To Have and To Hold Read online

Page 18


  returned made her feel better about standing there in the room when Katie was being overly

  nice to her—something she didn’t particularly care for since it seemed as if Katie was

  manipulating things to her advantage.

  “I hear hungry children.” Katie hurried to finish putting jam on the bread. “We’d better get

  breakfast ready for them. I remember how impatient my son was when he was younger.”

  Mary decided that was a good idea. The sooner they ate, the sooner she could go out with

  Dave to the lighthouse and be away from Katie. Two days. Two days and the train would be

  there, and she and Dave would never come back here again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Mary tightened the strings on her bonnet so the wind wouldn’t blow it off. The walk had been

  long, but she felt it did her a lot of good. With each step she took away from town, the better

  she felt. It seemed as if the longer she remained in Maine, the more she was remembering

  about her life here. That shouldn’t be surprising. She’d remembered more about her life in

  Nebraska when she was there. But she was beginning to realize she could go through the rest

  of her life not remembering a single thing from her life in Maine and be happier for it.

  She sat on the bench not too far from the lighthouse. Though the ocean spanned before her,

  she didn’t see it. She saw fields with cornstalks waving in the breeze. Maybe she grew up

  here, but her heart was in Nebraska and always would be.

  “It is nice out here,” Dave said as he sat beside her. He took her hand in his and squeezed it.

  “I think we needed to get away from everything. It’s been a long couple days.”

  That was an understatement. It felt more like they’d been there for years. She leaned against

  him, taking comfort in his strength. At least out here, no one would accuse her of acting

  inappropriately with her husband.

  “You’l be alright ,” he whispered, putting his arm around her shoulders and pul ing her closer

  against him. “We’l be home soon enough.”

  She nodded. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me too.”

  “Dave, tel me something about our past that I haven’t remembered yet, something good.”

  “We’ve had a lot of good times.”

  “Is there one that’s your favorite?”

  “Hmm…” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t know if I have a favorite. From the moment I met you,

  my life’s been complete.”

  Amused, she poked him in the side. “Then it shouldn’t be hard to tel me something that’s

  good.”

  “Wel , it is because there are so many good memories.”

  “Dave!”

  “What?”

  Noting the laughter in his voice, she smiled. “How am I going to remember things if you don’t

  help me?”

  “Alright. Let’s see… One of my favorite memories is after I was out retrieving cattle for a

  neighbor, I came home and saw you had taken over the chores I typical y do in a day. You not

  only did al that work, but you also rubbed my back so it wasn’t so sore. I reckon it probably

  doesn’t seem romantic, but that meant a lot to me. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think

  that’s when I first loved you.”

  Her smile widened. “That is a good memory.”

  “I don’t know if it was so much for you. You were the one who did al the work.”

  “But you loved me. Is there anything else that matters?”

  “No.” He kissed her and gently squeezed her shoulders. “No, there’s not.”

  She returned his kiss. In many ways, his touch and kiss eased the bitter memory of Grace’s

  wedding day. When she was with him, it was easy to forget the way she used to feel around

  her family. He deepened the kiss and the rest of the world slipped away. For the moment, it

  was just the two of them, and it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. Al that mattered was

  that he—her husband—saw something in her worth loving.

  When he ended the kiss, he kissed her cheek and then her neck. Afterwards, he drew her

  closer to him and wrapped her protectively in his arms. Content, she sighed and turned her

  attention to the ocean, final y seeing it the way her father wanted her to see it. The sunlight

  bounced off the water that continued on into the horizon. She stil longed to see the Nebraska

  fields, but she could see why her father enjoyed this spot.

  “There are other things that are among my favorite memories,” Dave said in a soft voice. “Like

  when Isaac and Rachel were born. I remember holding them for the first time and thinking of

  how tiny they were and how lucky I was that you’d given me a child.”

  “I wish I could remember the day they were born.”

  He kissed her again and smiled at her. “You wil .” Standing up, he held his hand out to her.

  “Would you like to get a better look at the lighthouse?”

  Feeling much better than she’d been feeling when they left Katie’s house, she nodded and took

  his hand.

  ***

  When Dave and Mary returned to town, it was mid-afternoon, and Mary thought she might offer

  to help Katie with supper, if for no other reason than to speed up the time before Grace and her

  family returned. As they neared Katie’s house, Mary became aware of others walking the

  streets or talking to each other in front of their homes. She tried to ignore the feeling of the

  world closing in around her, but it was hard. People glanced at her and then at Dave. Were

  they wondering why he married her? Of course not. It was sil y that they’d think that. Wasn’t

  it?

  With a long sigh, she ignored them as much as she could and hurried toward Katie’s house. As

  soon as she got inside the house, she wouldn’t have to wonder what people were, or were not,

  thinking as they watched her and Dave. She didn’t like feeling insecure. She didn’t feel this

  way in Nebraska before they came here. What was it about being here that brought up the

  worst in her?

  By the time they made it to Katie’s house, she breathed a sigh of relief. Good. In her hurry,

  she didn’t bother waiting for Dave to open the door for her.

  Dave chuckled. “I know you like to cook, but I’ve never seen you move this fast to get to the

  kitchen.”

  Relieved she was inside, she took off her bonnet and forced a smile at his joke. “I’m looking

  forward to being back in our kitchen. When we get home, I’l make you as many apple pies as

  you want.”

  “That’s a dangerous thing to tel a husband.”

  “Wel , I want to make you happy.”

  “You already do. I don’t need a lot of pies, but I won’t turn down one or two every week or

  so.”

  Noting the teasing tone in his voice, she giggled, noting the way her shoulders relaxed.

  “I see you’re back,” Katie cal ed out from the top of the steps.

  Dave and Mary turned their attention to her as she came down the stairs.

  “Did you enjoy the lighthouse?” Katie asked once she reached the bottom of the staircase.

  “We did,” Dave replied.

  A nine-year-old boy ran into the house. “We caught a seven-pound fish!”

  “That’s good,” Katie replied. “Gerald, you haven’t met your aunt and uncle yet. This is Dave

  and Mary.”

  The boy looked at them and then his mother. “Dave and Mary?”

  “Yes. Mary’s my sister who lives in
Nebraska.”

  “Oh, Plain Aunt Mary!”

  Katie offered a nervous laugh. “Gerald, Mary came a long way to be here for your

  grandfather. It’s a long way from Nebraska to here. She and your uncle wil be staying here

  for the next two days.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they were invited.” Katie smiled at Mary and Dave. “Children. Al they ever do is ask

  questions, don’t they?” Turning back to her son, she added, “Go clean up. I can smel the fish

  al over you.”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  As he ran to obey her, a man came into the house, carrying a big container. “Got us a good

  one this time.” He blinked when he saw Mary. “My goodness! So this is Mary Larson.”

  Glad he hadn’t referred to her as ‘plain’ like Gerald had, Mary smiled. “How do you do,

  Clifford?”

  “Clifford?” He threw back his head and laughed. “Good heavens, woman. My name is Bert.”

  “Bert?” Mary dumbly replied.

  Katie sighed and patted Mary on the arm. “Poor thing got amnesia.” She looked at Mary with a

  worried frown on her face. “Mary, don’t you remember that I told you my husband’s name is

  Bert?”

  “What?” Mary asked, unable to understand what was going on. She distinctly remembered

  Katie tel ing her that his name was Clifford.

  Katie turned her concerned gaze to Dave. “She hasn’t been forgetting things after the accident,

  has she?”

  “What accident?” Bert asked.

  “She fel and bumped her head,” Katie replied. “She forgot everything and everyone. I hope it

  isn’t a situation where she’l forget things here and there.”

  “I don’t think it is,” Dave said, his eyebrows furrowed.

  “I hope not.” Katie patted her arm again and then took the fish from her husband. “I’l get this

  ready for supper. Dave and Mary wil be staying here for two days until they can take the next

  train home.”

  “Oh. Alright.” Bert shrugged. “I got to put the fishing poles and bait away.” Before anyone

  could respond, he was already on his way back out the door.

  Katie giggled. “Never mind al that. Mary, would you like to help me with the fish?”

  “I don’t remember any fish recipes,” Mary began uncertainly, “but you have some, don’t you?”

  “Oh, I don’t need them. I’ve done this so much that it’s something I don’t have to think about. I

  can help you as we go along.”

  Bert returned with the fishing supplies. “Dave, I should tel you about the kinds of fish we got in

  the area. You’d be surprised at the variety out there.”

  Dave glanced at Mary with a question in his eyes. When Mary nodded that she was fine with

  him to join Bert, he agreed and fol owed him down the hal .

  Katie shook her head. “Dave’s about to hear enough fishing stories to bore him to tears. You

  can’t help but feel sorry for him.”

  “I suppose,” Mary replied.

  She fol owed Katie to the kitchen and debated whether to press her about tel ing her that her

  husband’s name was Clifford. She was certain that Katie said it was Clifford. Sighing, she

  decided not to think about it.

  ***

  After supper, Mary decided to chance a visit to see her father. She wanted to tel him she took

  Dave to the lighthouse as he requested, but she didn’t want to see her mother. Just the thought

  of running into her mother caused her stomach to tie up into knots.

  As she put on her bonnet at the front door of Katie’s house, Dave whispered, “You don’t have

  to say anything to your mother. If she so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’l talk to her.”

  “No, Dave,” she softly replied. “I don’t want to cause any more trouble. I just want to talk to

  Father and come back. I already said my peace to Mother.”

  “You’re right. You did. But if she says anything to upset you—”

  “I’m going to be with Grace, and Mother’s nice when she’s around.”

  Before he could make a comment, she went over to Grace who was helping her daughter with

  her shoes. She knew Dave couldn’t understand why her mother was nice to her other children,

  but she didn’t feel like explaining how her mother resented losing control of her life when she left

  Maine.

  Grace finished helping her daughter and turned to Mary. “Are you ready to go?”

  As Mary nodded, there was a knock at the door. Katie left the parlor and brushed by Mary as

  she hurried to open it. “What’s wrong?” Katie asked the person at the door.

  Mary and Grace walked over to Katie, but Leah directed her gaze at Katie. “Father’s time

  came. He’s no longer with us.”

  Mary sighed and pul ed her bonnet off. So much for going to see him.

  “How is Mother taking it?” Grace asked.

  “She’s managing wel enough. It’s not like we weren’t prepared for his death,” Leah said. “The

  wake wil be tomorrow and the funeral wil be the day after that.”

  Katie turned toward Mary but looked at Dave. “Wil you stil be leaving in two days?”

  “What do you think, Mary?” Dave asked from behind her.

  “It’s only right we pay our respects,” Mary replied, wondering why Katie didn’t even glace her

  way. Her eyebrows furrowed, she looked at Grace who was talking to her son in quiet tones.

  Returning her attention to Katie, she continued, “When does the next train come in?”

  “Monday,” Katie replied, stil not making eye contact with Mary. She looked at Leah. “Does

  Mother want any of us over or would she like some time alone?”

  “She’s asked to see you and Grace,” Leah answered with a cautious glance at Mary. “I think

  it’s best if you stay here, at least until the wake.”

  Though Mary’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and shame, she nodded and headed for the

  parlor. If that didn’t prove how little her mother thought of her, then nothing would. Dave

  fol owed her and sat next to her on the couch. He made a move to hold her hand but then

  quickly put his hand back on his thigh. She knew he was trying to comfort her, but she didn’t

  think anyone or anything could comfort her at the moment. She avoided eye contact with him

  because she knew if she didn’t, she’d break down and cry, and she was tired of crying because

  of her mother.

  Grace left the entryway and sat in the chair next to the window. Surprised, Mary lifted her

  gaze in her direction. Grace shrugged. “I think Mother has enough people going over there.

  She doesn’t need me.”

  Mary appreciated what Grace was doing but couldn’t let her fol ow through with it. “You should

  go.”

  “She won’t even notice I’m not there.”

  That’s where Grace was wrong. Their mother would notice, and that would only make things

  worse. “Do it for your children then. They need a grandmother who’s happy to see their

  mother. I won’t be coming back to Maine. There’s no reason for you to bear the brunt of her

  anger because of me.”

  “But Mary—”

  “Grace, go.”

  With a long sigh, Grace stood up and slowly walked over to the entryway where Katie was

  getting her hat on. Mary dug her fingernails in the palms of her hands. It took her a moment to

  realize she hadn’t done that peculiar habit since she arrived in Nebraska. In Nebraska, she

  hadn’t felt the cold grip of anxi
ety either. And she certainly didn’t feel like an outsider. Her

  relatives were gathered together to console her mother, but she wasn’t welcome to attend.

  Though she couldn’t recal a time when her mother special y forbade her to be with the family,

  she got the distinct impression that she was used to sitting by herself except when Grace was

  around.

  “I don’t think we should stay for the funeral,” Dave whispered.

  “He’s my father,” she replied softly, blinking back the tears from her eyes.

  “I know he is, but he’s not going to be there. His body wil be, but he won’t. Besides Grace

  and Calvin, I don’t think anyone else cares if we’re there or not.”

  The fact that he said “we” instead of “you” didn’t go unnoticed. He real y did love her.

  As everyone headed out of the house, Grace looked back at Mary with a question in her eyes.

  Mary mouthed the word “go” and Grace reluctantly obeyed.

  After Grace shut the door behind her, Dave took Mary’s hand in his. “I can see why you stayed

  here while Grace lived here. She’s a good sister.”

  “Yes, she is. She reminds me of a mix between Sal y and Jenny.” He chuckled, and she settled

  against him, her body relaxing. “I like your entire family.”

  “They like you, too, and not just for your food.” A moment of silence passed before he

  continued, “What do you say? Want to leave in two days?”

  She bit her lower lip and tried to think of one good reason why they shouldn’t, but she knew

  there was no point in staying. He was right. Her father wouldn’t be there, and she’d already

  spent time with Grace. There was no reason to linger here, not when she’d have to deal with

  her mother ignoring her and the rest of the family not caring.

  She nodded. “Alright. We’l leave then.”

  Dave let go of her hand so he could slip his arm around her waist. Closing her eyes, she

  rested her head on his shoulder and pretended they were already back home where Isaac

  would be searching for a frog and Rachel would be playing with her dol before Dave had to

  take care of the evening chores.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mary stirred in her sleep. Once again, she dreamt of mirrors. This time the voices were more

  distinct and the images in the mirrors better defined. They were her memories, and while they

 

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