“When I saw you at the door, I thought sure you’d come after me.”
With eyes narrowed in disbelief, he smiled. “Is that what you wanted?”
I shrugged. “Just expected it.”
He bowed his head and traced a heart in the sand. “You ever feel like... like you’re standing on a cliff and...” A pause. “And God’s asking you to fall off it and into His arms?”
The depth of his question shocked me, preventing me from coming up with an answer. I couldn’t look at him without fluttering my eyelids.
“Ever since you woke up with amnesia, that’s how it’s been for me.” He stared at his feet. “I couldn’t do it, though, not until today on the porch.”
A salty breeze whispered across my skin, making a rash of goosebumps appear. His faith... How had I never noticed it before? “You fell into God’s arms?”
“I let go.” He gazed out at the ocean. “I saw you in the car ready to pull out of the drive, out of my life, and my only thought was tearing off after you.” He flashed a smile. “Not sure how I was gonna stop you. Get in front of the car? Jump on it? Give chase? But before I took off, I felt God nudge me, so I—I gave it all to Him instead. Whatever happened, I was gonna trust Him.” A crooked grin crept onto his face. “Then—miracle—you let me come with you.”
With a sigh, his look turned sulky and his eyes shifted toward the ocean. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing curly locks from his forehead.
“Wish I could’ve trusted sooner, trusted God, trusted you. Instead of trying to control everything. Guess I still struggle with that.”
He bowed his head, then lifted it and faced me, intense remorse coloring his features. “Caitlyn, can you…forgive me? I hate the way I’ve been acting lately. But, damn, girl...” A hard glance. “I don’t wanna lose you.”
His look, his words, and my heart... all three convicted me. I hadn’t been fair to him either. While I believed any person, no matter how sinful, could change, I hadn’t extended the possibility to him.
“If I had driven off, what would you have done?”
A flirtatious look danced across his face, melting into a sad one. “Bawl my eyes out, I guess. Then I’d find you. Find some way to make you fall in love with me again. Which, given your present memories, wouldn’t be easy.”
I smiled, his honesty and humor putting me at ease. I was ready to ask, ready to hear his answers. “So tell me, Jarret, tell me how we fell in love.”
Solemn and thoughtful, he stood and brushed the sand off his jeans. Then he strolled to the wet sand where the waves had washed it smooth. He picked up something and stared at it as he came back, the wind playing with his hair and his half-buttoned shirt. Sitting beside me, he handed me a shell.
Our fingers touched, momentarily distracting me. Then I studied the shell, turning it over in my hand. Small, white, and decorated with thin ribs, it seemed insignificant compared to other shells along the shore. Did it mean something to him or to me? “What kind of shell is it?”
“It’s a fallen angel wing.”
“Fallen?”
“They’re like angel wings but not as detailed, and they’re smaller.” He gave the hint of a smile but it faded like the ebbing of the waves. “They’re not perfect.”
I held the imperfect shell to my chest, treasuring it more now that I knew, but also wondering why. Roland had told me that I needed someone who needed me. A perfect man wouldn’t need me. Could that have been why Roland and I drifted apart? He didn’t really need me, but Jarret...
We both gazed at the ocean, time stretching out peacefully until he broke the silence. “Hey, uh...” Head bowed, he stared at the heart he’d traced in the sand between us. “...about your question. I don’t know how you fell in love... with me. When you get your memory back, maybe you’ll tell me.”
“Roland said it happened the summer after my first year at college. He said I was living at your house, helping Nanny.”
“Yeah, that’s right, and I wasn’t supposed to be there. I was supposed to be on a field study.” He gave the crooked grin that I used to assume reflected some twisted thought but that I now found attractive. “I’m glad I didn’t go.”
“Roland showed me the emails I wrote to him that summer.”
Jarret gave me a quick, worried look. “What’d you tell him?”
“Well, I guess I thought you were annoying. At first.”
Amusement came to his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you did. I was bossy and rude.”
Maybe it should’ve surprised me to hear him recognize his faults, but over these past few days—I allowed myself to admit it—I’d come to realize that he had changed. Still, I found myself pinning him with a glare and saying, “And you drank.”
His hands flew up in protest. “Not really. I swear.” He shoved a hand through his hair and his tone softened. “I don’t know what you found in the emails, but... some of it might need explaining.”
I watched as a seagull landed on the wet shore near us and poked at the sand. “So, when did you fall in love with me?” I felt as though I shouldn’t have asked, as if it were none of my business, as if it were somebody else’s life and not mine, so I watched the seagull rather than him. But I felt his gaze.
“We talked a lot, you and me. Every day. The more we talked, the deeper I fell. You’re not like other girls.”
I glanced to see the look in his eyes. Sincerity, vulnerability. Even with the breeze, my face warmed.
“You see the good in things, in people. You made me feel like I was good, worth your attention. Then I found out what you did for me that night I came home staggering drunk.” He raised his hands again. “...which was not my fault.”
Glad he’d brought it up, I proceeded with caution. “Do you mean how I helped you get your car?”
“Uh, no.” He narrowed one eye, looking hesitant to disclose more. “That was nice, but no, that’s not what I mean.”
“What did I do for you?” A lock of hair blew into my face and I left it there, wishing I hadn’t asked. I couldn’t help thinking I’d compromised my virtue somewhere along the way. How else would I have ended up married to a guy like— my conscience struck me. I needed to stop thinking of him with preconceived notions and see him as the man he’d become.
“I don’t know where to start. You took care of me, but I didn’t remember any of it in the morning. I knew something happened, but I had to pry it out of you. And I really wanted to know ’cuz, uh, I found your flowered hair barrette and I couldn’t imagine how it ended up... in my bed.”
My eyes popped and my heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“I showed it to you the next day and asked you to guess where I found it, but you wouldn’t. When I told you it was in my bed, you acted like it was no big deal. I hounded you for an explanation, but you wouldn’t talk. Then Papa came around, so I took off. Me and him weren’t getting along.”
I remembered that from the emails.
“So, I’d wait until you were alone, working in the kitchen or cleaning a room, and I’d try talking to you. It became an obsession. I had to know.” He glanced again. “You remember that you and I never liked each other.”
I nodded. I’d had my reasons: he was mean to Roland, mean to my friends, and then the thing with Zoë.
“I couldn’t understand how Caitlyn Summer would step foot in my bedroom, much less climb into my bed, and not be angry at me the next day.” The look in his eyes intensified as if he were about to communicate something I ought to understand. “But you weren’t angry. Not at all. And you always talked with me, just not about that. Then I got hooked on seeing you every day. I tried getting you to go places or take a walk, but you wouldn’t.” He smiled to himself, his eyes holding a faraway look. “Except one day, I was out riding my horse and I found you on the trail.” He stopped talking.
“Then what?”
“I was riding alone, trying to quit thinking about you, trying to convince myself that there could never be anything between
us. I’d made too many mistakes. You were pure. You deserved someone equally pure, like Roland.” He glanced, looking sulky again. “But there you were on the path and I couldn’t resist asking. I told you to get on the horse—”
“You told me?” I pretended to be offended, but I’d give him the benefit of the doubt.
He shrugged, giving a guilty grin. “Sort of. I didn’t know how to ask, so I slid back in the saddle and offered my hand. You looked at my hand for two whole seconds, saying nothing, making me feel stupid. So I said, ‘Get on the horse.’ And you did.”
I laughed. “I made you feel stupid, huh?”
“Anyway, we rode for a while, not talking at all. Then I took you back to the house. Maybe you liked me then, I don’t know, but it cemented my feelings for you.”
“So, at the Thai restaurant, is that when I told you what happened that night?
“Do you... remember?” Hope colored his expression.
I hated to let him down. “No, I read about it in one of the emails.”
“To Roland? You told Roland?” His brows twitched and forehead wrinkled.
I bit my lip, trying not show amusement. “No, I told Roland about the Thai restaurant, how I had fun, how I liked talking with you.” His worried expression faded as I continued. “I told him that we finally talked about ‘that night,’ but that he’d have to ask you if he wanted details. I guess you blushed when I told you about it, huh?” I wished I could remember.
His mouth opened then he smiled and glanced away. “I dunno.”
Pushing my foot deeper in the sand, I gave him a flirtatious smile. “I guess you’d better tell me about it. I think I ought to know.”
He sat with his knees up and pushed his feet into the sand the way I had done. Then he rested his arms on his knees and watched the ocean for a moment before answering. “Well, Papa was harassing me about getting a job, so I finally did. And I used that as an excuse to ask you out, to celebrate.” He gave me a sly grin. “I had to beg, but eventually you agreed to it. I’m glad you had fun. I wish you remembered it.”
“Tell me the secret,” I whispered, leaning into his space, giving him a playful nudge with my elbow.
He nudged back, shoulder to shoulder, leaning into me for a long second. “Okay. Here’s what you told me: the night I was drunk, you heard my friend drop me off and saw me lying on the ground outside, wailing about my Chrysler. Your room was off the front of the house.”
“In the email I told Roland I helped you get your car. What happened after?” I wanted him to get to the point before he changed his mind about telling me. Did he still find it embarrassing?
“Okaaay.” He dragged the word out, seeming reluctant to share more. “We got back with my car and I couldn’t walk straight, so you helped me upstairs and waited in the hall while I used the bathroom. But I never came out, so you came in and scraped me off the floor, took me to my room.” Reluctance gone, he stared into my eyes as he spoke. “You took off my shoes and belt, turned down my bed, and got my PJs out of the dresser. I showed my appreciation by dragging you into my bed.”
I gasped and looked away. “Oh!”
“I know and I’m sorry. You told me you tried to get away, but I pinned you down. Sorry.”
My face burned. I found myself glaring sideways, not wanting to hear the rest.
He bumped my shoulder again, as if sensing my thoughts. “Relax. I didn’t try anything bad. Apparently, uh, well, you told me I wanted you to, uh...” He cleared his throat. “I wanted you to sing to me.”
“What? Sing?” I snapped my gaze to his.
He rolled his eyes. Was he blushing? “Yeah. This is where it gets embarrassing and the reason you wouldn’t tell me sooner. You didn’t want to humiliate me, but I had to know.” He ran his fingers through his hair, facing away from me.
I crawled to his other side to make eye contact and sat beside him. “Go on.”
He huffed and smiled at the same time. “You sure you didn’t tell Roland?”
I shrugged. “Not in the emails. I told him it was private to you.”
“Good. So, I was trying to come up with a song my mother sang to me that you might know. I sang a few lines of this one and that.” He paused, giving me a cautious look. “I was young when she died, you know.”
“I know.” My heart went out to him. He’d had to grow up without his mother.
“Well, after a few tries, we came up with one you knew: Sing of Mary.”
“I love that song.”
“So did my mother, and she used to pet my hair when she sang to me.” His gaze slid to me, a sly grin on his face. “You did that, sang to me and petted my hair.”
Totally entranced by his retelling, I could picture the whole thing and my heart delighted in every detail.
“A minute later, I guess I was out, and you got out of my bed. But you didn’t leave. You stripped my shirt off.” He rubbed his chest, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“I did not.” I kicked sand at his leg. “You’re making that up.”
“You believe the rest of it? I’m not lying. I had crap on my shirt. Maybe I puked on myself. You could’ve left me like that, but you didn’t. You put a clean t-shirt on me. Then you left.”
I giggled, my heart melting at how sweet the secret was. He wanted me to sing to him.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” Not wanting to laugh, I covered my mouth.
“All right. That was a long time ago.” He kicked sand at my leg.
I kicked back, laughing. “I know. I’m sorry.” We exchanged sand for a few more seconds then settled down. “So, you learned what I did for you and that’s why you fell in love with me?”
He nodded. “Partly. I’d been nothin’ but a jerk toward you, never treated you or your friends nice in high school, but you showed mercy and took care of me. Has anyone ever shown you mercy? It made me see you differently. You weren’t one of Roland’s annoying friends. You were a girl unlike any girl I’d ever met. Who would do that for somebody like me, after all the mistakes I’ve made?” He paused, his gaze flitting as if he were searching his memory. “You’re like Roland in that way.”
He had a compliment for Roland? Which reminded me... “You’re kind of mean to him. You know he’s only here to help.”
“I know. And I was mean growing up but I’ve changed.” He gazed into my eyes. “Really, I have. I know you can’t see it when he’s around, because I’ve reverted to my old ways with him. I guess it’s my fear of losing you. And I’m trying to deal with that. But he was there at the lowest point of my life.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “And I’ll never forget that. I met Jesus through Roland’s forgiveness, through his mercy.”
I wanted to know more, but it seemed too personal for the moment. “Maybe you’ll share that with me sometime.”
“I already have.” He smirked. “You’ll have to get your memory back if you want to know about it.”
“What if I don’t? Will you tell me again?”
He shrugged. “Someday.”
Seagulls cried in the distance. I tried to break from his gaze, but the depth of his emotion held me. I was like the seashell he’d handed me. And his love, like an ocean wave, washed over me.
A salty breeze rippling through his shirt, Jarret lowered his gaze and inched toward me.
The same breeze tickling my face and playing with my hair, I closed my eyes and held my breath. My lips burned, expectant.
“Wanna take a walk?”
My eyes popped open.
He stood over me, reaching a hand down.
Looking up at him, my mouth fell open with my disbelief. I thought sure he was about to... to kiss me. And I was about to let him. I took his hand and we strolled barefooted along the shore.
CHAPTER 32
I SAT ON the edge of the bed, listening to the shower blast and smiling like mad. Everything felt different today. Jarret trusted that I would not run off while he showered. Or maybe…based on what he’d confessed t
o me on the beach, he trusted God, come what may. I never imagined this day would come. Maybe he would go to work and leave me home alone. Mike said I ought to talk him into it.
I reached for my bathrobe and got up to make breakfast. As I passed through the living room, I glanced at the bookshelf. My gaze lingered on the shells we’d collected from the beach. They looked nice sitting by the rocks, other shells, and pictures. Who were the girls in the pictures? It seemed strange that we had so many young friends with newborns.
We’d reached a new level in our relationship. I should ask him directly. And while I was at it, I would ask if he knew about Sean’s kiss. A wife shouldn’t keep secrets from her husband. So if he didn’t know, he would find out today. My stomach clenched at the thought, but if I intended to do my part to make our marriage work, I would need to begin with trust and honesty.
With a sigh, I went to the kitchen to forage for food. We’d eaten all the bacon, and I didn’t feel like sausage, but I remembered seeing a block of cheddar cheese in a refrigerator drawer. I could make cheesy scrambled eggs and toast.
After pouring the egg mixture into a hot skillet, I stuffed slices of bread into the toaster. As I pushed the toast down, the bedroom door opened.
Jarret strutted toward me dressed in white tennis shoes, gunmetal chino pants, and a short-sleeved white shirt that accentuated his chest and shoulder muscles.
Heart pitter-pattering, I lifted my gaze to his face. How had I ever not found him attractive? “You look nice. And you shaved.”
“Yeah.” He rested an arm on the island counter and rubbed his whisper-thin goatee. “Thought I’d clean up a little.”
“So, you’re going to work today?”
He opened his mouth to answer when the phone rang. We both looked at it, then at each other. “I’ll get it. It’s probably work,” he said, walking around the counter.
A stab of disappointment made me sigh as he strolled into the living room with the phone. I was closer. When would he let me answer it?
Resting a hand on his hip, Jarret faced the front window. “I told you I wasn’t comin’ in... Well, I didn’t think about it... No, I’m not. I scheduled this a long time ago... Can’t... I don’t care. Do what you have to do. I’m doing what I have to do... I’ll come in this afternoon...” He glanced at his watch. “All right. I’ll swing by and straighten that out, but I’m not staying.” He strutted back to the kitchen, the phone swinging at his side.
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