Rocky Mountain Memories

The two women shared a look that told Gemma they knew, or at least guessed what was in that envelope.

“Those are not the terms—”

“I know, Wilber. And you’ve been most circumspect in coming here as soon as our dear girl arrived home,” Margaret soothed. “But Gemma isn’t herself. She’s been through an earthquake and she has amnesia. The doctor’s orders are for her to minimize stress.”

Even Gemma could see the lawyer weakening under the genteel ladies’ soft words and beseeching expressions. She had a hunch that there weren’t many people who could deny these aunties whatever they asked for. They were characters. It would be fun to get to know them.

“If you could just explain to Gemma what you need from her, sir,” Jake added quietly. “Once she knows whatever it is, she can think about it and come back to you if she needs clarification.”

She threw him a grateful look. He was such a sweet man to always keep smoothing the way for her.

Always? Jake had smoothed her way before?

“Is that your wish, Mrs. Andrews?”

Gemma glanced around, wondering whom he was addressing and found everyone staring at her. Oh. Mrs. Andrews. That was her name. How strange.

“Gemma?” Mr. Hornby pressed.

“Yes, please. Just tell me the basics,” she said, nodding.

“Very well, though it’s rather difficult...” Mr. Hornby paused, gathered his thoughts and then began speaking. “Your husband—you remember he went to college after finishing high school?”

“I’m afraid I don’t remember anything,” Gemma told him. “Just pretend we never met before and tell me what you think I need to know about, um, Kurt.”

“All right.” Hornby cleared his throat. “He told me he was uncertain about his next step and went to college to try to figure things out. While he was there he met a woman, Anna, a law student in her final year, who became a good friend. Kurt learned she was pregnant and desperate to finish school. She felt she had no way to raise a child and adoption was out because she couldn’t pay for a delay in her education. She intended to have an abortion.”

“I see.” So the stepchild must be the Alexa he’s talking about. But why would my husband...?

“Kurt was totally against abortion. He said he tried desperately to talk Anna out of it, but she would not be swayed. She saw no other option.” Hornby paused for breath, then continued. “To be brief, Kurt persuaded her to marry him, insisting he’d support her until the child was born and continue to work to ensure the child was cared for while Anna finished her schooling. Nothing romantic about it, Kurt said. His whole concern was for the child. Anna finally agreed to marry him on condition he told no one about their arrangement.”

“Where was I during all this?” Gemma asked, struggling to absorb the information.

“Overseas, at language school,” Jake said immediately. His face reddened at the surprised looks from the aunts. “I remember that’s where you went after high school.”

“You are correct, Jake. Gemma spent time mastering languages in Europe,” Margaret agreed somberly.

Mr. Hornby cleared his throat.

“Please go on.” A sudden chill made Gemma shiver. Now what?

“When the child, Alexa, was born, Kurt took care of her. He loved her, but he hated the secrecy of not being able to share her with his family. So after Anna graduated, Kurt came home one weekend to tell his parents the truth. When he returned, Anna and her child were gone.” Mr. Hornby took off his glasses and polished them on his handkerchief.

“Gone where?” Gemma realized she was perched on the edge of her lawn chair. “And how do I fit in?”

“Anna later called Kurt to explain that she’d arranged for them to divorce. She had a new job and wanted a fresh start for herself and Alexa, and for Kurt. Anna was adamant that Kurt belonged with you. She’d always known he loved you.” Mr. Hornby managed a smile.

“Easy for you to say,” she muttered, a little embarrassed. It didn’t seem like the lawyer was talking about anyone she knew.

“Mrs. Andrews, Kurt told me he loved you dearly and that there’d only ever been friendship between him and Anna.” The lawyer’s hard face softened. “But little Alexa had stolen a piece of his heart. Kurt had no legal or biological claim to her, of course. Still, he felt that if ever she needed him, as his mother had needed him, there should be funds available for her. That’s why he set up her trust fund. His request was that if he was not able, you should manage the fund for Alexa. Kurt had great faith in your ability to protect her.” He held up the letter. “This is his explanation to you about the matter.”

“But why didn’t he just tell me himself? Why did he keep it a secret?” Gemma’s head ached as the knowledge whirled round and round inside it. The letter in her hand felt heavy, full of problems, and she already had too many of those. “What am I supposed to do with this fund? Make sure it’s invested properly—something like that?” She glanced at Jake for help, but he appeared as puzzled as she felt. “I don’t know anything about investing or trust funds.”

Something clicked in her brain, like her words weren’t quite true. But she didn’t understand how that could be. And suddenly this world of everything unknown felt like it was closing in on her.

“May I say something, dear?” Tillie’s soft voice broke through Gemma’s confusion. “Margaret and I knew about Alexa. Kurt’s parents confided in us.”

“That was one of the reasons for the disagreement,” Margaret chimed in.

“What disagreement?” Gemma read disapproval on the ladies’ faces.

“My dear, you came home to announce your elopement and we were very happy for both of you.” Margaret’s smile eased some of the tension gripping Gemma.

“But when we asked your husband privately if he’d told you about Alexa, he insisted that he wanted you to meet the child first so you could bond, but Anna and Alexa were away that weekend.” Sadness edged Tillie’s words. “We disagreed with Kurt’s decision. We felt he should have explained about the child before you agreed to marry him. I’m afraid it caused a bit of a rift between us and him.”

“He certainly should have told me the truth before we got married,” Gemma said, feeling indignant for Kurt’s wife. Wait, that was her! “But since he didn’t, it’s a moot point.”

Everyone was watching her, including Jake. She shifted uncomfortably, waiting for someone to speak. When they didn’t, she blurted out her thoughts.

“So what now? Am I supposed to do something about Alexa? Is she okay? And what in the world could I do anyway? I haven’t even got a job.” Worried and muddled, Gemma fumed. “I can’t help myself, let alone a child.”

“May I suggest something, Gem?” Jake’s smile somehow calmed her. “Maybe you could find out about Alexa, make sure she and her mom are all right. At least then you’d have peace of mind.”

“I guess I could do that,” she agreed, then frowned. “What do I do after that?”

“If Alexa doesn’t need Kurt’s money, you could ensure it’s wisely invested and then leave it to grow until she does need it,” he said with a shrug.

“That sounds advisable,” the lawyer agreed.

“Yes,” Tillie said, though she was frowning. She looked at her sister.

“It does sound good. Only, Alexa and her mom aren’t all right,” Margaret blurted.

“How do you know that?” Jake studied the sisters with narrowed eyes.

“We’ve kept tabs on them. Kurt and Gemma were away so much, you see.” Margaret cleared her throat. “We felt it our duty to watch over the child.”

“And so?” Gemma replied automatically. She felt so confused and muddled and her headache was back.

“I’m sorry to tell you that Anna was accidentally killed three days ago in a drive-by shooting.” Tillie’s sad voice was hushed.

“The day of the earthquake,” Gemma whispered, aghast.

“Yes.” Margaret sighed. “Apparently Anna had a will that named Kurt as Alexa’s guardian in the event of her own death. Because there are no other relatives and Kurt was unreachable, Anna’s daughter, Alexa, was placed in foster care. We’ve been praying and praying for a way to help the child.”

“Yes,” Margaret exclaimed. “And now you’re home, Gemma. A true answer to prayer.”

“Me?” Gemma blinked. She glanced sideways at Jake and found no help in his shrug. So she studied her aunts. “I’m an answer to prayer? What am I supposed to do?”

“We have no idea, dear,” Tillie said, her smile sweet.

“Not yet. But we’ll think of something,” Margaret said confidently. “We always do.” She rose. “Or you will. Oh, dear, look at the time. I’m so sorry, Gemmie, but Tillie and I must leave. We have an appointment in Chokecherry Hollow that we simply cannot cancel, but it shouldn’t take too long.”

“My dear girl,” Tillie said, rising and moving close to pat her shoulder. “You’re safe now. Jake will show you around The Haven and your room is waiting for you. As always.”

Gemma sat stunned as the ladies kissed her cheek and told her again how glad they were to have her home. Then they bustled away. The lawyer rose, too.

“I must also depart. As Kurt’s executor, I’m happy to answer any questions you may have, Mrs. Andrews—Gemma. Call on me anytime.” He, too, left.

Gemma felt like Dorothy in Oz, right after the tornado had touched down. Wait, how did she remember that?

“Well, I guess I’d better get started answering those calls—” Jake started to say.

“No you don’t!” He was her lifeline and she wasn’t about to let go of him in this sea of confusion. “You brought me here, Jake. You got me into this. Now help me figure it out.”

He opened his mouth to protest, studied her for a moment and then poured himself another glass of lemonade. He sat down, huffed out a huge sigh and swallowed half of the pale yellow liquid.

“I’m only The Haven’s handyman, Gem,” he said weakly.

“You’re the fixer, that’s why all those people called you,” she said, struggling to make sense of everything she’d learned. “Now help me figure out how to fix things for this child that my husband loved so dearly, when I can’t even remember my own name. Wait a minute. That picture.” She blinked, remembering the photo of the smiling child.

“Gem, are you okay? You look...weird.”

“The picture that was in my wallet. That must be Alexa. Maybe Kurt did tell me about her and I just forgot. Along with everything else.” Suddenly the sun felt too hot, the problems too large, the decisions too overwhelming. Somewhere in the recesses of her brain she thought she could hear a man’s voice calling, Take care of her. Take care of Alexa.

The world wobbled. Had she really heard that or was she dreaming? She felt so strange.

“Jake?” she whispered.

“Yes, Gem?” His voice came from a long way away.

“Have I ever fainted before?” Gemma didn’t hear his reply as she slid off her chair and onto the patio.

Chapter Three

For the next two days, Jake stayed away from The Haven, trying to catch up with his work and hoping to give Gemma time to absorb everything in her world. But with each day that passed, his concern about her ramped up. Somebody had to do something.

Though he’d called the local doctor after Gemma had fainted, though she’d been given a thorough checkup and she had pooh-poohed his concern, he worried. She did look and sound fine, yet she seemed somehow diminished. Apparently her interest in Alexa had also lapsed because she remained silent on that issue.

“Want to check out our fishing hole this afternoon?” Jake had asked yesterday when he’d seen her sitting on the deck. He’d pointed out the spot, expecting she’d jump at the chance to resume her favorite activity.

“I just showered. I’ll get dirty scrabbling down that hill,” she’d mumbled, barely meeting his gaze. “Anyway, Adele’s a chef. She doesn’t need me to bring home supper.”

Excuses made, Gemma had resumed staring across the valley.

It seemed to Jake that she couldn’t muster the strength to move on with her life. Since Tillie and Margaret gave the impression they were perfectly content to let their foster daughter float through the days, Jake felt it was up to him to help her snap out of it. Which was why when he found Gemma in the kitchen near noon today, still swathed in her bathrobe, he discarded his white-glove treatment.

“Since you’re not busy, can you help me out?” He was relieved that his peremptory tone jarred her from her vacant stare through the massive window to the distant mountains.

“Help you out with what?” Though Gemma looked at him, her gaze was hazy, unfocused.

“With my work here at The Haven.” It was the only thing he could think of to motivate her. “I’m behind.”

“Because you took time off to come get me.” As he’d expected, Gemma immediately jerked upright. Twin dots of color appeared in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been selfish, haven’t I?” She sounded more like herself. “I don’t know that much about your work, or anything else for that matter. But I’ll help however I can if you’ll show me what to do.”

“For starters, get dressed. Old clothes. We’ll be working in the dirt.” Jake lifted one eyebrow when she simply sat there. “Well?”

“Dressed. Got it.” Gemma rose and strode across the room. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned. “Will you wait here, or should I find you?”

“I’m already late,” he told her in a brusque tone that he despised but used because it seemed to be shocking her out of her dazed lethargy. “Find me in the garden.”

“The garden.” She didn’t move. “Uh, the garden is...?”

He pointed.

“Right. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Gemma promised.

“Wear a sun hat,” he called after her retreating form.

“Do you think that was wise, dear?” Tillie murmured.

Jake whirled to find the aunts standing behind him, both wearing disapproving frowns. They’d obviously overheard his less than gentle tone. Jake mentally grimaced, hating that he’d caused that look of strain on their sweet faces.

“Gemma needs to be busy, to be doing something,” he explained gently. “Sitting around, waiting for her memory to return isn’t helping her.”

“What if it doesn’t return?” Margaret’s hushed tone revealed her concern.

“Ladies,” Jake chided with a smile. “Where’s your faith?” He was rewarded with their nods. “Until Gemma’s memory returns, she needs a purpose. Maybe gardening will give her that.” Did he sound more certain than he felt? “It’s better than doing nothing,” he offered belatedly.

“Yes, it is,” Tillie agreed.

“Thank you for trying to help, Jake,” Margaret added. “We’ve been afraid to push Gemma. Shame on us for our lack of faith in God.”

“It’s time we prayed about this in a different way, sister.” Tillie slipped her hand in Margaret’s arm and drew her out of the room. A moment later Gemma appeared clad in raggedy jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie and a sun hat he hadn’t seen for years.

“I thought you said you weren’t waiting,” she accused, her megawatt smile flashing. “The aunts,” she guessed. “They waylaid me, too.” She waved a piece of delicate pink notepaper.

“A Bible verse?” Jake guessed as he held the door for her to exit The Haven.

“Uh-huh.” She handed it over so he could read the spidery script.

Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.

“Psalm 139.” Jake handed back the note which Gemma folded and tucked into her back pocket.

“You know it?” She seemed surprised, yet her stride matched his and she never faltered.

“Sure, I know it.” Jake hesitated to say more, but being Gemma, he figured she’d keep pressing for the why. “It’s a good verse. I looked it up after someone said it to me once.” He glanced her way and almost smiled at her raised eyebrows. She’d always been full of questions.

“Why did they quote that verse to you?”

“It was after a funeral.” Two funerals, actually. Change the subject, Jake. “Did you think more about Kurt’s stepdaughter?”

“Alexa. I haven’t been able to think of anything else. I’m almost certain she’s the child in that picture I found in my wallet. Maybe Kurt told me about her or maybe I found out.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll never know.”

“Either one sounds plausible.” Relieved she hadn’t brushed off the orphaned child, he asked, “Are you going to apply for her guardianship?”

“Me?” She gaped at him. “What do I know about kids? I was thinking more along the lines of bringing Alexa here for a visit. I’ve been watching the kids who come. They all seem to have a wonderful time.”

“Yes.” Jake had hoped for more, hoped for Gemma to interact with the child. Maybe if her focus wasn’t on what she’d forgotten...

“You want me to weed?” Gemma stood at the fenced entrance to the garden, surveying it.

“Do you want to?” He smothered a laugh at her eager nod.

“Yes! I love weeding.” As soon as the words were out, her forehead pleated. Her expression faltered. “Don’t I?” she asked hesitantly.

“You did.” He handed her a pair of work gloves she’d left behind long ago, and grinned as she slid them onto her slender fingers. “You’ve loved weeding ever since the first time the aunts sent you out to weed as punishment for some misdeed. You were supposed to work an hour. You were here for three and I didn’t have to do it again for a week. You used to beg them to send you out to weed.” He chuckled. “I often wondered if you sometimes broke a rule or misbehaved just so you could get your fingers in the dirt.”

“Sounds like I was a brat.” Gemma knelt and with a touch born of long experience, eased a thistle out of the ground from between tender carrot shoots. “Was that why I eloped, do you think, to break a rule?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, Gem. You never said.” Jake sank to his knees in the next row and began extricating the unwanted green invaders from around his beans.

Silence stretched between them, a comfortable peace The Haven always seemed to engender in him. At least it had until Gem’s return. For some reason Jake now felt like he had to keep up his guard, had to keep reminding himself of his vow to Lily.

“There’s something wonderful about weeding,” Gemma murmured more to herself than him. “It’s exciting, like you’re preparing the way for something. You can’t see exactly what’s happening, but you know the end result will be so good. We’ll have carrots.” She said it almost triumphantly.

“And peas and beans and...” Jake let it trail away, amused by the satisfaction filling her face.

“I remember once when I was in Italy—” Gemma stopped, blinked and stared at him. “I remember something!”

“Good. What is it?” He kept on weeding, waiting to hear whatever thought was emerging. Listening to Gemma speak about her travels had always fascinated him.

“I was in a garden there.” She leaned back on her heels, her gaze on some far distant place. “There were the most massive tomatoes and I was picking the best.” She stopped and grinned at him. “To make sauce for lasagna. Or rather, Mamma Francesca was teaching me how to make it. Those tomatoes were so delicious.”

“Cool,” he murmured, watching the wash of sun light up her face. Gemma was gorgeous. Then shadows filled her eyes.

“I don’t know what else happened,” she murmured. “I can’t—”

“Remember,” he finished for her and winked.

“Exactly!” Gemma exclaimed. She burst out laughing and the tense lines dissipated.

They worked together for a while in a genial silence that required no speaking. Jake had a hunch she was remembering more, but he remained quiet, loathe to interrupt.

“I must have been to Italy several times,” she eventually murmured. “In my mind I can see the Coliseum, the tower of Pisa and a spot on a mountain where there was an eruption.”

“Vesuvius,” Jake offered.

“No. Mt. Etna. Three days after Kurt and I left, there was an eruption. It was a big tour group and we were so glad we hadn’t delayed...” Gemma blinked several times, then twisted her head to look at him. “Why can’t I remember my husband, Jake?”

“You will. But you have a lot of memories tucked in that lovely head. I guess they can’t all come at once.” He kept working.

“What am I supposed to do until I do remember?” A hint of bitterness colored her voice. “That’s part of what bothers me with the whole Alexa thing. What do I have to offer her? I don’t remember how to lead a tour anymore, but even if I did, how could I travel and care for a child? Or am I supposed to stay here and freeload off the aunts until I remember my life? If I ever do, that is.”

“Gemma,” Jake scolded. “Last year your sister was injured while rock climbing. Nobody thought she was freeloading when she stayed in bed to let her leg heal. Olivia happily took over her job.”

“Victoria always did love scaling the most treacherous places,” Gemma muttered, apparently unaware that she’d identified which sister without any prompting. “But this is different. I don’t work here.”

“Maybe you could for a while,” he suggested.

“Doing what?” she asked, eyebrows arched. “Showing people around? Kind of hard since I don’t know my own way around the place.”

“You’ll figure it out. Give it some thought. I’m sure you’ll find a niche in The Haven’s ministry that only you can fill.” He paused before asking, “What will you do about Alexa?”

Gemma rose. She studied the group of kids playing dodgeball nearby in a grassy meadow. Then she considered the circle of stones they’d gathered around last evening to roast marshmallows. Lastly she surveyed the play equipment her sisters used for their own children. She remained silent for some time. When she did speak there was a hesitancy to her words that told Jake she was struggling to sort out her emotions.

“I think I’ll ask Victoria to find out if Alexa can come here for a visit.”

“That’s a great idea.” Jake hoped she wouldn’t change her mind. A lonely child could be exactly what Gemma needed to take her mind off her own problems.

“We can get to know each other. I don’t want to abandon this child whom my husband apparently cared for so deeply,” she murmured, forehead pleated. “But what if—?”

“I’ll help you,” he interrupted, wondering why he was doing this when he’d spent the past six years basically isolating himself at The Haven. Now he was going to help with some orphaned little girl he didn’t even know? Yes.

“Thank you, Jake.” Gemma’s smile somehow made it all make sense. “What will we do with her?”

“Help her join in the activities with all the other kids,” he said, glancing over her head at a group of kids now flying kites. “There’s always something to do here.”

“I suppose.” The way Gemma dragged out the word proved he’d missed the intent of her question. “I actually meant what will I do with her? What kind of things would help me get to know Alexa?”

“You were always good with kids, Gem. You’ll think of something. And you do have Kurt in common. But I’m not sure you need to plan it all out ahead of time,” he cautioned. “Maybe you wait, watch to see what she enjoys and build on that.”

“How did you get to be so smart about kids, Jake?” Gemma moved farther down the row, annihilating weeds as if driven.

“I’m not smart about kids,” he denied as the familiar surge of loss bloomed inside. I didn’t get that chance. Don’t go there. “Hey,” he challenged, desperate to change the subject. “Are you doing the corn rows or am I?”

“You take forever. I’ll do it.” She shot him a cheeky grin. “You always baby the seedlings too much. Once they’re out of your greenhouse and in the ground, they’ll toughen up. You have to be strong to live in the foothills of the Rockies.”