pressed.

“Yes, please. Just tell me the basics,” she said, nodding.

“Very well, though it’s rather difficult...” Mr. Hornby paused, gathered his thoughts and then began speaking. “Your husband—you remember he went to college after finishing high school?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember anything,” Gemma told him. “Just pretend we never met before and tell me what you think I need to know about, um, Kurt.”

“All right.” Hornby cleared his throat. “He told me he was uncertain about his next step and went to college to try to figure things out. While he was there he met a woman, Anna, a law student in her final year, who became a good friend. Kurt learned she was pregnant and desperate to finish school. She felt she had no way to raise a child and adoption was out because she couldn’t pay for a delay in her education. She intended to have an abortion.”

“I see.” So the stepchild must be the Alexa he’s talking about. But why would my husband...?

“Kurt was totally against abortion. He said he tried desperately to talk Anna out of it, but she would not be swayed. She saw no other option.” Hornby paused for breath, then continued. “To be brief, Kurt persuaded her to marry him, insisting he’d support her until the child was born and continue to work to ensure the child was cared for while Anna finished her schooling. Nothing romantic about it, Kurt said. His whole concern was for the child. Anna finally agreed to marry him on condition he told no one about their arrangement.”

“Where was I during all this?” Gemma asked, struggling to absorb the information.

“Overseas, at language school,” Jake said immediately. His face reddened at the surprised looks from the aunts. “I remember that’s where you went after high school.”

“You are correct, Jake. Gemma spent time mastering languages in Europe,” Margaret agreed somberly.

Mr. Hornby cleared his throat.

“Please go on.” A sudden chill made Gemma shiver. Now what?

“When the child, Alexa, was born, Kurt took care of her. He loved her, but he hated the secrecy of not being able to share her with his family. So after Anna graduated, Kurt came home one weekend to tell his parents the truth. When he returned, Anna and her child were gone.” Mr. Hornby took off his glasses and polished them on his handkerchief.

“Gone where?” Gemma realized she was perched on the edge of her lawn chair. “And how do I fit in?”

“Anna later called Kurt to explain that she’d arranged for them to divorce. She had a new job and wanted a fresh start for herself and Alexa, and for Kurt. Anna was adamant that Kurt belonged with you. She’d always known he loved you.” Mr. Hornby managed a smile.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, a little embarrassed. It didn’t seem like the lawyer was talking about anyone she knew.

“Mrs. Andrews, Kurt told me he loved you dearly and that there’d only ever been friendship between him and Anna.” The lawyer’s hard face softened. “But little Alexa had stolen a piece of his heart. Kurt had no legal or biological claim to her, of course. Still, he felt that if ever she needed him, as his mother had needed him, there should be funds available for her. That’s why he set up her trust fund. His request was that if he was not able, you should manage the fund for Alexa. Kurt had great faith in your ability to protect her.” He held up the letter. “This is his explanation to you about the matter.”

“But why didn’t he just tell me himself? Why did he keep it a secret?” Gemma’s head ached as the knowledge whirled round and round inside it. The letter in her hand felt heavy, full of problems, and she already had too many of those. “What am I supposed to do with this fund? Make sure it’s invested properly—something like that?” She glanced at Jake for help, but he appeared as puzzled as she felt. “I don’t know anything about investing or trust funds.”

Something clicked in her brain, like her words weren’t quite true. But she didn’t understand how that could be. And suddenly this world of everything unknown felt like it was closing in on her.

“May I say something, dear?” Tillie’s soft voice broke through Gemma’s confusion. “Margaret and I knew about Alexa. Kurt’s parents confided in us.”

“That was one of the reasons for the disagreement,” Margaret chimed in.

“What disagreement?” Gemma read disapproval on the ladies’ faces.

“My dear, you came home to announce your elopement and we were very happy for both of you.” Margaret’s smile eased some of the tension gripping Gemma.

“But when we asked your husband privately if he’d told you about Alexa, he insisted that he wanted you to meet the child first so you could bond, but Anna and Alexa were away that weekend.” Sadness edged Tillie’s words. “We disagreed with Kurt’s decision. We felt he should have explained about the child before you agreed to marry him. I’m afraid it caused a bit of a rift between us and him.”

“He certainly should have told me the truth before we got married,” Gemma said, feeling indignant for Kurt’s wife. Wait, that was her! “But since he didn’t, it’s a moot point.”

Everyone was watching her, including Jake. She shifted uncomfortably, waiting for someone to speak. When they didn’t, she blurted out her thoughts.

“So what now? Am I supposed to do something about Alexa? Is she okay? And what in the world could I do anyway? I haven’t even got a job.” Worried and muddled, Gemma fumed. “I can’t help myself, let alone a child.”

“May I suggest something, Gem?” Jake’s smile somehow calmed her. “Maybe you could find out about Alexa, make sure she and her mom are all right. At least then you’d have peace of mind.”

“I guess I could do that,” she agreed, then frowned. “What do I do after that?”

“If Alexa doesn’t need Kurt’s money, you could ensure it’s wisely invested and then leave it to grow until she does need it,” he said with a shrug.

“That sounds advisable,” the lawyer agreed.

“Yes,” Tillie said, though she was frowning. She looked at her sister.

“It does sound good. Only, Alexa and her mom aren’t all right,” Margaret blurted.

“How do you know that?” Jake studied the sisters with narrowed eyes.

“We’ve kept tabs on them. Kurt and Gemma were away so much, you see.” Margaret cleared her throat. “We felt it our duty to watch over the child.”

“And so?” Gemma replied automatically. She felt so confused and muddled and her headache was back.

“I’m sorry to tell you that Anna was accidentally killed three days ago in a drive-by shooting.” Tillie’s sad voice was hushed.

“The day of the earthquake,” Gemma whispered, aghast.

“Yes.” Margaret sighed. “Apparently Anna had a will that named Kurt as Alexa’s guardian in the event of her own death. Because there are no other relatives and Kurt was unreachable, Anna’s daughter, Alexa, was placed in foster care. We’ve been praying and praying for a way to help the child.”

“Yes,” Margaret exclaimed. “And now you’re home, Gemma. A true answer to prayer.”

“Me?” Gemma blinked. She glanced sideways at Jake and found no help in his shrug. So she studied her aunts. “I’m an answer to prayer? What am I supposed to do?”

“We have no idea, dear,” Tillie said, her smile sweet.

“Not yet. But we’ll think of something,” Margaret said confidently. “We always do.” She rose. “Or you will. Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m so sorry, Gemmie, but Tillie and I must leave. We have an appointment in Chokecherry Hollow that we simply cannot cancel, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“My dear girl,” Tillie said, rising and moving close to pat her shoulder. “You’re safe now. Jake will show you around The Haven and your room is waiting for you. As always.”

Gemma sat stunned as the ladies kissed her cheek and told her again how glad they were to have her home. Then they bustled away. The lawyer rose, too.

“I must also depart. As Kurt’s executor, I’m happy to answer any questions you may have, Mrs. Andrews—Gemma. Call on me anytime.” He, too, left.

Gemma felt like Dorothy in Oz, right after the tornado had touched down. Wait, how did she remember that?

“Well, I guess I’d better get started answering those calls—” Jake started to say.

“No you don’t!” He was her lifeline and she wasn’t about to let go of him in this sea of confusion. “You brought me here, Jake. You got me into this. Now help me figure it out.”

He opened his mouth to protest, studied her for a moment and then poured himself another glass of lemonade. He sat down, huffed out a huge sigh and swallowed half of the pale yellow liquid.

“I’m only The Haven’s handyman, Gem,” he said weakly.

“You’re the fixer, that’s why all those people called you,” she said, struggling to make sense of everything she’d learned. “Now help me figure out how to fix things for this child that my husband loved so dearly, when I can’t even remember my own name. Wait a minute. That picture.” She blinked, remembering the photo of the smiling child.

“Gem, are you okay? You look...weird.”

“The picture that was in my wallet. That must be Alexa. Maybe Kurt did tell me about her and I just forgot. Along with everything else.” Suddenly the sun felt too hot, the problems too large, the decisions too overwhelming. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain she thought she could hear a man’s voice calling, Take care of her. Take care of Alexa.

The world wobbled. Had she really heard that or was she dreaming? She felt so strange.

“Jake?” she whispered.

“Yes, Gem?” His voice came from a long way away.

“Have I ever fainted before?” Gemma didn’t hear his reply as she slid off her chair and onto the patio.