by Karen Kirst
They filed out into the yard. Four wagons had been readied, the beds lined with hay squares for seating. The kids bounced up and down. Nicole cradled her sleeping daughter to her chest. She leaned close to Jessica. “I wonder what this is about.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“Quinn knows something. I’m sure of it.” Her violet eyes snapped. “But no amount of pestering would budge him. I didn’t glean even a bit of information.”
The baby in her arms squirmed. Cooing softly, Jessica rocked Joy until she settled.
“You’re a natural with her,” Nicole said with a smile. “Any chance your marshal will trade in the badge for mountain living?”
“You’re the first to mention him to me.”
“No use avoiding the obvious. You’re miserable without him.”
“Why would he want this when he can reside in a bustling city, hobnob with government elite and get paid to live out adventures?”
“What if that no longer appeals to him? What if he’s miserable without you, too?”
If Jessica allowed herself to hope for such a thing, she’d live with constant disappointment. No. Better to focus on getting through each day the best she could.
Ahead of them, Nathan assisted a heavily pregnant Sophie into the wagon bed. Because of her petite frame, her belly looked large and uncomfortable. Surely the twins would be born soon. With her situated, he turned and helped Nicole and then Jessica. The wagons finally started off down the lane. Instead of heading toward town, their procession turned toward Jessica and Alice’s. They passed their property and, about a mile down the lane, parked alongside a newly cleared field.
Evan led the way into the middle of the field, leading Juliana by the hand. Alice held Sammy, and young James huddled close to her side.
When everyone had gathered around, Evan took his wife’s other hand so that they were facing each other. “My darling Juliana, for years it’s been your dream to return to your home. I know how much you’ve missed your family. The land you’re standing on is ours. If you agree, we’ll start work on our new home right away. We can be moved in by Christmas.”
There were gasps and clapping. Tears streamed down Juliana’s cheeks. “This is what you’ve been planning? Truly?” she exclaimed, glancing about her at the fields, the trees and the mountains in the distance.
“Are you happy?”
For an answer, she squealed and threw her arms around his neck. Evan’s smile bore testament to his relief, as well as his adoration for his wife. Jessica found herself blinking away tears. She could hardly fathom that her entire family would be together again.
As everyone gathered around the couple, she hung back, apart from the celebration. While she was thrilled for Juliana, sadness permeated her soul. All around her, her sisters and cousins stood with their spouses. Some, like Megan and Lucian, had large families. Others, like Nathan and Sophie, Jane and Tom, were just starting theirs.
In that moment, she experienced Grant’s absence, his permanent absence, as if a part of her heart had been ripped from her chest. Solitude was a bitter friend. Jessica ached to see his lopsided smile. His bright eyes full of mirth. To hear him humming along to a tune he was playing on his guitar.
She longed to have him beside her, a ring on his hand proclaiming to the world that he belonged with her.
It was nothing but a pointless, silly dream. He was in Virginia now. And he wasn’t coming back.
*
Grant answered the succinct rap on his door. His brother waited on the stoop. Behind him, single riders, conveyances and pedestrians traversed the busy thoroughfare. After the peacefulness of the mountains, the constant activity was jarring.
“Taylor said you were looking for me.” His cheeks were chapped from the blistering wind.
“Come in.”
Grant moved to admit him into his quarters, a spacious but utilitarian room in the marshals’ barracks, located in the heart of Arlington. It was large enough to hold a bed, wardrobe, desk and chair. He’d had a clapboard house once upon a time, he’d been told. One he’d sold shortly after Susannah’s death.
Aaron eyed the open trunks and the wardrobe’s doors thrown wide. Before he could comment, Grant said, “I’ve remembered something.”
“Seriously? When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
Striding to the bed, he rifled through a box of their grandparents’ things, mementos Aaron had given him, and lifted out a necklace with a heart-shaped locket.
“I was looking through this box late last night when I came upon this.” He closed his fingers around the locket, the thrill of the memory still fresh. “I saw her, Aaron. I remembered Grandmother.”
His brother’s elation was plain. “What did you remember, exactly?”
“She and I were sitting at her kitchen table. The tablecloth was made of lace. And faded. She wore her silver hair in a bun.” Closing his eyes, he recalled the details, warmth infusing him as if he were back there in that kitchen with her, the smell of cinnamon cookies in the air. “Her apron was pink and white and frilly.”
“That was her favorite apron,” he said. “Did you remember Grandfather? Or anyone else? Pa?”
“No. Just her. She gave me this locket and explained that it had belonged to our mother. Grandmother was a sweet lady, wasn’t she?”
“She was the best.” He clapped him on the back. “This is just the start, Garrett. Before long, you’ll get all your memories back. Life can finally return to how it used to be…you and me, making the world a safer place.”
Grant carefully returned the necklace and turned to face his brother. This was the hard part. “I’m leaving, Aaron. Memories or no, I can’t resume my former life as if nothing happened. I can’t pretend I haven’t changed.” As he watched Aaron struggle to accept his decision, he added, “This wasn’t a decision I made lightly.”
In the six weeks he’d been here, he’d struggled to readjust to his former life. He’d done everything he could think of to jog his memory. He’d visited his grandparents’ old homesite. Taken flowers to their graves and his father’s. He’d stood on a busy street and stared at the home he and Susannah had briefly inhabited. Taylor had gifted him with a new silver star and, while he’d felt proud to wear it, he didn’t deserve it. Without his memory, he didn’t have the knowledge or skills to step into his former role. And deep down inside, he didn’t want to.
His colleagues had been patient with him. They’d plied him with story after story about how he’d tracked down notorious outlaws, protected federal judges and witnesses, arranged for court proceedings. Just that morning, when he’d handed in his letter of resignation, Taylor had advised him to give it more time.
He didn’t need more time. What he needed was to see Jessica again. Thoughts of her crowded his mind at all hours of the day. Sleep didn’t bring relief. He worried that she was sad. He worried that she wasn’t, that she’d completely put him out of her mind, that she didn’t ache for him as he did for her.
“I had a feeling this was coming. I kept thinking that regaining your memory would solve everything.” Aaron spun the desk chair around and straddled it, his bulky wool coat bunching at the sleeves. “It wouldn’t, though, would it? You’d still choose to leave.”
Grant folded another shirt and placed it in the trunk. Then he came and sat on the corner of the bed. “This isn’t the life I want anymore.”
“Words I never thought I’d hear you say.” Unhappiness wreathing his features, Aaron waved a hand to encompass the room. “Being a marshal was your lifelong dream.”
“Dreams change. God allowed this to happen to me for a reason. Has it been easy? Of course not. I’d give anything to be able to remember working alongside you. As much as it would hurt, I want to remember what happened with Susannah. But if I hadn’t been ambushed, I never would’ve met Jessica…” He trailed off as fierce emotion gripped him. Fisting his hands, he stared at the swept floor, willing himself to regain control.
He lifted his head, grateful for Aaron’s effort to understand. He cleared his throat. “Not yet. Thought I’d practice my speech on the way. Maybe I should purchase a ring first.”
“I didn’t get a chance to really speak to her, but from what I saw, she’d accept you with or without a ring.”
He didn’t share his confidence. “I shouldn’t have left her.”
Not once had she ever said she loved him. There were no guarantees, no way to know if she desired a future with him.
“But then you would’ve always wondered if you’d made the right choice. You gave this life a try. Discovered it’s not for you.” Aaron chuckled softly. “If our father knew you’d given up the marshal’s life for that of a farmer…”
“He wouldn’t understand.”
“Not at all.” Pushing to his feet, he shoved the chair beneath the desk. “Plan on frequent visits from me, big brother.”
Grant stood as well and pulled him in for a hug. “Whether I wind up a happily married man or a miserable hermit, you’ll always be welcome.”
“Trust me. She’ll say yes.”
Clapping him on the back, Aaron broke the embrace and walked over to the wardrobe. “Let’s get you packed.”
Grant joined him, praying with everything in him that Aaron was right.
*
With only twelve days until Christmas, it was far too cold to be outside on the porch. Jessica sat bundled into a layer of quilts. Her cheeks and nose tingled and the tips of her ears burned. Everything else was relatively warm. The creak of the rocker was the only sound in the tranquil December night. If she stopped the motion and strained her ears, she could just make out the patter of snowflakes landing on the brittle earth.
She would’ve been toasty inside by the fire but hadn’t been able to resist observing their first snowfall of the winter. And this spot, more than any other, held special memories of Grant.
Closing her eyes, she relived their many conversations on this porch. The music they’d made together. Even after all this time, she could clearly picture his teasing smile, the way his eyes danced with mischief. Countless times she’d been tempted to pick up pen and paper and write to him. Countless times she’d discarded the idea.
Why prolong her agony?
The air was heavy with the scent of pine, reminding her of those fleeting moments she’d spent in his arms. Feeling the rush of sorrow stemming from broken dreams, she reluctantly squirmed to standing. Stringing popcorn for the tree they’d cut that day would divert her thoughts. She just had to be quiet and not disturb her mother.
Jessica had her hand on the door latch when the indistinct tinkling of bells reached her.
Treading to the top step, she held on to the railing and waited as the musical sounds drew closer. Was this a late-night visit from one of her sisters? They’d all done their very best to cheer her. Not that their efforts had paid off, at least not for any length of time. But she appreciated what they were trying to do. It proved how much they loved her.
Lanterns swinging from a conveyance scattered shards of light onto the lane. Snowflakes whirled and dipped as a pair of horses clopped through the wet accumulation, their breaths creating white clouds of steam.
Jessica considered going for the gun inside her room. She didn’t recognize the team or the lone figure leading them. Something held her there, something about the way his Stetson was pulled low on his head and the set of his shoulders.
Hope exploded deep inside, and her knees threatened to buckle.
The team jerked to a stop near the barn. After setting the brake, the man leaped to the ground and strode across the yard, his attention on the layer of snow beneath his boots. Her grip tightened on the rail.
“Grant?”
He stopped short, startled, his head snapping up. His gloved hands fisted and opened, then fisted again. The glow behind her living room windows was enough to illuminate his beloved features. She’d recognize that mouth anywhere. The stubble along his jaw. And his eyes. They burned into her like twin blue flames.
“Is it really you?” The words tripping from her mouth were a few seconds behind her thoughts. “I thought it was but couldn’t be sure. Until now. What are you doing here? It’s almost Christmas. Aren’t you spending the holidays in Arlington with your brother?”
Grant ascended the steps one at a time, his gaze never leaving hers. He stopped once they were on eye level.
One trembling hand gingerly cupped her cheek. The leather glove was soft and warm. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured. “Far more than I remembered.”
Jessica didn’t register the blankets slipping to the planks at her feet. She didn’t register the cold. Inside, joy heated the blood fizzing through her veins. Anticipation chased the chill from her skin.
“Did you come back just to tell me that?” she whispered, her heart beating a drum tattoo against her rib cage.
One side of his mouth curved. “Not just that, no.”
Quickly divesting his hands of his gloves, he let them drop to the step and reclaimed her face. She shivered at how amazing his skin felt against hers. Needing to reassure herself this wasn’t a dream, she curved her fingers about his wrists. The fine hairs tickled her skin. He was real. He was here.
“What else did you come to tell me?”
“I’m sorry I left without telling you how I felt. I can’t pinpoint exactly when I fell in love with you. All I know is that I do love you, and I’m desperate to know if you love me, too.”
Happiness filled her until she thought she might burst. “I’ve missed you so much I could hardly function.” With her fingertips, she traced the outline of his jaw. “Nothing cheered me.” Removing his hat, she tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed. She smoothed the lines creasing his forehead. “I lost count how many cakes I had to scrap because I forgot to put in an egg or substituted salt for sugar.”
“Jessica.” His voice was a mix between a plea and a growl.
Smiling, she dipped into his hair, sighing at the soft strands threading through her fingers. He curved his arms about her and, pulling her against him, nuzzled the corner of her mouth.
“Keep talking,” he softly ordered.
“I thought my chance at happiness was gone forever. I thought I’d live the rest of my life alone.” Looking deep into his eyes, she stroked his cheek. “I shouldn’t have let you leave without telling you how I felt.”
“And how, exactly, do you feel?” His fingers flexed on her waist. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I love you, Grant Parker. I have for a long time.”
His eyes blazed. He lowered his head and kissed her with such tenderness it brought tears to her eyes. Easing away, he gathered the forgotten blankets and patted the top step.
“Sit with me.”
When they were sitting side by side, he tucked the blankets around them, forming a cocoon of sorts. His arm was around her shoulders, mooring her to him. She snuggled into his chest.
“If I never moved from this spot, I’d be happy.”
“Me, too.” He kissed the top of her head. “I doubt the horses would be, though.”
“Tell me about your home. Did being there spark any memories?”
She reveled in his closeness, the rumbling of his voice in his chest as he described the city, the quarters where he lived, the offices where he worked.
“Just before I left, I remembered being with my grandmother. And during the trip here, I was drifting off to sleep one night when I was hit with an image of my father. He was in his office. Aaron and I had gone to see him after school.”
“Oh, Grant, that’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I’m so happy for you.”
“I can’t describe how it feels to finally be getting pieces of my past back. It’s like I’m discovering more of my old self.”
“I pray you’ll discover it all.”
He rubbed her shoulder, his expression peaceful.
“Arlington sounds like an exciting place.”
“I suppose.”
Her fingers fisted in his coat lapel. “Grant, when are you going back?”
He stilled. “I’m not.” Shifting, he gazed down at her. “I thought you understood. Jessica, I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. I thought that’s what you wanted, too.”
“I do.” Her brows pulled together even as his words thrilled her. “But what about your career? Aaron and Taylor? Your friends? I’m willing to move to Virginia. I don’t know the first thing about being a marshal’s wife—”
“Hold on. You’d uproot your life, leave your family, your business, for me?”
“I love you. I want to be where you are, whether that’s in Arlington, some remote outpost or a deserted island.”
“What about in Gatlinburg? Would you be content as a farmer’s wife?”
“Building a life with you here would be a dream come true.” Slipping her hand beneath his coat, she splayed her fingers over his heart. The steady beat was comforting. “But is that what you truly want?”
A thin layer of snow covered the steps, the flakes hitting their boots melting quickly away. The horses stamped and snorted. He’d have to leave her in a few minutes to care for them.
“Aaron and I spent a lot of time together these past weeks. He told me that I’d wanted to be a marshal ever since I was a kid. I was good at my job. I loved it. Couldn’t imagine doing anything else until I got married. Apparently I couldn’t reconcile the lifestyle with being a devoted husband and father. That’s why I determined to remain single after her death. I knew I couldn’t be successful at both.” He stroked her arm, a lazy smile brightening his features. “Then I got ambushed in these mountains, and a beautiful, feisty redhead rescued me. She made me see how meaningful and satisfying family life can be when you’re with the right person.”
“What if your memory returns completely and you have a change of heart? I wouldn’t want to be the reason for your regret.”
“I will never regret being with you. We can’t know what the future holds. Whatever happens, we’ll work through it together, all right?”