My Forever Love

by Wendy Lindstrom

  “Oh, my... are you sure we used to do this?” she asked, fingering the dirty stone.

  “Positive and you trounced me every time.”

  “All right then. I’ll do my best to continue the tradition.” She drew her arm back and threw the stone. It landed in the river and sank like a... stone.

  “Hooray, I won the first round!” Adam raised his fists in the air and did a silly dance that made her laugh.

  She hadn’t seen him so playful and animated. His lighthearted teasing was infectious, and before she knew it she was digging up her own rocks and taking note of every move he made. From the angle of his elbow to the flick of his wrist, she watched intently and imitated him. “Eureka!” she said, scooping up two more stones. “I’ve got it now. If you’ll kindly step aside, sir, the competition is about to begin.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” he said, sweeping a ridiculous bow that made her laugh again.

  She hooked her pointer finger around the stone and flung it backhand. The stone skipped across the surface of the water three times and sank. “I did it!” she exclaimed.

  Grinning at her success, Adam nodded. “But to win you must get six skips with one stone.”

  “I’m just warming to the challenge.”

  “Me too,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the back of her dirty hand. “Let me know when you’re ready to begin the competition.”

  “I fully recognize your underhanded attempt to distract me, Adam, but I’m oblivious to your charm.” She retracted her hand, but couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Game on, sir.”

  Laughing, he scrounged up three stones for each of them. “Ladies first.”

  She set her feet and flung her stone. “One... two... three... oh drat.”

  “Three for you and—” he flung his stone “—one... two... three... four... ah, well, it tops your three.”

  Leveling her stone in her fingers, she flung the disc shaped rock and added a last second wrist flick that sailed the stone across the water five times before it slowly sank.

  “Oh, boy...” Adam’s exclamation made her laugh.

  “I’m not sure if I’m remembering how to do this or if I’m just a quick study.”

  “I suspect you’re both much to my detriment.” He threw his stone and got three high hops before it disappeared. “That round goes to you, my lady.”

  She prepared to throw, but held back last minute. “I need another rock. Something flat and smooth, if you can find one.”

  “Oh ho! Now you want me to find you the perfect stone so you can trounce me again?”

  “Yes, sir.” She bit her lip, but couldn’t stop her giggle. “Please, Adam. This is the most fun I’ve had in... well, since I can remember.”

  “Trouncing me? Or throwing stones?” he asked.

  “Both.”

  “Wicked woman, I’ll do your bidding, but be warned I’ll not let you win.”

  And so they spent several minutes searching out the two most perfect throwing stones they could find on the bank of the Crane River. Stones in hand, scrubbed free of dirt, they entered their final match.

  Rebecca set her feet, angled her elbow, leveled her stone and flung it backwards, finishing with a hard flick of her wrist. “One-two-three... four... five... six!” Her squeal of delight echoed along the creek. “Top that, Mr. Grayson!”

  The expression on his face was such a mix of tender adoration it held her spellbound. For a single moment in time on the rocky riverbank she and Adam rediscovered each other. She felt their connection... their friendship... their love.

  “You... you need seven to win,” she whispered.

  “I already won.” He flung his stone out across the river where they watched it skim the sparkling surface five times. “You haven’t lost your touch, Rebecca.”

  With him? With skipping stones? Heat suffused her face and she turned her attention to brushing the excess dirt from her fingers. “I’d like to see more of the river path, if you don’t mind.”

  He presented his arm and they slowly strolled the worn dirt track along the river, both of them growing quiet and contemplative. “What was your favorite moment today?” Adam asked.

  “Waking up with Jojo in my life.” She lowered her lashes, embarrassed by her answer. “That probably sounds silly to you.”

  “Not at all.” He gave her arm a light squeeze against his side. “While watching her this evening I fell a little in love with her myself.”

  “You did?” She glanced up to see if he might be teasing her.

  His brown eyes held nothing but sincerity. “I fell a little in love with both of you.”

  “I thought you were already—” Rebecca bit her lip to stop the mindless comment. “That is... I thought you were growing tired of her pestering you.”

  “I enjoyed the little scamp. And yes, Rebecca, I am already in love with you.” He drew her to a halt on the path. “Don’t ever doubt that,” he said, as if he needed to assure her—and himself.

  Breathless, she looked up at him all tall and handsome and gazing at her in a way that made her legs weak. “Wh-what was your best moment today?” she sputtered because she had no idea how to reply to his declaration of love.

  “Seeing you at the mill.”

  She had to move this conversation to a more comfortable topic. “If I hadn’t come to the mill, what would have been your best moment of the day—before you came here this evening?” she asked, leaving no room for him to work her into his answer.

  “Other than thinking about you, my best moment was seeing Micah Crane return to work.”

  “He works at the mill? I thought he was of school age,” Rebecca said.

  “He’s nearly eighteen and he works in the shipyard.”

  “Goodness. The night we supped with the Cranes he didn’t say five words all evening. I thought he was just a shy boy.”

  Adam nodded. “I thought the same when I first met him. Apparently he has some growing ahead of him yet.”

  “One would hope.” Rebecca put a little room between them. “Why has he been out of work?”

  Adam’s slight hesitation was unusual, as if he needed to gauge and formulate his response. “Micah took a bad fall from faulty scaffolding on a ship. He took a nasty hit to his chin when he fell into the bay. Doc Samuel has kept him out of work until now just to make sure Micah was steady on his feet before climbing rigging and scaffolding again.”

  “That must have been terrifying for Mr. and Mrs. Crane,” she said. “I’m surprised they will allow him to go back.”

  “He’s not a boy, Rebecca. Despite his appearance he’s a young man who is honored to follow his family into the shipbuilding business.”

  “I understand, but after touring the mill and shipyard every job looks dangerous. Oh, Adam, please be careful.”

  A soft smile tilted his mouth. “Could this be evidence that you might care for me a little?”

  She cared for him more than a little, but he was far too ardent in his manner this evening for her comfort. “Who will I skip stones with if you get injured?”

  His hoot of laughter startled a squirrel on a branch overhead. It scurried farther up into the large maple tree and watched them with suspicion as they moved on.

  “I’ve missed this side of you,” he said, guiding her along the worn path.

  “Until coming to Crane Landing I haven’t felt much like laughing.”

  “I understand. I know how difficult it must be for you.”

  “It’s also difficult for everyone around me,” she said, “especially you, I suspect. I hope you know I’m doing my best to find my way through this.”

  He nodded, and they walked on in silence for a minute or two.

  “Adam, how old were you when you moved to Fredonia?” she asked. For her own security she could never reveal the disturbing thoughts she’d had about his mother, or her own mother for that matter, but perhaps she could learn more about both of them from Adam.

  “I was an awkward thirteen-year-old
boy. Why?”

  “I’m trying to piece my life together like a puzzle, but find I’m missing nearly all of the pieces. What brought your mother to Fredonia?” she asked, intentionally shifting the conversation back to his past.

  “I came to Fredonia with my sister, Faith, because our mother had died.”

  “Oh, dear, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I mean I must have known, but of course I didn’t remember that.”

  “It’s all right, Rebecca. I understand why you need to ask questions. Faith opened the greenhouse and sold herbs and balms. She met your Uncle Duke and they got married. Duke adopted me, giving me the Grayson name that I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to live up to. I met you shortly after I moved to Fredonia and I was instantly enamored of you.”

  “Was that before or after my uncle adopted you?”

  “Before. We met in June. Duke didn’t adopt me until December. We weren’t cousins. Not ever, Rebecca. You and I have always been sweethearts.”

  “Did my father know this?”

  “Yes, and he didn’t like it. For a while he forbade me to see you because he felt I would lead you astray.”

  “I can’t imagine that. Daddy seems to think quite highly of you, Adam. He apparently accepted you at some point.”

  Adam halted and glanced back toward the house. “I promised Grandmother we wouldn’t stroll too far. Let’s head back and I’ll tell you about the winter we found Leo and Benny hiding in our greenhouse.”

  Although his comment stirred her curiosity she had noted the abrupt shift in conversation. He’d done the same thing when she’d asked about Micah Crane’s accident. Sensing he was being intentionally evasive bothered her, but she couldn’t think about it while he was filling her head with stories of Leo and their Sleigh of Hope run each winter and the many summers they all spent rowing Canadaway Creek and the colorful fall season when they would rake the leaves into enormous piles and hide in them. He went on about their festive Christmas celebrations in the hall above the greenhouse and dances and fireworks and on and on until her head ached trying to place the memories within the context of her life. He talked about being thirteen and twenty and jumped back to a time when they were sixteen and then fourteen until the memories circled her mind like debris in a raging whirlpool.

  “Adam, please!” She held up her hand. “Please just... stop.”

  “What is it, love? Is something the matter?”

  “There are too many pieces to my life. I’ll never remember all of this. I can’t even recall what you told me two minutes ago. I’m sorry, Adam, but my head aches and I need to lie down.” Frustrated, she pulled her arm free and increased her pace. They were near the house and she just wanted to escape inside and play with Jojo until she forgot every memory Adam just crammed into her already confused mind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mary Crane arrived at the house a full forty minutes before the start of Sunday service. She came in style aboard a sleek Phaeton Basket, and she managed the reins of her saddlebred mare, Josie, on her own.

  Rebecca, who had stepped outside to cut a few stalks of snapdragons to place on the picnic tables after church, put the pruning scissors and basket of flowers aside and headed down the shelled walk to greet her. When she saw Mary’s magnificent horse and sporty carriage it made her think of the livery back home and her own beautiful mare she’d left behind. She missed Star and also her parents and siblings, but she knew it was impossible to go back yet.

  Greeting her newfound friend, Rebecca watched as Mary climbed out of the phaeton with ease. Tall and resplendent in a small-bustled silk day gown patterned with tiny roses and complimented by a rose-colored belt cinched around her slender waist, Mary appeared every inch the daughter of the town’s most beloved patron. Her dark hair was swept up into a pleasing style and crowned with a fashionable feathered hat that matched her gown.

  The more Rebecca learned about Mary, the better she liked her. She harbored a wildly independent spirit that Rebecca aspired to while at the same time she carried the pain of loss that resonated with Rebecca. Mary Crane had been married only a year when her husband, Peter, an older man and captain of one of the Crane’s merchant vessels, had died unexpectedly while picking up cargo in the Cayman Islands.

  “Rebecca, is your grandmother not joining us this morning?” Mary asked.

  “She received a more pleasing proposition from your uncle Dawson,” Rebecca said, unable to hold back a smile.

  Mary arched her shapely eyebrow. “Uncle Dawson is calling on your grandmother?”

  “They seem to have become fast friends. He has become a frequent visitor.”

  “Why... that’s wonderful. I can hardly wait to see my father’s face when I tell him that Uncle Dawson is courting your grandmother.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t carry their friendship that far, Mary. Not yet anyhow.” Rebecca motioned to the basket of flowers she’d left at the doorstep. “If you give me just a moment, I’ll get my parasol as well as the snapdragons I gathered to place on the tables.”

  “Oh, no need to hurry. May I walk in with you? I should love to see your kitten.”

  “Of course,” Rebecca said, leading the way up the shelled walk. “Jojo is sleeping in her bed. It’s just an old crate on the kitchen floor, but she seems to like it.”

  The scent of summer and ocean wrapped about them, and once again Rebecca found herself amazed by her surroundings. The morning sun sparkled bright against the white house with its bevy of windows that faced the wide flowing river—four on the first floor, five on the second floor, and three smaller windows at the attic level. She loved the house and was deeply contented with lazy evenings on the back porch talking with her grandmother and Adam and playing with Jojo.

  She led the way through the front door and into the front parlor, which was one of her favorite rooms with its cheerful wallpaper and Queen Anne style furniture.

  “That’s always been one of my favorite pieces,” Mary said, gesturing at the roll-top desk in the far corner of the room.

  “Mine too,” Rebecca said. “In fact, I found something inside that must belong to your family.” She crossed the room and opened the desk. From inside one of the cubby hole compartments now revealed, she pulled forth an old hymnal. “I’ve meant to ask you about this, but details such as this seem to slip my mind so easily.”

  Mary’s mouth opened on a breathy laugh. “So this is where it’s been hiding. This belonged to one of Princess Cecily’s daughters,” she exclaimed, glancing at Rebecca. “Mother and I thought it long lost. Now that I know it’s in gentle hands I’d like to offer it for your use while you are in Crane Landing.”

  “Oh, my—thank you,” Rebecca said, truly touched by Mary’s warmth and generosity. “I would very much enjoy using it during my stay here. I’m afraid my memory isn’t so good just now. The hymnal will allow me to sing along today.”

  Mary’s expression flattened. “I’m dreadfully sorry about your accident. I can only imagine how difficult all of this is for you.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Having a friend lightens my heart considerably,” she said, clasping Mary’s gloved hand.

  “As does your friendship,” Mary replied. “Thank you for your honesty, Rebecca. Let’s turn our thoughts to more enjoyable topics on this sunny Sunday morning. This book has been handed down in my family from one generation to the next. As a boy, my father carried it to service every Sunday. In fact, he and my mother used to use it when they were courting to pass notes back and forth during services.”

  Rebecca smiled. “I can only imagine how excited they must have been to turn its pages and find each other’s notes.”

  “Sometimes a little too excited,” Mary said as her eyes brightened with laughter. “Mother says she was scolded more than a few times for having the book open to the wrong hymn at the wrong time.” Laughing, Mary gave a small shake of her head. “It astonishes me to think of my parents as young lovers, but I suppose it shouldn’t. They are still very much in love.”
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br />   Rebecca nodded. The love between Georgia and Eliza Crane was obvious and enviable. “Adam said we once shared a love like that, but I can’t remember it,” Rebecca confessed to her friend. “It’s hard knowing I lost something so beautiful.”

  “I understand only too well,” Mary said softly.

  Rebecca grimaced. “Of course you do. I’m so sorry.”

  Mary nodded and glanced at the hymnal in Rebecca’s nervous grip. “You’ll find songs of joy and of sorrow in that book. They are life’s songs, Rebecca. No one who lives can escape heartache or pain. You and I are both living examples of this. My hope is that you are finding great joy and healing here at Crane Landing.”

  “I am.” Rebecca grasped the hymnal with both hands. “This place speaks to me,” she whispered, holding the old book tight. She ran the pads of her gloved thumbs up and down the roughly textured binding of the hymnal. “It’s as if Princess Cecily’s courageous spirit permeates everything around me.” The gold leaf of the title blurred as tears rose in her eyes. “My attempt to get on with my life seems puny compared to her effort.”

  “You’ve known great hardship lately,” Mary said, compassion filling her voice. “Lightning has struck your life; that’s what GG, my Great-great-granddaddy Crane, would say if he were alive. He lived in this house once. In fact, this very room was once struck by lightning. But he never thought about what was taken. Instead, he focused on what remained and he rebuilt this part of the house. Though the lightning and rain took a good portion of it, the rooms and chimney that survived were strong and proved their worth again and again.”

  Rebecca lifted her chin, wondering if she could find the cornerstones of her life and rebuild from there.