Читать книгу A Time to Remember - Lois Richer - Страница 11

“Okay, all your test results are in and everything seems fine. But just because I release you, it doesn’t mean you’re one hundred percent yet.” Dr. Lucas Lawrence pretended to glare at Marissa. “I want you to take it easy, relax and enjoy being at home with Gray and Cody for a while. No lifting, no straining. No housework!”

She’d been here a week—long enough to heal most of her cuts and bruises. She was ready to leave the hospital with its bland food and weird hours. She was especially delighted by the thought that no one would wake her up to take a pill that put her to sleep.

But to go home? With two people she didn’t know?

Marissa gulped, pretended to smile, watching as the doctor moved toward the door.

“No housework. Wow. That sounds pretty good.”

“Consider it a reprieve. Knowing you and your penchant for organization, and remembering that Gray has been baching for almost six months, you should be grateful.” He waved as he went out the door. “See you in a few days, Marissa.”

A reprieve? More like throwing her to the wolves. The doubts multiplied a thousandfold. Marissa suddenly realized she had no idea what her home looked like, let alone how much cleaning it normally required.

And she had no wish to be there alone with Gray.

She knew no one would understand what she meant. They’d assume she was afraid of him. And she was. But it wasn’t the ordinary kind of fear. Not the kind she felt when she woke from those awful dreams about the river. This was a different kind of fear, as if she might say or do the wrong thing and hurt him, erase that silvery glow in his eyes. Something drew her to him. It was as if she must somehow protect him, but she didn’t understand that. Protect Gray from what, or whom—herself?

The past week had proven that the man who called himself her husband loved his son. The boy looked completely different. He had new clothes, for one thing. His hair had been cut, too. Not just hacked off, which was how it had looked the first time she’d seen him, but trimmed by an expert hand. But the most important thing was the way he giggled and laughed, ran and jumped, just like every other kid.

The only thing he didn’t do was speak.

He’d often hug Gray’s side, or lean his head against his leg when he was tired of waiting. Then his dad would scoop him up in his arms and the boy would snuggle down as if he belonged there.

Which he did.

It was Marissa who didn’t seem to belong.

Oh, it was easy enough to bond with Cody. The boy was adorable, and every time he brushed his chubby lips against her cheek, or hugged her, or snuggled beside her in the hospital bed, some inner spring wound a little tighter inside Marissa. She knew she was his mother, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’d do anything to keep him from danger.

But when the nightmares came and ripped her fantasy world to shreds, when she had to face the fact that she might never remember his first steps, his first words, the first time he fell asleep in her arms—at those times she desperately wanted Gray McGonigle to be there for her, wanted his big strong arms around her, wanted to hear him say everything would be all right, just as he did with Cody.

Yet she pushed him away.

She had to.

To allow him to believe she felt something for him was to court disaster. Something had happened before her accident. Marissa knew it. She’d asked him, but Gray wouldn’t tell her about that last day, wouldn’t say much more than that they’d been happy. He was hiding something from her, and she longed to know what it was. Maybe then she’d be able to explain her turbulent emotions whenever he was near.

The truth was, she didn’t know what she felt for Grayson McGonigle.

Gratitude? Indebtedness? Obligation? Curiosity?

All of the above.

His world must have been turned upside down when his family disappeared. But in the days since she’d awoken here, he hadn’t once complained about his twice-daily trips into town to visit her, nor about her memory’s lack of progress. He’d mentioned nothing about the extra help she understood he’d had to hire to help out with the chores while he took Cody to the city for tests. Even now, he didn’t miss a beat about Luc’s suggestion that they’d need home help because she was useless to him.

“I spoke to Miss Blessing about what Luc said. She knows a woman who moved back to town a while ago, after her daughter and grandson died. She has one other son, but he doesn’t live with her. Anyway, apparently this Mrs. Biddle used to work for my father a long time ago, so she’s used to the ranch, and she loves kids.” Gray turned toward Marissa. “Does she sound all right to you?” he asked politely.

That he’d even bothered to ask was a mark of his consideration.

“She sounds fine.” She edged toward the side of the bed, pushing back the pain that pinched her body. “Whatever you decide is fine.”

She could see he didn’t like her saying that. His eyes narrowed, his brows lowered. He looked frustrated.

“I’m sorry, Gray. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that you should decide these things. After all, they have the most effect on you.” She’d been trying to rectify whatever she’d said wrong, but was clearly only making matters worse. His jutting jaw was proof of that. She bit her lip, decided to stay silent.

“This affects you, too, Marissa. We can do whatever you want, but for now, I agree with Luc. You need rest and lots of it. A puff of air could whisk you away without even trying.”

“I’m fine.”

She glanced down, noticed his eyes staring at her knobby knees poking out from the hem of her hospital gown and readjusted the thin cotton robe.

“Why didn’t you put on your own robe and gown? I brought them days ago, but you still wear the hospital’s. Did I bring the wrong things?” Gray stared down at the threadbare gown as if he couldn’t understand her preference for such an ugly thing.

Well, why would he? He’d brought her an azure-blue velvet housecoat that begged to be worn, and a delicate white cotton nightie, with ribbon ties that matched the housecoat. They were beautiful and she’d have loved to snuggle into them. But they weren’t hers. At least, they didn’t feel like hers.

“I seem to have a lot of scrapes and cuts,” she improvised. “I didn’t want to stain anything, so I thought I’d save them until I was a bit more healed.” She glanced behind him. “Where’s Cody?”

“He’s at school. I thought it was time to get him used to the routine. I’ve been taking him for an hour every morning. Today he’s staying the full time.”

“Oh.” Which meant they’d be going to the ranch alone.

“You don’t think it was a good idea?” He fiddled with his hat. “Maybe it is too much at once, but the doctors thought we should get his life as normal as possible, and…”

Now she had him second-guessing himself, something she doubted he’d ever done. Till now. On an impulse, Marissa laid a hand on his arm.

“Please, whatever you’ve decided is fine. I know you only want what’s best for him.”

“And you.” He put his hand over hers where it rested against his muscled forearm. “I just want to make things better, Rissa. Inside, I know I can’t. I know nothing will be the same again, but I have to do something. Otherwise I’ll blow up.” His fingers tightened, the lines around his eyes deepened. “Every time I think of someone holding you against your will, of hitting you—”

She heard the torment in his voice, saw him strive for control. Then his arms were around her and he was holding her so tightly, she could barely breathe.

“Rissa, if you only knew how scared I’ve been.”

The words seemed dragged from him. It was the first time he’d really held her, though she’d expected it before now. There was no doubt in her mind that he cared about Cody but her, too? This much? Somehow that surprised her.

Something inside urged her to hold him, to brush that lock of recalcitrant hair off his forehead and kiss him there. But something else—some warning bell—reminded her that wanting to comfort him wouldn’t be what he wanted from her. He was her husband, he’d expect—no! She pulled away.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m all right. So is Cody. He’ll talk to us when he’s ready.” She leaned back, putting a bigger distance between them. “I guess I’d better get dressed.”

“I didn’t know you’d be released today. I didn’t bring you any clothes.” He frowned at her, trying, she knew, to understand what made her so apprehensive she couldn’t respond to him.

“I’ll wear what I arrived in.” She was pleased she’d thought of it so easily, until she saw him shake his head. “Why not?”

“The police have your things. Evidence. They’ve sent them away for analysis. Maybe they can find some clue about where you were held.” His gaze moved down her body, focused on her feet. “Seems funny you weren’t wearing shoes. Your feet weren’t cut or blistered, as they should have been if you were running barefoot.”

“Just another little mystery for you to unravel,” she joked, drawing her toes under the hem of her gown.

He was discomfited for a moment, then his gaze landed on the rejected housecoat. “I could go and buy something.”

“No, there’s no need.” She didn’t want to be indebted to him further. Neither did she want to put off going to the ranch. It terrified her, but she had to do it or explain why not. It was better to arrive in the daytime, and it was already after lunch. If they waited any longer, it would be time to pick up Cody, and when she finally arrived home, Marissa didn’t want the child watching her with those studious silver eyes that saw everything.

Home. How strange to think of it like that.

“I guess this is the only option, then.” He held out the housecoat and gown.

“I guess you’re right.” She clambered awkwardly off the bed, took the items from him and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He nodded, but that curious lambent glow was back.

It wasn’t the first time Marissa had been out of bed, nor the first time she’d seen a reflection of herself. But she still didn’t feel she knew the stranger who stared back at her, so she tried to avoid looking that way.

Earlier her bandages had been removed. The nurse had helped Marissa wash her hair and now it hung loose and fluffy around her shoulders. Her scalp was tender, so she’d left the golden strands free.

The nightie had a soft fuzzy feel on the inside. Some kind of cotton sateen, she decided, sliding her hand over her midriff. The housecoat felt every bit as wonderful as it looked. Out of the shabby hospital gear, sheathed in this elegant finery, Marissa felt pretty. Graceful. Like someone else. Had she worn these things before?

“Rissa?”

A soft knock on the door alerted her to her husband’s presence outside.

“Yes?” She froze, then told herself he had every right to walk inside if he wanted.

“Are you all right?”

She drew in a breath for courage, then pulled open the door.

“I’m fine. I was just trying to decide what to do about my feet.”

“Good thing I happened along, then.”

They both turned at the laughing voice. A man stood in the doorway. A tall man, sandy haired, with dancing brown eyes, looking for all the world as if he’d just stepped out of an ad for healthy outdoor living. He waited in the doorway, a gaily wrapped package in his hands. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt, but they were nothing like Gray’s. There was no sign he’d ever done a day’s work in either article. His snakeskin boots shone with a luster that proclaimed them new.

“Hi, sis.”

Sis? This was her brother? Marissa scrutinized each feature, but found nothing familiar. Gradually she became aware of the tension sizzling across the room between the men. She glanced at Gray for an explanation.

“Marissa, this is my brother. Adam.” The words were devoid of any emotion.

“Oh, come now, Grayson. Let’s tell all the truth, shall we?” The debonair smile turned on her full force. “Everyone thinks I’m his half brother. The ne’er-do-well son who got gypped out of the ranch my father built with his bare hands.” Malice glittered in Adam’s eyes.

“I didn’t gyp anyone.” Gray grated the words out in a way that told her they’d gone over the same argument a hundred times before. “Harris left me the ranch, true. But you were well provided for, Adam. You could have bought your own place. If you’d wanted to.” An implicit warning lay behind those quiet words.

“The point is, dear Marissa, that Grayson McGonigle, or whatever his real name is, shouldn’t have received any portion of my father’s inheritance because he is not my father’s son. He’s a liar and a cheat.”

His real name? Marissa winced at the pure hate that seemed to thread through the angry accusations. She saw Gray’s hands fist, saw his jaw clench and knew it was up to her to stop this from escalating, damaged memory notwithstanding.

“Look, I don’t pretend to understand what you’re talking about, Adam. I don’t understand anything about my life. My head hurts, my body is stiff and sore and I feel like I’m in the middle of a tug-of-war. So if you don’t mind, you two can carry on your feud, or whatever it is, later. Preferably when neither Cody nor I are present.”

“Aw, Marissa, I’m sorry.” Adam’s mobile face drooped with shame. “I truly didn’t mean to dredge that up again. I came to say I’m so sorry about the accident. How are you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she told him, praying she was telling the truth.

“I know that. You always had a knack for making things turn out good.” He walked over, leaned down and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “This is for you.”

She accepted the gift, surprised and pleased by his tender smile.

“Thank you, Adam. Though you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“By the look of those toes, I did,” he teased, peering down at her ankles and bare feet. “Wherever you’ve been, you managed to get a bit of sun. At least on your feet.”

In unison she and Gray stared at her feet. Compared to the rest of her fair skin, her ankles and feet were tanned a light golden brown. Why was that?

She felt Gray’s scrutiny. A wave of embarrassment washed over her at the intimate look. She busied herself opening the gift. A pair of slippers, fuzzy white ones with delicate little heels, lay against blue tissue paper.

She giggled at the silliness of them. Adam chuckled.

“I knew you’d like them.”

“Surely you didn’t find these in Blessing?” She laughed.

The silence unnerved her.

“What did I say?” she whispered. Both men stared at her with an intensity that made her fidget. “What’s wrong?”

“You know where you live?” Gray asked carefully. “You remember the town?”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Then how did you know that no place in town would carry these?”

Then she understood. Blessing. The town where they lived. She tried to figure out how she knew that, but nothing made sense.

“I don’t know where it came from,” she whispered, frustrated by the elusiveness of her mind. “It just came out.”

“It’s okay, honey.” Gray squeezed her shoulder. “It’s great, really. It means things are starting to come back. The doctors all said not to force it, so let’s not worry about that anymore. Why don’t you try these on?” He lifted a slipper from the box, carefully cradled her left foot and slipped the ridiculous footwear on it, then repeated the procedure with her other foot.

Marissa thrust out her legs and stared.

“I feel like Fifi La Ronge.”

“Who?” Adam and Gray stared at her.

Marissa blushed. “Never mind.” She stood and practiced walking. Then she glanced around the room. “Are we ready to go?”

Adam glanced at Gray. “Cody at school?”

“Yes.” Gray’s stormy eyes met his brother’s without flinching. “He’ll come home on the bus.”

“I could pick him up.”

“Don’t bother. A neighbor’s child will make sure he gets off at the right stop. I’ll be there waiting.”

Adam shrugged, but Marissa thought she saw a glimmer of hurt in his dark brown eyes.

“Suit yourself. I was just trying to help.”

“Really? You really want to help, Adam? Then why don’t you pitch in at the ranch? I could use a lot of help there. Especially now.” Gray’s steady gaze remained pinned on his brother.

Adam’s laugh held no amusement. Marissa saw his eyes harden, watched the snide tilt of his mouth transform her brother-in-law’s charming face into a mask of petulance.

“My own father didn’t think I had it in me to ranch, Gray. Why would you think any differently?”

“Maybe I see a side of you that Harris didn’t.” Gray glanced down at Marissa, but apparently decided to voice the rest of his opinion in spite of her presence.

“Harris loved you, Adam, and you know it. But he was afraid you’d gamble the ranch away just as you’ve done with the inheritance he left you.” His voice dropped to a tone of quiet steel. “Anytime you want to come on board, you just let me know. I’m not trying to steal anything from you, but neither am I prepared to let you blow our father’s lifework in some crap-shoot. And until you can prove your allegations about my ancestry, I suggest you keep them to yourself. Marissa doesn’t need the extra aggravation.”

He drew her forward, toward the door. Adam stood in their path, but he silently stepped aside as they approached. Marissa paused, looked into his eyes and wondered at the hurt she saw there. Her heart ached for these two brothers so at war with each other.

“Thank you for my slippers, Adam,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his arm. “I like them very much.”

He caught her hand, squeezed it. His eyes opened wide when her sleeve fell back and he caught sight of the fading marks. His gaze flew to meet Gray’s, asking a silent question.

“No, we don’t know who did it yet,” Gray murmured. He slipped an arm around Marissa’s waist. “At first I thought you might be to blame.”

Adam straightened, his anger visible, but Gray merely smiled that sad, painful twist of lips that mocked Adam’s indignation.

“Don’t worry. I soon realized that my own brother couldn’t possibly want to hurt a woman who never did him any harm. Besides, Cody loves you, Adam. That’s good enough for me.”

Marissa wanted to say something, anything to ease the anguish on the other man’s face, but she couldn’t think of a word. After several tense moments Gray heaved a sigh and solved the problem for her.

“Go ahead and pick up Cody, Adam. Only make sure you come straight home. Whoever did this is still at large. We’ll see you there.” Then Gray whisked her out of the room and down the hall before she could respond.

“What’s the rush?” she puffed, surprised at how quickly she became winded.

“No rush. Sorry.” He adjusted his pace. “They said they wanted to take you out in a wheelchair, but I’d like to avoid that, if we can. I’ve taken care of the paperwork.” He helped her through a side door. Just beyond the curb sat a shiny black truck. “Just in case someone is watching you, I’m not prepared to give them another opportunity to hone their abduction skills.”

He half lifted her inside, tucked her robe in around her and fastened her seat belt, then climbed into his own seat.

“Okay?” he asked, his hand on the ignition.

“I guess.”

Truthfully, Marissa didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay in this strange new world. But it wouldn’t help to keep complaining about things. Somehow God would make sense out of the distortions in her world. She didn’t know exactly how she knew that, but the solid comfort of the thought nestled down inside her heart and warmed her like a close friend. For the first time since she’d discovered her name, Marissa didn’t feel alone. God was there. Watching. He would help her.

She sat back, prepared to take in every sight and sound that might give a clue about her home.

“Home” took shape as a white rambling rancher-style house with a veranda just made to sit on and sip lemonade. It wrapped around the house as far as she could see, offering a fantastic view in every direction. The foothills had begun their autumnal color change, vibrant oranges and reds glowing in the late afternoon sun.

Marissa could only gaze in rapt admiration at the horses grazing in the pasture, at the herds of cattle dotting the golden hills and wonder at the beauty and serenity of this place that had been her home.

Why had she been afraid to come here? It was gorgeous. Yet even as she thought it, her eyes picked out a densely forested area far beyond the white fences. Prickles of fear made her skin crawl as she stared into the emerald-green of a coniferous forest. There were no bright tinges of red to lighten the ominous darkness, no yellow or orange streaks to break the shadowed duskiness she knew lay beyond that boundary.

“Marissa? Are you all right?” Gray stood beside her opened door, one hand upraised as if to touch her face. “I thought you’d gone into a trance. What’s wrong?” He turned, surveyed the landscape, tried to find what held her attention.

“What’s over there?” she asked, pointing.

He tilted his head back, peering across the land.

“Pastures. Grazing land. Hills. The creek. Why?”

“Does anyone ever go there?” she whispered. Her skin crawled with some nameless fear she couldn’t quite repress.

“Sometimes I ride in to get a stray. It’s pretty dense back there and very easy to get lost, but I leave it untouched because Harris, my father, wanted one piece of his property to remain wild. So did Dani’s dad, on the ranch next door.” He frowned at her. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know.” She shivered.

“Come on, it’s cold out here. I should have brought your coat.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the yard and up the stairs.

The door opened before he arrived. A tiny woman stood in the doorway, her silver hair wound into a complicated twist on top of her head.

“Come in, come in. It’s getting cooler every day. I suspect winter will come early this year.” She waited until Gray had set Marissa down, then held out one soft white hand. “I’m Evelyn Biddle. Your husband and I talked earlier this morning. He said you’d want to interview me.”

“Interview?” She looked to Gray for help. He didn’t get a chance to respond.

“As housekeeper, dearie. Now come along, you just sit down in this big old chair in front of the fire. I saw the dust from the truck and knew you’d be along soon, so I made some tea. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” Almost before she could blink, Marissa found herself tucked into the chair, an afghan covering her knees and a cup of sweetly scented tea in her hand.

“There we are. Now you just relax a bit. Winifred told me some of your story. It’s a terrible thing. Just terrible.”

“Thank you.” Winifred, that would be Winifred Blessing. If the kindly baker lady had sent this woman, Marissa was certain Mrs. Biddle would make a perfect housekeeper. There was something about Miss Blessing that inspired confidence no matter how long you’d known her.

“Whoever would do such a thing should be horse-whipped.”

“Um—”

Probably sensing her discomfort in talking about the past, Gray launched into a series of questions, which the older woman answered quite ably. Marissa sat and let them talk, content to listen.

“You must feel free to invite your own family to visit, Mrs. Biddle. Or take some time off. We can’t keep you isolated out here all the time.”

The parchment skin drooped, the blue eyes faded, glossed over with tears.

“I don’t have any family around here, dearie. My daughter was a widow. Army wife, you know. I was living with her and my grandson until they both died. Now I’m at a loose end. I have a son, but he won’t be visiting me, I’m afraid. In fact, I don’t see him often. He gets too upset. He’s in a home now.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I’d be glad to stay as long as you need my help. The fact is, you’d be doing me a favor. I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

And she was probably short of money, if she’d been living with her daughter.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Biddle. I didn’t know about your loss.” Marissa was ashamed of herself. She’d been whining about her terrible life, which included a darling son and a husband who clearly cared for her. It was a life that would soon be filled with so many things. This poor woman had lost everything most dear to her.

“Don’t you fret about it, honey. How could you know?” Mrs. Biddle shrugged. “A few months ago, after I’d spent a long time recovering from hip surgery, God seemed to tell me to come back to Blessing. I still have my little house, you see, even if it is rented. And at least one friend, Winifred Blessing. She suggested I stay with her, just until I got back on my feet. That didn’t take long. I’m perfectly well now.”

“I’m glad,” Marissa said, and meant it.

“Winifred won’t hear of me leaving. Says she likes the company. But when they found you, well, she was certain I could help. In a way, arriving out here today was a little like coming home.”