A Time to Remember

Marissa thrust out her legs and stared.

“I feel like Fifi La Ronge.”

“Who?” Adam and Gray stared at her.

Marissa blushed. “Never mind.” She stood and practiced walking. Then she glanced around the room. “Are we ready to go?”

Adam glanced at Gray. “Cody at school?”

“Yes.” Gray’s stormy eyes met his brother’s without flinching. “He’ll come home on the bus.”

“I could pick him up.”

“Don’t bother. A neighbor’s child will make sure he gets off at the right stop. I’ll be there waiting.”

Adam shrugged, but Marissa thought she saw a glimmer of hurt in his dark brown eyes.

“Suit yourself. I was just trying to help.”

“Really? You really want to help, Adam? Then why don’t you pitch in at the ranch? I could use a lot of help there. Especially now.” Gray’s steady gaze remained pinned on his brother.

Adam’s laugh held no amusement. Marissa saw his eyes harden, watched the snide tilt of his mouth transform her brother-in-law’s charming face into a mask of petulance.

“My own father didn’t think I had it in me to ranch, Gray. Why would you think any differently?”

“Maybe I see a side of you that Harris didn’t.” Gray glanced down at Marissa, but apparently decided to voice the rest of his opinion in spite of her presence.

“Harris loved you, Adam, and you know it. But he was afraid you’d gamble the ranch away just as you’ve done with the inheritance he left you.” His voice dropped to a tone of quiet steel. “Anytime you want to come on board, you just let me know. I’m not trying to steal anything from you, but neither am I prepared to let you blow our father’s lifework in some crap-shoot. And until you can prove your allegations about my ancestry, I suggest you keep them to yourself. Marissa doesn’t need the extra aggravation.”

He drew her forward, toward the door. Adam stood in their path, but he silently stepped aside as they approached. Marissa paused, looked into his eyes and wondered at the hurt she saw there. Her heart ached for these two brothers so at war with each other.

“Thank you for my slippers, Adam,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his arm. “I like them very much.”

He caught her hand, squeezed it. His eyes opened wide when her sleeve fell back and he caught sight of the fading marks. His gaze flew to meet Gray’s, asking a silent question.

“No, we don’t know who did it yet,” Gray murmured. He slipped an arm around Marissa’s waist. “At first I thought you might be to blame.”

Adam straightened, his anger visible, but Gray merely smiled that sad, painful twist of lips that mocked Adam’s indignation.

“Don’t worry. I soon realized that my own brother couldn’t possibly want to hurt a woman who never did him any harm. Besides, Cody loves you, Adam. That’s good enough for me.”

Marissa wanted to say something, anything to ease the anguish on the other man’s face, but she couldn’t think of a word. After several tense moments Gray heaved a sigh and solved the problem for her.

“Go ahead and pick up Cody, Adam. Only make sure you come straight home. Whoever did this is still at large. We’ll see you there.” Then Gray whisked her out of the room and down the hall before she could respond.

“What’s the rush?” she puffed, surprised at how quickly she became winded.

“No rush. Sorry.” He adjusted his pace. “They said they wanted to take you out in a wheelchair, but I’d like to avoid that, if we can. I’ve taken care of the paperwork.” He helped her through a side door. Just beyond the curb sat a shiny black truck. “Just in case someone is watching you, I’m not prepared to give them another opportunity to hone their abduction skills.”

He half lifted her inside, tucked her robe in around her and fastened her seat belt, then climbed into his own seat.

“Okay?” he asked, his hand on the ignition.

“I guess.”

Truthfully, Marissa didn’t know what else to say. It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay in this strange new world. But it wouldn’t help to keep complaining about things. Somehow God would make sense out of the distortions in her world. She didn’t know exactly how she knew that, but the solid comfort of the thought nestled down inside her heart and warmed her like a close friend. For the first time since she’d discovered her name, Marissa didn’t feel alone. God was there. Watching. He would help her.

She sat back, prepared to take in every sight and sound that might give a clue about her home.

“Home” took shape as a white rambling rancher-style house with a veranda just made to sit on and sip lemonade. It wrapped around the house as far as she could see, offering a fantastic view in every direction. The foothills had begun their autumnal color change, vibrant oranges and reds glowing in the late afternoon sun.

Marissa could only gaze in rapt admiration at the horses grazing in the pasture, at the herds of cattle dotting the golden hills and wonder at the beauty and serenity of this place that had been her home.

Why had she been afraid to come here? It was gorgeous. Yet even as she thought it, her eyes picked out a densely forested area far beyond the white fences. Prickles of fear made her skin crawl as she stared into the emerald-green of a coniferous forest. There were no bright tinges of red to lighten the ominous darkness, no yellow or orange streaks to break the shadowed duskiness she knew lay beyond that boundary.

“Marissa? Are you all right?” Gray stood beside her opened door, one hand upraised as if to touch her face. “I thought you’d gone into a trance. What’s wrong?” He turned, surveyed the landscape, tried to find what held her attention.

“What’s over there?” she asked, pointing.

He tilted his head back, peering across the land.

“Pastures. Grazing land. Hills. The creek. Why?”

“Does anyone ever go there?” she whispered. Her skin crawled with some nameless fear she couldn’t quite repress.

“Sometimes I ride in to get a stray. It’s pretty dense back there and very easy to get lost, but I leave it untouched because Harris, my father, wanted one piece of his property to remain wild. So did Dani’s dad, on the ranch next door.” He frowned at her. “Why are you asking?”

“I don’t know.” She shivered.

“Come on, it’s cold out here. I should have brought your coat.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her across the yard and up the stairs.

The door opened before he arrived. A tiny woman stood in the doorway, her silver hair wound into a complicated twist on top of her head.

“Come in, come in. It’s getting cooler every day. I suspect winter will come early this year.” She waited until Gray had set Marissa down, then held out one soft white hand. “I’m Evelyn Biddle. Your husband and I talked earlier this morning. He said you’d want to interview me.”

“Interview?” She looked to Gray for help. He didn’t get a chance to respond.

“As housekeeper, dearie. Now come along, you just sit down in this big old chair in front of the fire. I saw the dust from the truck and knew you’d be along soon, so I made some tea. Would you like some?”

“Yes, please.” Almost before she could blink, Marissa found herself tucked into the chair, an afghan covering her knees and a cup of sweetly scented tea in her hand.

“There we are. Now you just relax a bit. Winifred told me some of your story. It’s a terrible thing. Just terrible.”

“Thank you.” Winifred, that would be Winifred Blessing. If the kindly baker lady had sent this woman, Marissa was certain Mrs. Biddle would make a perfect housekeeper. There was something about Miss Blessing that inspired confidence no matter how long you’d known her.

“Whoever would do such a thing should be horse-whipped.”

“Um—”

Probably sensing her discomfort in talking about the past, Gray launched into a series of questions, which the older woman answered quite ably. Marissa sat and let them talk, content to listen.

“You must feel free to invite your own family to visit, Mrs. Biddle. Or take some time off. We can’t keep you isolated out here all the time.”

The parchment skin drooped, the blue eyes faded, glossed over with tears.

“I don’t have any family around here, dearie. My daughter was a widow. Army wife, you know. I was living with her and my grandson until they both died. Now I’m at a loose end. I have a son, but he won’t be visiting me, I’m afraid. In fact, I don’t see him often. He gets too upset. He’s in a home now.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I’d be glad to stay as long as you need my help. The fact is, you’d be doing me a favor. I just don’t know what to do with myself anymore.”

And she was probably short of money, if she’d been living with her daughter.

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Biddle. I didn’t know about your loss.” Marissa was ashamed of herself. She’d been whining about her terrible life, which included a darling son and a husband who clearly cared for her. It was a life that would soon be filled with so many things. This poor woman had lost everything most dear to her.

“Don’t you fret about it, honey. How could you know?” Mrs. Biddle shrugged. “A few months ago, after I’d spent a long time recovering from hip surgery, God seemed to tell me to come back to Blessing. I still have my little house, you see, even if it is rented. And at least one friend, Winifred Blessing. She suggested I stay with her, just until I got back on my feet. That didn’t take long. I’m perfectly well now.”

“I’m glad,” Marissa said, and meant it.

“Winifred won’t hear of me leaving. Says she likes the company. But when they found you, well, she was certain I could help. In a way, arriving out here today was a little like coming home.”

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