My Forever Love

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “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?

  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 t
he 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.