My Forever Love

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “Where would one even begin with all of this?” Rebecca asked, surrounded by an overwhelming inventory of items.

  “In that office,” Adam said, pointing to a thick oak door. “Our master shipwright, Ezra Crane, designs our vessels. Dawson used to do that job before he found out how much fun it is to work out here with the full crew.”

  Rebecca expected Dawson to laugh, but the man seemed uncomfortable with the comment. “I need to deliver this pitch,” he said. With a nod, he expressed his pleasure at meeting them and wished them a good day before he strode away with his cart in tow.

  Adam paused for a moment, an expression of regret on his face as he watched Dawson walk away. It seemed as if he wanted to call the man back, but he didn’t.

  “Something amiss?” their grandmother asked.

  “No,” he said, and directed their attention back to the paper he was holding. “We take the shipwright’s design that’s on a blueprint such as this one,” he said, showing them a scroll-like paper with so many lines and angles on it that it made Rebecca’s head ache, “and we carry it out to the floor for lofting—that means we do a life-sized drawing of the vessel on the floor. When we finish with the drawing process we know the exact shape and size of every piece of the vessel.”

  Gazing at the skeletal beast taking up most of the building floor, Rebecca shook her head in utter amazement. How men could take a mess of lines and angles and create something so intricately designed on such a vast scale was beyond her understanding.

  “Once we finish the lofting process we make the keel, which is the backbone of the vessel,” he said, gesturing toward the schooner. “It’s that long, square beam that runs from bow to stern. The hull of the vessel is built around the keel. We attach a square frame and plumb level to the waterline, along with several other steps, before we attach the ribs.”

  “They look like ribs,” Rebecca said, amazed. “How do you bend the wood like that?”

  “We steam them to shape.”

  “There are so many of them.”

  He nodded. “One rib every two feet. It’s a slow process, like framing the hull and attaching the bulkhead, but it’s important that every piece fits nice and tight. Then we use planers and augers to shape every plank that covers the hull outside and in. Once they are secured in place, we use a cotton and oakum mixture to caulk between every plank.”

  “My word... that’s an unimaginable amount of work,” their grandmother said. She seemed tiny and insignificant standing beside the bones of the schooner, but in that moment Rebecca realized that the woman was becoming as important to her as the wind was to the great sails that powered the schooner. Grandma Grayson had commanded Rebecca to get out of bed and find a way to enjoy the rest of her life. Rebecca silently promised that she would give it her best effort.

  “Don’t allow me to be boorish,” Adam said to Rebecca. “I’m leaving out a good deal, but if this is more than you ladies wish to know we can move along.”

  Rebecca glanced at her grandmother who seemed as intrigued as she was. “I’m enthralled,” she said. The look in Adam’s eyes said he, too, was enthralled—with her. As their eyes locked, she floundered in his gaze, feeling as churned up as the water tumbling along the Crane River behind the pretty little house that he had found for her. Did he choose that location because it was so romantic?

  A loud bang from across the way snapped his attention back to the task at hand. “Where were we?” he asked. “Oh, yes, the shear plank, that’s the top plank, is installed and the deck is built on that ledge. It’s quite complicated and scientific to distribute the load evenly, but take my word that it’s far more information than you ladies would enjoy hearing about.”

  He was so serious it made Rebecca smile. “You are supposed to be enjoying this, too, Adam.”

  He made a face. “I enjoy it too much. It takes upwards of a year to build a vessel and I could talk that long about the process.”

  She laughed and hooked her arm around her grandmother’s elbow. “We would like to enjoy a few days in our cozy house on the river, so perhaps we can finish our tour in time for us to move our bags and have supper in our new home?”

  A smile tilted his mouth as if he enjoyed her teasing. “Of course, and I should like very much to sup with you ladies one evening before we return to Fredonia.”

  “You will join us every evening and we’ll eat together as family should,” their grandmother said. “Tonight you can bring your friend Dawson with you if he would like to join us for a simple supper on our back porch. I’m sure Radford will enjoy a bit of male company.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Adam replied. “I’ll have the Beacon Inn make up a basket for our supper and I will deliver it by seven o’clock if that suits you ladies.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely,” their grandmother said, clasping her hands in front of her breast. “It will allow us time to settle in a bit before supper. Now tell me how you get this whale out of here.”

  Rebecca exchanged a surprised look with Adam. Their grandmother’s invitation to Adam was understandable, and Rebecca was secretly pleased she would be seeing him each evening. Now that she had seen Adam in a different light rather than as a mysterious man from a past that she couldn’t remember, she looked forward to learning more about him. And apparently their grandmother wanted to learn more about Dawson Crane.

  Turning back to the schooner, Adam said, “Before we can get this whale in the water—” he winked at their grandmother “—we need to add deck beams and planks, and then build cabins, add hatches and port holes and other necessities such as cabinetry. Once we finish the inside we assemble the rigging and trim hardware. I’m skipping over many laborious jobs, ladies, but I promised to get you home before supper. There isn’t enough time to share every step in building a vessel, but when this girl is finished, we pull her out through that channel. Once she’s in the bay we float her to the dock where we outfit her sails.”

  “I should love to see that,” Rebecca said, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  “Perhaps I can bring you back to Crane Landing to witness her launch,” Adam said. “Laying the keel and launching our vessels are the most celebrated moments.”

  “Oh, don’t remind me how short my stay will be,” Rebecca said. “I’m already falling in love with Crane Landing.”

  Her comment raised her grandmother’s eyebrow, as if it surprised her to hear Rebecca express such a sentiment. Two months must seem like an extended stay to her grandmother, but to Rebecca it was merely a brief respite from everything she would have to face when they went home to Fredonia.

  Adam just smiled. “Then let us make the most of your time.”

  He guided them out the end of the building opposite where they had entered. Gigantic doors hung on tracks that allowed them to be closed against the strong winds that would sweep the coast in the winter months.

  Outside, Rebecca experienced a moment of sun-blindness that made her eyes tear. “My goodness but the sun is bright today.”

  “The reflection on the water makes it seem brighter. Reminds me of the day we took my dad’s rowboat out onto Lake Erie.” Adam laughed. “Someone I know ran out of steam on the way out. Guess who had to row all the way back before we were discovered?”

  Looking up into his smiling face, Rebecca tried to imagine him as a young man rowing his sweetheart across the sparkling water. The image pleased her. She was sure she would have found him breathlessly handsome as a boy. As a man, Adam was dashing and charming and she was looking forward to learning more about her handsome suitor.

  Adam arrived at Rebecca’s riverside home just before seven o’clock. Following the sound of voices, he walked around back to the porch where Dawson and Radford were already seated and enjoying a glass of mint tea with the ladies.

  “Supper has arrived,” Adam said, passing a hamper filled with cold fried chicken, fluffy biscuits, and sliced berry pie to his grandmother. To Rebecca he handed an intricately woven beribboned basket.

/>   “What’s this?” she asked, peeking inside as if expecting more food items for their supper. Her eyes rounded when she saw the fragrant mound of pine wood chips and sawdust filling the basket. “Oh... Adam.” She inhaled the scent of fresh cut pine she was so fond of. “The basket is beautiful and the smell of these shavings is divine. How thoughtful of you.”

  Adam hadn’t blushed since his early days of trying to woo Rebecca, and it surprised him to feel his face warm now. Maybe it was Dawson’s grin or Radford’s raised eyebrows or that they were all looking at him that made him suddenly uncomfortable—or perhaps it was because this intriguing new Rebecca was showing interest in him. And what did his eager response say about his character? “Shall we eat?” he asked, shifting attention to the hamper of food he’d given to his grandmother.

  “We shall indeed,” she said, getting to her feet. “Let me put this on the table and we can fill our plates inside.”

  Adam carried the basket inside for her. The men followed the ladies into the kitchen where Rebecca and their grandmother set out their supper. With heaping plates, they returned to the porch and sank their teeth into the deliciously seasoned chicken. For the first few minutes they ate in silence, each of them seeming to enjoy the sound of chirping birds and the river only twenty paces away.

  “I think I could be perfectly happy to spend the rest of my life right here,” Grandma said, her fork forgotten in her hand.

  “The river certainly has a calming effect that makes a body want to linger,” Radford said, his eyes cutting to Rebecca as if assessing the river’s effect on her. “What do you think of your little home, sprite?”

  The smile Rebecca gave him chased the late day shadows from the porch. “I love it, Daddy. Thank you.”

  Radford gave a nod in Adam’s direction. “This was Adam’s idea. I can see now that it will suit you better than a room at the inn.”

  “There’s no comparison,” she said, turning to Adam. “Thank you for this wonderful gift.”

  The warmth in her eyes made him feel like an awkward boy again. She hadn’t looked at him like that since before her accident—and this unexpected moment of connection felt so good.

  Dawson stood and patted his slightly rounded stomach. “Think I need to walk off some of my supper. If you’ll join me, Nancy, I’ll show you where I live just across the river,” he said, stopping in front of her.

  “Oh... well, I don’t know. I suppose a short walk would do me good as well,” she said, obviously flustered by Dawson’s attention.

  “Anyone else care to take a walk?” Dawson asked.

  Radford rocked his chair back on two legs and leaned his head against the wall of the house, his eyes already closing. “I’m happy sitting right here listening to the river.”

  “I’ll stay here and clean up the dishes,” Rebecca said. “Go enjoy your walk, Grandma. I can manage alone just fine.”

  And so Grandma, with her cheeks flushed, went for her walk and Radford fell asleep and Rebecca went inside to clean up. Gathering the plates, Adam followed her into the kitchen. He placed the dishes in the sink and asked how he might be of help.

  Rebecca stood behind him, dish towel in hand, her eyes wonderfully alive.

  “Oh, Adam, this place is so... I feel so... I can’t explain, but I feel as if I can breathe here.”

  He nodded because he understood what it felt like to be under the constant scrutiny Rebecca had endured since her accident. At university the constraint of campus and classes and stiff grades chaffed like a tight suit. He couldn’t wait to shuck the ill-fitting garment and get back to the mill and the open yard. For Rebecca to have this quiet home on the river was probably a nice respite from living in the midst of a busy family and community of concerned friends and neighbors. Perhaps a little peace and space would allow Rebecca’s memories to flow like the river outside her back door.

  “I’ll leave the dishes in the sink for now. Let’s put the chicken in the ice box and go on out to the front porch,” she said.

  They stashed the chicken and hurried outside. Seeing Rebecca so animated again reminded Adam of the playful woman she’d been before her accident, and it gave him hope that she was indeed healing.

  Outside, he leaned his shoulder against one of the sturdy columns supporting the porch roof and balcony above. Rebecca rested against the pillar opposite him, the porch steps between them. Their eyes met... and held...

  She seemed to be searching for something familiar that she could recognize and connect with.

  He looked for the girl he’d lost.

  Neither of them found what they sought.

  She swung her gaze to the vast apple orchard across the road. “It appears that apples are a big crop here.”

  “They are,” he said. He didn’t want to waste a single minute of their private moment talking about crops, but he acquiesced hoping it might spark a memory for her. “This orchard is a good deal larger than the one at home we used to play in with your siblings and Leo and a number of neighbor kids that usually included your friend Helen Fiske. Do you remember her? She came to see you after your accident.”

  Rebecca shook her head and continued to gaze into the orchard, her silence telling him she didn’t remember those times or her best friend—or the many concerned people who visited after her accident.

  “Sometimes you and I would meet under the small bridge that crossed the orchard creek,” he continued, sensing her discomfort.

  She looked at him then, appearing intrigued.

  “Another time you gave me a lock of your hair that you had clipped for me.” Adam moved forward and drew her into his arms. “I still have that long silky swirl of hair stored in an old sea chest I found during my first year at university.”

  She stiffened, but couldn’t pull from his arms because of the post at her back.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, immediately freeing her and moving a step back. “Taking you in my arms is the most natural thing in the world, Rebecca. You’ve been in my arms so many times, I forget that it must seem forward and inappropriate to you now.”

  “I... well it...” She smoothed a strand of hair away from her face and met his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy it, Adam, or that it doesn’t feel... natural. It’s just too soon.”

  He smiled because it wasn’t his touch she objected to but rather the pace of his courting. “If I promise to slow down, will you promise to speed up?”

  A small surprised laugh burst from her mouth. Smiling, she shook her head at him. “Has anyone told you that you have a wonderful sense of humor?”

  “You have, sweetheart. Many times.”

  Her smile faltered but stayed in place. “Well, I’m glad to see that hasn’t changed. Do you think it would be all right with the owners if we took a walk through their orchard?”

  “I’m sure Dawson wouldn’t mind at all.”

  “Dawson owns the orchard?” she asked in surprise.

  “This is one of many. He also owns several blueberry farms.” Adam offered his arm. “Shall we walk while we talk?”

  Rebecca answered by linking her arm through his. “I should tell Daddy where we’re going, but I don’t want to wake him.”

  “We’ll stay in sight of the house so he will easily see us should he choose to look.”

  “All right, but I suspect we’ll be back long before he wakes. The sound of the river seemed to lull him like a baby.”

  Perhaps, but Adam knew it was more likely exhaustion from worrying over his daughter that finally overtook Radford. He was even staying the night at the house to make sure his mother and Rebecca were settled and safe here. He would take the morning train bound for Boston and then another to New York, leaving Adam in charge of their stay at Crane Landing and ultimately their return trip to Fredonia. Although Adam’s relationship with Radford had become sadly distant since the accident, they were still cordial and could acknowledge that they each had Rebecca’s best interest at heart.

  Still, the deterioration of thei
r easy friendship cut Adam deep.

  “You seem pensive of a sudden,” Rebecca said as they descended the porch steps. “Would you rather not walk?”

  Instantly, he pulled his mind back to the present, back to Rebecca and his goal to help her remember their love. He gave their linked arms a light squeeze with his free hand. “So what was your best moment of the day?” he asked.

  Rebecca smiled. “I remember this... I mean I remember that you said we do this.” She tilted her head and gazed across the orchard. “I would have to say it was seeing Grandma speechless today when Dawson Crane introduced himself.”

  Adam laughed. “That was indeed a great moment.”

  “What was your best moment of the day?” she asked, her face turned up to his. Black lashes fringed her brown eyes as she surveyed his face. He knew she was getting to know him, and he liked that she felt free to look, to ask, to explore him as she was exploring the world around her.

  “This moment right here with you,” he said, unable to stop himself from brushing his knuckles across her lightly rosed cheek.

  Chapter Fourteen

  At midnight Rebecca crept downstairs hoping she wouldn’t wake her father or grandmother. They were all tired when they bid one another goodnight at ten o’clock. Rebecca had placed her basket full of pine shavings on the floor beside her bed and had fallen fast asleep. Two hours later a headache and disturbing dreams woke her with a start.

  She pulled on her robe and slipped outside to the back porch. Moonlight streamed down in bright beams that shimmered on the river. Water tumbled and splashed and washed over the rocky riverbed. The night was alive with the sound of peepers and crickets and the cries of one tiny distraught creature.

  “I feel lost, too,” Rebecca said softly in answer to the mewling cry.

  Why was she plagued by such odd thoughts? They were too preposterous to have any truth to them, so they couldn’t be memories. Were they brought on by the headaches or was it something far worse like the signs of a deteriorating unstable mind?