She tried to shake her head, but instantly regretted it as arrows of pain shot into her temples. “No,” she whispered.
“What about your name?” he asked softly as he used a bell-shaped tube to listen to her chest. “Can you tell me your name?”
“I don’t know it,” she replied tearfully. “I can’t remember my name. I can’t remember anything!” she cried, her desperation mounting. “How did I get here?”
The doctor reached out and took her hand, patting it in a paternal manner. “There was a terrible storm last night. A ship was wrecked just off the coast. You washed up on the beach.”
She drew a complete blank. She had no recollection of being on a ship or of the terrible events the doctor was describing. Surely, she’d be able to remember a shipwreck. One didn’t easily forget something like that.
“Are there any other survivors?” she asked hopefully.
“We haven’t located any yet,” the doctor replied softly. “But there are people scouring the beach even as we speak.”
She glanced toward the window, wincing at the light. The doctor had said the storm had happened last night. The sun was high in the sky, so it had to be close to noon. If they hadn’t found any other survivors by now…
“Everyone must have drowned,” she said under her breath, blown away by the scope of the tragedy. Her shoulders sagged in defeat as all hope drained away. She had survived, but she couldn’t recall the most basic of facts. Yet she remembered how to speak, she thought desperately, and understood the ramifications of a ship going down in a storm. How was it possible to remember some things and forget others so completely, especially anything that pertained to her own life?
“Why can’t I remember anything?” she asked desperately.
Dr. Rosings’ gaze was warm with sympathy. “I have no first-hand experience of memory loss, but the body and the mind are surprisingly resilient. You’ve suffered a blow to the head and a near drowning. Perhaps your mind is dealing with the trauma by blocking out painful and frightening memories. After a period of rest, I think your memories will begin to return. All you need to know right now is that you are safe and there are people who want to help you.”
“What people?” she asked, needing to know their names and something of who they were.
“Ben and Joshua Wilder were the ones who found you this morning. They brought you to their house. Their mother, Hannah Wilder, is a kind, God-fearing woman. She has volunteered to look after you until you recover.”
“That’s very kind of them. Where am I, exactly?”
“You are in the town of Milford on Long Island. Does the name mean anything to you?”
“No.”
“What about New York City?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, I recall the name, but have no memory of being there,” she replied.
“Not to worry. Recalling the name is great progress in itself, in my professional opinion,” he said, smiling at her. “I will come back to see you tomorrow to check how you’re getting on. In the meantime, I suggest we give you a name. Is there a name you particularly like?”
She shrugged. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“How about Alice? I’ve always liked that name.”
“All right,” she agreed hesitantly. The name didn’t feel right. It was like putting on someone else’s shoes that were too small and pinched one’s feet, but the doctor meant well, and Alice was as good a name as any.
“Very well, then, Alice,” Dr. Rosings said, rising to his feet. “Small meals, bed rest, and quiet.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Alice replied, and watched him leave.
Desolation swept over her once again as soon as the doctor left. She closed her eyes and willed herself to rest, as he’d instructed, but her mind refused to comply. Her mind spun like a top, thoughts forming and splintering, and dissolving without making any sense. If she closed her eyes, bright colors formed behind her eyelids, overwhelming her with their strange hues. She felt frantic, her frustration at not being able to quiet her mind mounting until she thought she would scream with desperation.
It was then that her rescuer came.
Chapter 8
March 2018
London
Quinn set the ring aside when she heard a little voice over the child monitor.
“Mum? Mama?”
Mia was awake. Quinn sighed regretfully, wishing she could have spent a few more minutes in the past. Being able to see two people’s memories from one artifact was very rare. It only happened when the artifact had belonged to both people, but the ring had been on Ben’s finger, and he’d just met Alice. Or had he? Quinn looked forward to finding out, but Ben and Alice would have to wait.
Mia was sitting up in her cot, her dark gaze anxious, when Quinn walked through the door. Alex was still asleep, his mouth slightly opened and his hand clutching a toy car.
“Come on, my girl,” Quinn said as she lifted Mia into her arms. The little girl wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck and rested her head on her shoulder, her body solid and warm in Quinn’s arms. “Did you have a nice nap?”
Mia nodded into Quinn’s neck. “I’m hungry.”
“Let’s get you a snack, then. What would you like? How about an apple?”
Mia looked up, her feathery eyebrows knitting in displeasure. “Biscuit. No, three biscuits,” she quickly amended. For someone who was just beginning to speak in complete sentences, she was very good at negotiating.
“Two biscuits and two apple slices,” Quinn said, her voice firm.
“Okay,” Mia muttered. Quinn was sure Mia would eat the biscuits first and then just nibble on the apple. She wasn’t a big fan of fruit and veg.
Having had her snack, Mia ran off to the lounge in search of her favorite toy, a pink Barbie computer that Seth had sent her last month. Quinn was partly amused and partly annoyed by the number of parcels that showed up on her front step. The grandparents made up for not being able to see the children regularly by sending toys, outfits, and books, despite Quinn’s pleas to not spoil them so. Quinn did like the educational toys, though. The Barbie computer was for a child of at least three years old, but Mia had figured out how to work the toy in a matter of minutes.
Quinn settled on the sofa and watched her daughter at play. She really was amazed by Mia’s progress these last few months. Alex hadn’t begun to construct proper sentences until he was closer to three and hadn’t been interested in pretend play unless it was rolling cars on the carpet and making vroom-vroom noises, but some people said girls developed faster at this age. That was certainly evident in Jill’s daughter Olivia, who seemed to have come out of the womb as a tween.
As if reading her mind, Mia looked up. “I want to play with Olivia,” she said imperiously. She was a right little madam sometimes, Quinn thought, a smile tugging at her lips as she looked at her daughter’s impatient little face. “Today,” Mia stated.
“Sorry, darling, but you’ll have to wait until Saturday. Olivia’s mum works, so Olivia can only have playdates on weekends.”
“What day is today?” Mia demanded.
“Monday.”
Mia shrugged and went back to the computer, Olivia momentarily forgotten. Quinn reached for the plastic bag containing the ring and examined it more closely. She had cleaned it very carefully, using mild soap and bits of cotton to clean away the grime. The band was wide, made of solid silver and etched with a pattern that resembled a woven braid. The ring would have been too big for Alice’s delicate fingers. Had she ever worn it? Quinn wondered as she turned the bag over in her hand.
Based on her brief foray into the past, Quinn thought Gabe had been right when he’d said the skeleton was about two hundred years old, give or take a few decades. Judging by the fashions and implements Quinn had seen in the Wilder household, it had to be sometime in the eighteenth century, possibly around the time of the Revolutionary War. She hadn’t had much interest in American history before meeting her biological father, but having witnessed the ev
ents that had led to the death of Madeline Besson just before the American Civil War, Quinn had decided to make more of an effort to learn about her father’s country’s history. She found that she enjoyed it, all the more so after she’d visited the newly formed colony of Virginia through the eyes of Mary Wilby, who’d been one of the first Englishwomen to set foot in the New World.
Might Alice have been British? The American accent had evolved over the centuries, but in the 1700s, the two accents would have still been virtually indistinguishable from each other. If Alice had, in fact, come from England, that might explain how the ring came to be in Hertfordshire. It stood to reason that the skeleton now occupying one of Colin’s slabs was Ben Wilder, but Quinn wasn’t about to take anything for granted. She was just at the beginning of this story, and she knew from experience that she should avoid drawing hasty conclusions.
Chapter 9
“Did you see Colin today?” Gabe asked once the children were in bed and he and Quinn had settled in for their nightly chat.
Quinn leaned against the armrest of the sofa, her legs outstretched, her calves resting on Gabe’s thighs. “Yes. He’s getting married soon. He seems happy.”
“Good for him,” Gabe said. He took a sip of his beer, looking thoughtful. “Did he ask about Logan?”
Quinn nodded. “I think he still misses him.”
“Do you think Logan ever regrets the way things ended?” Gabe asked.
“I’m not sure. He never talks about it. He’s all about the coming baby right now,” Quinn said.
Gabe didn’t say anything, which was telling in itself. He tried to follow the old adage, If you have nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all.
“What?” Quinn asked. They didn’t often discuss Logan’s domestic situation, but she could see Gabe’s reservations.
“It’s not for me to judge. I certainly hadn’t been ready for fatherhood, but it’s an odd situation, don’t you think?”
“How so?”
“Well, Rafe seems to be in denial about the whole impending fatherhood thing, which is not an easy thing to do given that the surrogate is living with them. What happens once the baby is born? Will she simply pack her bags and leave? And are Logan and Rafe prepared for the changes that will need to take place once they have a newborn?”
Quinn shrugged. “I have no idea. Logan hasn’t really outlined their plan, and it doesn’t seem right to ask. I’m sure Sylvia will help them out. Perhaps she’ll even move in for the first few weeks.”
“She had better. There needs to be at least one adult in that household,” Gabe remarked.
“Gabe, that’s unkind.”
“The truth is rarely kind,” Gabe replied. “You did ask. So, what did Colin say about the skelly?” he asked, clearly ready to change the subject.
“Not much. He’ll ring me in a few days. And how was your day?”
Gabe shrugged. “The usual. Staff meeting, followed by a lecture hall full of students who’d rather watch videos on their mobiles, several complaints from staff that the ladies’ bathroom had run out of toilet rolls, then a heated argument in the teachers’ lounge that almost ended in blows.”
“Oh dear,” Quinn said, trying to hide her smile. “What did they argue about?”
“An article that appeared in the new issue of Archaeology Today about the black sarcophagus that was discovered in the Valley of the Kings. I never did figure out what the issue was. They were screaming and swearing so much, I couldn’t make out a word of the actual argument.”
“What did you do? Put them in timeout?” she joked.
“Basically. I banished them to their respective classrooms to cool down.” Gabe’s sigh sounded like a deflating balloon. “I’ve just about had it, Quinn. I was elated when I was offered the position of department head, but I feel like all I do is try to keep a bunch of rowdy children from pummeling each other on the playground.”
“And then you come home and try to keep a bunch of rowdy children from pummeling each other in the lounge.”
Gabe laughed. “I can honestly say that our children are more mature and better behaved than most middle-aged archeologists.”
“They are certainly cuter,” Quinn said. “And speaking of children, Mia’s birthday is coming up next month.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but my mum wants to come down for a few days.”
“Of course, I don’t mind. Why would I? She can stay here with us,” Quinn suggested, but knew Phoebe would refuse. She preferred to stay in a hotel, where no one woke up crying during the night or argued loudly about what to wear to school in the morning. Phoebe had trouble sleeping and often slept well into the morning to make up for the time she’d lost during the night.
“She’ll stay in a hotel,” Gabe said predictably. “She misses the children, though, and she’s been so lonely since my dad passed away.”
“I can certainly understand that,” Quinn said. “Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart.”
“No,” Gabe agreed. “It isn’t, but there’s actually some good news. My mum’s sister, Flora, is thinking of selling up and moving into Mum’s community. That would be ideal. They bicker like an old married couple, but they love each other to bits, and it would be nice for them to be so close to each other.”
“You mum must be thrilled,” Quinn said.
“Let’s just say she’s cautiously optimistic. Flora can still change her mind.”
“Why would she?”
“Seems there’s a gentleman friend that has arrived on the scene,” Gabe said, smiling. “Flora is smitten.”
“How sweet. How would you feel about your mum finding herself a boyfriend?” Quinn asked. Phoebe had been resolutely alone since Gabe’s father had died, but as Gabe had said, she was lonely.
“I’d be thrilled. I hate that she’s all alone, but she’ll never consider moving down to London to be closer to us. She wants to remain close to my dad, so that she can visit the memorial park. She goes every week. But getting back to Mia. What do you think she’d like to do for her birthday?”
“If the weather is good, maybe we can go to the zoo and then have a little party for her at the house. We can invite Jill, Brian, and Olivia, and Rhys, Katya, and Vanessa. And I’m sure Sylvia would like to come. And Logan and Rafe, of course.”
“Sounds great. Okay, I’m off to bed,” Gabe said. “You coming?” he drawled, giving her a look that would melt an iceberg.
“I am,” Quinn replied softly, and wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her off the sofa and captured her lips in a kiss.
Later, once Gabe had fallen asleep, Quinn reached for the plastic bag on the nightstand. She usually fell asleep before her head hit the pillow, especially after making love, but tonight she felt strangely awake, her mind eager to learn more about Alice. She felt the familiar fog descend on her as an image of the Wilders’ farm replaced the shadows of the bedroom.
Chapter 10
“Hello. I’m Ben.”
He wasn’t classically handsome. His nose was a trifle too long and his eyes deep-set and slanted above sharp cheekbones. He was a big man, tall and broad, and his hands, which hung limply at his sides, were large and capable, the hands of a working man, the hands that had touched her and lifted her off the ground when she had been half dead. He grinned shyly, and Alice knew it to be a genuine smile, one that reached the eyes and made them glow with warmth.
“You were the one who found me,” Alice said. She hadn’t realized she was smiling, but the bewilderment she’d felt since waking receded, replaced by curiosity about this man who’d cared enough to bring her into his home and offer her shelter. “I’ve been christened Alice by Dr. Rosings,” she added, trying to make light of a situation that left her trembling with fear.
“I heard. It’s a lovely name,” he added. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick to my stomach,” she replied, focusing on the physical discomfort instead of the panic she was trying desperately to keep at bay. Hannah h
ad offered to bring her some soup, but she couldn’t imagine eating anything. Not yet.
“I expect you’ll feel that way for a while. You probably swallowed a lot of seawater. Is there anything you need?”
Just someone to talk to, Alice thought, but she didn’t want to put him out. He probably had things to do. She couldn’t help noticing the calluses on his hands. A farmer, she guessed, or maybe a carpenter.
“I could bring you a book,” he offered. “Do you like to read?”
“I don’t know,” she answered truthfully. “I don’t know anything about myself,” she said in a small voice.
“Just think how exciting it will be to discover everything anew.”
“Will it? I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”
He smiled again, a slow, warm smile that made her feel marginally less scared. “You survived. That’s all that matters.”
She tried to keep the tears at bay. Yes, she had survived, but what was she meant to do now? Where was she to go once she was strong enough to leave in a few days?
Ben shifted from foot to foot, watching her as if he could read her mind. “We’ll figure out who you are. I promise,” he said.
Alice nodded, unable to speak. How could he make such a promise? But it didn’t matter. Just knowing that he was willing to help her made her less afraid.
“Thank you,” she said, gazing into his dark-green eyes. “Thank you for helping me, Ben.”
“It’s my pleasure,” he said, his gaze warm on hers. “I’ll come back to check on you later.”
Alice watched him leave, her initial gratitude replaced by wariness. There had been obvious male interest in Ben’s gaze, but there had also been something else. If she had to put a name to it, she’d say he’d looked at her in a proprietary way.
The Lost (Echoes from the Past Book 9) Page 4