To Have and To Hold Page 8
to get married, and it’s what I told you.”
With a wide smile, he asked, “Do you remember anything else?”
Yes, she did, but this went back to the pil ow she sewed for him on their wedding night, and in
her mind, she caught images of being in bed with him and how gentle he’d been with her. She
cleared her throat, sure her cheeks were a wild shade of pink. “I do, but I don’t wish to say it
in a public setting.”
Looking intrigued, he whispered into her ear, “Then I’l have to let you show me when we’re
alone.”
She giggled again. “You’re most definitely a horrible man, Mr. Larson.”
“That only depends on the situation. I assure you I can be good when I need to be.” He
wiggled his eyebrows.
“I don’t know. It seems to me you’re a wicked man al the time.”
They reached the platform and he gave her a hurt look. “Oh, come on, Mary. I am good most
of the time.”
“I suppose,” she began and playful y added in a low voice, “but that’s only during the day.”
A train whistle blew, directing their attention to the train as it pul ed into the station. She had
enjoyed the temporary reprieve from her anxiety over seeing her family. She was sure she had
nothing to worry about. She grew up with them, after al . They were bound to be nice people
and would welcome her and Dave with open arms. They were probably just as nice as his
family.
But no matter how much she kept tel ing herself these things, she couldn’t shake off her
apprehension. She reasoned it was because she didn’t remember them. At least, she hoped
that was why. The train came to a stop and she tightened her hold on Dave’s arm.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “You won’t get lost in the crowd. I promise.”
Though he misunderstood her tension, she returned his smile. “I’m glad you’re coming with
me.”
“I haven’t met your family yet, and now is probably the only time I’l get the chance.”
“It was nice of your family to help us buy the tickets.”
“Yes, it was.” As the doors opened and the people filed onto the platform, he stepped closer to
her. “I think this wil be a good trip.”
She hoped he was right. Taking a deep breath, she waited until they were cal ed to board and
went on the train with him.
***
When they arrived at the smal train station in Maine, Mary and Dave stepped onto the
platform. She scanned the area, wondering if anything there would spur a memory of her life
here, but nothing came to mind.
Dave pul ed out the brass tags for their luggage and waited as a young man placed their carpet
bags on the platform before he gave the man the tags and picked up the bags. He returned to
her and smiled. “What do you think? Is any of this familiar?”
She shook her head. “No. Are we in the right town?”
“Yes. You told me you’re from here.”
“Did I tel you anything else about my past?”
“Not much. You’re the youngest of five sisters and six brothers. Your sister Grace is one of
your dearest friends. Of course, now you say that about Sal y, Jenny, and April.”
She frowned. “Is that it? Didn’t I tel you anything else?”
“No. You let me see a couple of letters over the years, but those contained information about
who had a baby. I wish I could say I remember the birthdays and names, but I don’t.”
“Did I get letters often?”
“Mostly from Grace, but the ones from your mother come about twice a year.”
“But doesn’t Grace say more than who is born and when?”
“She mostly writes about what her two children are doing and comments on what you told her
about Isaac and Rachel.”
Mary sighed. That wasn’t much to go on. “Do you know my parents’ address?”
“No. You end up throwing the letters out.”
None of this was making sense to her. “Why do I throw them out?”
“Wel , there was one letter you didn’t throw out. It was written shortly after we were married,
and you said your father paid you a compliment that meant a lot to you. But we don’t have the
envelope for that one because Isaac ripped it up when he was two. I reckon the other letters
didn’t mean that much to you because you threw them out.”
“Do I throw Grace’s letters out?” she wondered, trying to piece together the situation because
so little of it made sense to her.
“No, but her return address is from New Jersey so that doesn’t help us.”
Frowning, she reluctantly joined him in leaving the train station. Something was wrong. The
trouble was that she couldn’t figure out what or why, and she had no discernible feeling to help
answer her questions.
He nodded toward the street. “Let’s go to the post office. They’l know where your parents
live.”
Adjusting her bonnet to shield her eyes from the sun, her gaze traveled the length of the smal
business district. “This is a lot different from Omaha. Barely anyone’s here.”
He chuckled. “When you first came to Omaha, you were startled by al the people, and now
you’re startled by the lack of them.”
Amused, she grinned. “It depends on what you’re used to, I suppose.”
“It looks like the post office is over there.”
She fol owed the direction of his gaze and saw it. Turning her attention to the few people who
lingered around the businesses, she tried to dig up something familiar about the place.
Releasing her breath, she decided to stop trying so hard. She hadn’t forced the memories
back in Nebraska, and they were coming back to her. Trying to force them now was probably
a mistake.
Giving her an encouraging smile, he led her to the post office. Reluctant, she walked with him,
knowing there was a good reason she hesitated but not able to figure out why. When they
entered the smal building, they approached the smal desk.
The post master looked up and smiled. “Wel , aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! Mary Peters, I
didn’t think we’d ever see you again. Is this the man you went to marry?”
Mary was surprised the man remembered her, but she figured in a smal town, it was easy to
remember people, as long as someone didn’t get amnesia.
Before she could answer the man’s question, Dave put one of the carpet bags down and shook
the man’s hand. “Yes, I’m her husband. Name’s Dave Larson.”
“Walter Smith. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too. Mary had an accident earlier this month, and she has amnesia. We
got a letter from her sister saying her pa has taken il . Anyway, we were wondering if you
could tel us where her parents live.”
“Sure. Just go down the street for three blocks and take a right. Their house is the one with
the large oak tree in the front yard. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.”
“Welcome. And it’s nice to see you did so wel , Mary.”
She wondered at the subtle suggestion in his tone, as if it surprised him but decided to leave
the matter alone. As they walked down the street, she continued to inspect the buildings. At
one time, she used to go in them to do business. The post office, the mercantile, the bakery,
the butcher… Surely, she had gone to those places. She paused at the restaurant.
“Dave, didn’t yo
u say I worked at a restaurant when I was here?”
He stopped beside her and nodded. “You worked for Mrs. Jones. You said the customers
couldn’t get enough of your pies. I know why you said that. You make them better than
anyone else, and I’m lucky enough to be guaranteed a slice even if there’s a bunch of people
you’re cooking for.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that I can remember how to cook and sew—things I learned here,
but I can’t remember the people?”
“I haven’t thought about it.”
He started walking down the street again, and she joined him. “Is it possible that there’s a
reason for it? Maybe there’s something I’m better off not remembering.”
“You didn’t mention anything that upset you about being here. Wel , you were upset when
Grace moved to New Jersey. You said that’s why you became a mail-order bride, but it wasn’t
because you had a bad life here. You said there weren’t any men here you could marry. I
assume that means al of them were already married.”
Probably. Maybe. She took a deep breath and proceeded forward. They reached the third
block and took the right. Her steps slowed, but she didn’t realize it until he turned and waited
for her to catch up to him. Why was this so hard? She’d been afraid right after she lost her
memory. But she was afraid of not remembering her husband and children. She hadn’t been
afraid of them. And she hadn’t been afraid to meet his family again, either. But she was afraid
to meet hers.
“There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “I know there’s going to be a lot of them.
You came from a larger family than I did, but you’l remember their names soon enough.”
It wasn’t the size of her family that worried her. Swal owing the lump in her throat, she trudged
forward, trying her best to hide her apprehension.
Chapter Nine
The house was easy to find since it had the biggest tree in the yard. In the fal , it was probably
a beautiful sight as the leaves changed colors. The tree shaded the whole yard and part of the
two-story brick house. The brick path leading to the house was narrow, so she opted to walk
behind Dave, though he offered to let her go first. The front door was open, but the storm door
prevented bugs from going inside. The windows were open, and she heard a couple of people
laughing. Her stomach tightened in nervous dread, so she didn’t fol ow Dave up the stairs.
He set their luggage down when he reached the front door and did a double-take at the spot
where she was supposed to be, which was next to him. Turning to her, he shot her a
questioning look. She shrugged. If she knew why she wanted to bolt for the train station, she’d
tel him.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the storm door opened and an attractive brunette let out a
delighted shriek and ran down the porch steps. “Mary!” She wrapped Mary in a warm
embrace.
Startled, it took Mary a moment to hug her in return.
The woman pul ed back from her and clasped her hands in hers. “I didn’t think you’d come
when I wrote the letter, but I’m so glad you did. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each
other, and yet, it feels like it was yesterday.” Glancing over her shoulder at Dave, she asked,
“Is he your husband?”
“Yes,” Mary replied, stil not sure what to make of the woman looking at her as if they were the
best of friends. As Dave made his way over to them, she asked, “Are you Grace?” Grace was
the one who wrote the letter so it made sense, but Mary didn’t want to assume she was in
case she was wrong.
Laughing, she shook her head. “Have I changed that much?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember you. In fact, I don’t remember anyone from here.”
“It’s true,” Dave said. “She hit her head and got amnesia. She’s getting her memories back in
pieces, but it’s taking a while.”
Grace glanced from one to the other. “That’s awful. When did this happen?”
“Earlier this month,” he replied. “We read your letter and thought that coming here would help
bring the memories back quicker. Plus, it’d be nice for Mary to see her father before he
passes away.”
“I’m terribly sorry, Mary,” Grace said with a heavy sigh. “I wish you remembered everyone,
especial y me. We were as close as two sisters can be.”
Unsure of what to say, Mary nodded. She had no doubt that she and Grace were close,
especial y considering she kept Grace’s letters. She struggled for something to remind her of
Grace, but her mind drew a blank. She didn’t even have a feeling associated with her sister.
Letting go of Mary’s hands, Grace motioned to the door. “Come on in. Calvin and I are staying
in one of the bedrooms, but there are two more that are vacant. You didn’t bring your children
with you?”
As they walked forward, Mary said, “No. We didn’t think they’d do wel on the trip, being as
young as they are.”
“I suppose that’s true,” she replied, her arm wrapped around Mary’s. “Our trip was shorter,
and Calvin Jr. and Charity are seven and five. Their ages do make it easier to travel.”
They went up the steps and Dave fel behind them so they could enter the house first.
Grace opened the storm door and entered the house first. “We cal Calvin Jr. ‘Cal’, so when
someone says Calvin, they mean my husband, and if they say Cal, they mean our son.”
With an apprehensive glance in Dave’s direction, Mary fol owed Grace into the house and took
note of the stairs to her left. Straight ahead was a hal way and to her right was a doorway
leading to a parlor. She grew up in this house? A quick scan of it didn’t prompt any memories.
“I’l get Calvin to show you to your room,” Grace told Dave before she hurried to the parlor.
“She’s as nice as you said,” Dave whispered.
Mary sighed. “Yes, it seems that way.”
“That’s good.”
Yes, it was. But the sickening sensation in her gut only grew worse. She hadn’t been happy
here. Maybe she was content because it was al she knew, but she hadn’t been happy. She
was happy in Nebraska with Dave and his family. Maybe it was better if she didn’t remember
this part of her past. Would she have come out here to see her ailing father if she knew why
she hadn’t been happy here?
Grace came back out with Calvin who offered them a wide smile and extended his hand toward
Dave.
Dave set down one of the carpet bags and shook it.
“Did you have a good trip?” Calvin asked.
“We did,” Dave replied. “And you?”
As the men talked, Grace came over to Mary. “Father is asleep at the moment. When he
wakes up, you’l get to see him. In the meantime, Katie and Leah are here. They’re our older
sisters.” She paused. “You don’t remember how large of a family we are, do you?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Mary noted that Calvin led Dave up the stairs before she
answered her sister’s question. “Dave said we have six brothers and four sisters.”
“Yes. Our mother is at Chet’s house right now.”
“Chet’s one our brothers?”
“Yes, and he’s the oldest child. He was already twenty when you were born, and I’m two years
older than you. In some ways, he seems m
ore like an uncle than a brother.”
“And Katie and Leah?”
“Five years older than me and seven years older than you. They’re twins. Growing up they
liked to fool us into believing Katie was Leah and Leah was Katie.” She lowered her voice and
said, “We didn’t find it as amusing as they did.”
Furrowing her eyebrows, Mary asked, “Did we like them?”
“We tolerated them. Maybe it’s wrong to say, but if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have enjoyed
growing up as much as I did.”
“And now? Do you tolerate them?”
“They grew up and set aside the need to fool people into believing they were the wrong twin.”
Katie and Leah chuckled from the parlor.
With a shrug, Grace said, “Now that I’ve warned you, you can meet them.”
As Grace led her into the parlor, Mary gave one last look at the top of the stairs where she
could hear Dave and Calvin talking. When Grace and Mary stepped into the parlor, her gaze
fel on the two older brunette women who were hard to tel apart, except for their clothes. In
some ways, they looked similar to Grace. Feeling self-conscious but not knowing why, she
offered them a smile when they turned their eyes in her direction. They glanced back at each
other and exchanged looks that was meant to be a secret message. Unsure of what to make
of it, Mary shifted from one foot to the other.
From beside her, Grace said, “Mary has amnesia. Mary, this is Katie and this is Leah.”
Katie’s eyebrows furrowed. “Amnesia? But how did she get such a thing?”
It was on the tip of Mary’s tongue to suggest Katie ask her the question, but Grace spoke up
before she could. “She had a fal . Fortunately, there were no other injuries.”
Mary took the seat next to Grace on the couch but shook her head when Grace offered her
something to drink. Her stomach was doing more flip flops. The last thing she wanted to do
was drink something.
Katie positioned herself so that she was facing Grace and Mary. After she sipped her tea, she
asked Grace, “Are you saying, she doesn’t remember us?”
“Yes,” Grace replied.
“Then what is she doing here?”
Mary wondered why Katie didn’t talk to her even though she was looking straight at her.
“She got my letter saying Father is il ,” Grace replied before turning her gaze to Mary. “The