by Emily March
Her husband didn’t have a clue who she was.
Caroline turned on her heels and fled the Easterwood Memory Care Center where Robert Carruthers had been living for the past four months. Most days when she visited, she could look beyond her own heartache and be thankful that he was comfortable and happy, but she simply didn’t have it in her today.
She missed him so much.
Tears blurred her eyes as she signaled the attendant at the door to release the lock so she could leave the building. It was a blustery spring morning with temperatures in the mid-seventies and thunderstorms forecasted later in the day.
Lost in her own misery, she narrowly avoided bumping into a silver-haired woman who rounded the corner of the sidewalk. “Excuse me,” Caroline said, dodging out of the way at the last minute.
The woman looked at her with cloudy blue eyes. “I’m sorry. My fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I just … I don’t feel well. I … oh.” The woman swayed, and then her eyes rolled up and her knees gave out and she started to collapse at Caroline’s feet.
Caroline gave a horrified gasp and lunged for the older woman, managing to catch her below the shoulders and ease her to the ground. “Ma’am? Ma’am?”
Was this a heart attack? A stroke?
Caroline touched the woman’s face. She feels warm.
Caroline gazed around quickly. Had anyone noticed? Was help already on the way? She needed her purse … her phone … to call 911. She’d dropped it when she’d grabbed for the lady. There. It had fallen just beyond reach. “Ma’am?” she repeated as she reached for her bag.
The woman’s eyes opened. Brilliant blue, but cloudy. She blinked rapidly, repeatedly, and struggled to sit up. “Oh, dear,” she said, her voice weak. “I’m so sorry. I got a little dizzy.”
“Careful. Hold on. Why don’t you stay down? Let me get help.”
“No, no, no. Not necessary. I know what the problem is.” Her smile was wan, but reassuring. “You need not be concerned that I’ve exposed you to something vile, my dear. I suffer from a recurring fever—Lyme disease—and I suspect I’m having a bit of a flare. I just need to get back on my feet, and then I’ll find a shady spot and sit a spell. I could probably use a glass of water. Dehydration can be a problem in the elderly, you know.”
Caroline took the older woman’s hands and gently levered her up. She gasped in pain.
Immediately, Caroline supported the woman’s weight. “You’re hurt.”
“My ankle, I’m afraid.”
“Is it broken? Let’s set you back down. I’ll call nine-one-one.”
“No, no, no. It’s not broken. Just a little tender. I fell on it wrong. I think if I get ice on it for a few minutes, I’ll be fine.”
“Still, let’s sit you back down. I’ll run inside and get a wheelchair.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no. A wheelchair isn’t necessary. I can walk. I see a bench over there beneath that lovely magnolia tree. Perhaps you can help me over there?”
“But ma’am—”
“Celeste. I’m Celeste. Celeste Blessing.” She patted Caroline’s hand and asked, “What’s your name, dear?”
“Caroline.”
“Caroline, have you noticed how life has a way of knocking one’s feet out from underneath one?”
What? She couldn’t help but give a little laugh as the vision of her husband and his new love flashed in her mind. “Oh, yes. Yes I have.”
“Well, if you’ll indulge a bit of advice from someone who has, shall we say, extended experience in the area of life, sometimes getting mobile again does require a wheelchair. Sometimes climbing in and letting someone else take charge is exactly the proper response. You just have to sit back and roll with it.”
“Okay.” Caroline wanted to insist that now must surely be one of those moments. What do I know? I must be forty years younger than her.
Celeste leaned heavily on Caroline and hobbled forward toward the bench she’d pointed out. “Now, other times, it’s possible you can lean on someone and limp along. That’s okay. Sometimes that’s the way it’s gotta be. Life throws injuries at you that flat-out hurt, and the support of family and friends is exactly what you need to enable you to take those necessary steps forward.”
“Lean on me as much as you need, Ms. Blessing.”
“Call me Celeste, dear. Please. And before we go any farther, may I trouble you to pick up my bag for me?”
Now Caroline finally noticed the tote on the ground and the small bottles and bars of soap that had spilled from it. “I’ll come back for it.”
“No, no, no. I can stand by myself. I practice diligently.” She gave Caroline’s arm a little squeeze that summoned her attention. The blue eyes that had been hazy moments before now appeared clear and crisp as a winter morning as she directly met Caroline’s gaze and said, “You see, dear, sometimes wheelchairs and leaning on others aren’t the right solutions. Sometimes when life knocks you down, the best thing you can do for yourself is to stand on your own.”
Caroline flinched and drew back.
“Because, when you stand on your own, you stand tallest. When you’re standing tall with your chin up, you see your future, and your future sees you.” Celeste gave Caroline’s arm a second squeeze, then released it, encouraged her with a warm, friendly smile, and then made a shooing motion with her hand toward the spilled tote.
Oh, jeez. The way my luck is running today, she’ll tumble again the moment I’m out of arms reach. Caroline dashed for the bag, bent and scooped the contents back into it, then rushed back to Celeste. She didn’t relax until she’d once again taken hold of the older woman’s elbow. “That soap smells wonderful.”
“Isn’t it fabulous? It’s handmade by a friend of mine. Heavenscents Soaps. We were exhibiting her products at the trade show of the innkeepers’ conference at the hotel down the street. It ended at noon. We like to donate our leftover samples to nursing homes at the end of the event. I saw this memory care facility and thought it would be a good choice.”
“That’s a lovely thought. I’m sure they’ll appreciate them.” Caroline looked closely at the woman. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes had gone hazy again. Bet she is feverish.
“I’m so sorry to cause all this trouble.”
“No trouble.”
“Sure, I’m trouble. But don’t worry, Caroline. When I’m involved, everything always turns out fine in the end. Oh, my. I am hot. Distract me, dear. Tell me about yourself. You live in Austin?”
“I do.”
“It’s a lovely city. I live in Colorado now, and I make regular visits to the Dallas/Fort Worth area, but this is my first visit to Austin in years and years. I’ve enjoyed my stay so much. People have been so kind.”
“I’m glad we gave a good impression.” Having finally reached the bench, Caroline settled Celeste and helped her prop her ankle up. “I’m going to run inside and get you some ice for your ankle.”
“Bless your heart. You’re so kind, Caroline. By the way, I do love your pearls. Such a classic look.”
“Thank you.” Caroline swallowed hard. “They were a gift from my husband.” For their first anniversary. She hurried up the front steps, buzzed the intercom, and once inside, made her way to the onsite medical office where she explained the situation to the nurse.
A few minutes later, while the nurse went outside, Caroline ducked into the community room to get Celeste something to drink. Robert was sitting on a sofa with his Gina, watching TV and holding hands. Caroline filled a paper cup with sweet tea and thought longingly of a gin martini.
It was her anniversary, after all.
She wiped new tears off her cheeks as she returned to the bench outside to find the nurse wrapping Celeste’s ankle with an ace bandage and saying, “… bring down the fever. I suggest you spend the rest of today in bed. Resting your ankle and keeping it elevated will make it happy, too.”
“Oh, dear.” Celeste sighed heavily. “I’m supposed to drive over to the Hill Country th
is afternoon.”
“That’s out of the question,” the nurse replied.
Celeste worriedly clicked her tongue. “This is frightfully inconvenient. I promised to help an industry colleague out of a bind and now I’m in one! We have appointments set up for tonight and tomorrow in Redemption—it’s a lovely little tourist town a couple hours west of here—to research an article for an industry publication that is due Monday morning. My colleague’s daughter went into early labor this morning, and I told her I’d take the meetings and write the article. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. What to do, what to do, what to do? This is going to inconvenience a lot of people.” Celeste looked hopefully from the nurse to Caroline. “Have either of you ever been to Redemption, Texas?”
“Not me,” said the nurse.
“I’m afraid not,” Caroline said.
“I’m told it’s a lovely little town.” Celeste folded her hands prayerfully. “I feel so terrible. They were counting on me. How can this problem be solved?” She lifted her gaze, met Caroline’s, and held it.
Caroline heard herself say, “I’ll do it.”
Celeste’s brows arched innocently. “Oh?”
“I’m a writer. It’s what I do for my job. I write travel articles. I could do this for you if you’d like.”
Celeste beamed and clapped her hands. “Oh, Caroline. That would be fabulous. Simply fabulous. Although, like I said, these meetings are today and tomorrow. Could you clear your schedule?”
Caroline thought of Robert and their wedding day and how he held Gina’s hand. “Celeste, this project could not come at a better time for me.”
The angel wing earrings dangling from Celeste’s ears sparkled in the dappled sunshine beneath the magnolia tree as she said, “In that case, what a fortuitous fever this is. God truly does work in mysterious ways. You just never know when leaning on a friend can change the course of one’s life, do you? And isn’t there such power in climbing back up onto your feet and standing tall and strong?”
Caroline didn’t know why a shiver ran down her spine at that moment, but it did. Fifteen minutes later when she left Easterwood Memory Care Center for a second time that day with a mission and a notepad filled with details, her spirit was lighter than it had been in months. As she climbed into her car, she blew a kiss toward the center. “Happy Anniversary, Robert. My love.”
Then Caroline drove home, packed a bag and headed west, leaving half of her heart behind.
Chapter Two
Jackson rode into Redemption on a Harley, feeling mean. He’d made the fourteen-plus hour trip from Nashville in a little less than twelve, traveling through the night, driving recklessly, half hoping he’d hit an oil spot and lose control. He wouldn’t consciously try to kill himself, but the idea held some appeal. He needed something to put an end to this hell.
As he passed the sign that read: REDEMPTION. CITY LIMIT. POP. 1373, he began watching the street signs for the turnoff to the bed and breakfast where his cousin had booked rooms for tonight. A B&B. The thought of that didn’t improve his mood at all. Hope it wasn’t all ruffles and cabbage roses. Jackson had stayed in too many hotels and motels to count over the years—it was part of the business—but he couldn’t recall ever staying at a B&B. He wasn’t the B&B type.
Apparently, Redemption was a B&B type of town. Founded by German immigrants in the mid-1840s, today the town had a thriving tourist industry. Visitors were attracted by its history and architecture and to the food and festivals that were heavily reflective of its heritage. In a state where chili cook-offs and barbecue festivals filled the culinary calendar, Wurstfest added a nice bit of variety.
Jackson had visited Redemption on two different occasions years ago. What he remembered most about those trips were the local pastries served in the breakfast bar at the motel where he’d stayed. Wonder if Boone’s B&B serves local pastries?
If not, he might have to scope out a bakery.
Spying the street sign that read Travis Avenue, he turned right and began watching for Erlösung Gästehaus. He’d promised to meet his cousin in the bar there at six thirty. A quick glance at his watch showed he’d made it to town with an hour and fifty minutes to spare, enough time to check in to his room and steal a nap before meeting Boone.
Jackson looked forward to seeing his cousin again. It had been too long. He’d have preferred that the reason for the meeting not been such a mystery, but this was typical Boone. The man kept secrets like nobody’s business.
Two blocks off the main drag through town, he spied his destination. With its crossed beams and dark shutters and window baskets full of flowers, the inn looked more like it belonged in an alpine village rather than the Texas Hill Country. Pulling into the drive, Jackson felt good about his chances for those Bavarian pastries, so he wasn’t feeling quite as mean when his gaze snagged on a sight as pretty as a Parker County peach—the woman approaching front porch steps of the stately B&B.
See that girl. The thought drifted through his mind and stuck. Like a lyric.
A lyric.
Jackson grew abruptly still. This was the way it used to happen for him. A thought or a phrase would ghost into his mind and hang around until he did something with it. Sometimes, words went so far as to don a pair of boots and start two-stepping across his brain, demanding a tune. But when his marriage started falling apart, the words and the tunes began to dry up. He hadn’t written anything better than decent since the divorce four years ago. However, since Sharon blew up his world eight months ago by proposing these ridiculous changes to their custody agreement, the only thoughts dancing through his head were plots of revenge.
But now … something. There was something there.
See that girl.
Jackson gave her a slow once-over. Slim, sleek, and sophisticated and a little out of place with her tailored blouse, pencil skirt, and three-inch heels. She wore her dark hair smoothed away from her face and tamed into a knot at the nape of her long neck. Big brown eyes. Cheekbones. What glorious cheekbones. Thin, patrician nose. Full lips.
See that girl. Skinny skirt. Red lipstick and a string of real pearls.
Whoa. What the heck was that? Emotion stirred inside him, something that felt a little too much like hope.
Hope? That he’d get his music back? At this point in his life why would he even care? What did it matter?
Maybe because you need something to get you through the next six months.
Getting his music back damn sure would be a gift, but Jackson wasn’t about to get his hopes up. As far as he could tell, hope’s only purpose was to set you up to get crushed.
The woman disappeared inside the inn, and Jackson released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Then, because it somehow seemed like the right thing to do, he pursed his lips and blew a soft, politically incorrect wolf whistle.
Minutes later, he sauntered toward the entrance of Erlösung Gästehaus, his mood just a bit more mellow, his step a little bit lighter, and possibly … just possibly … the beginning of a song in his heart.
* * *
Caroline smiled with delight as she followed the innkeeper into her room at Erlösung Gästehaus, the Yellow Rose suite. Decorated in a springtime pallet of green, yellow, and gold, the room was oversized with a fireplace, a sitting area, and a queen-sized four-poster bed. A peek into the attached private bath revealed a soaking bathtub and separate shower. “It’s lovely,” Caroline told her hostess.
“Be at ease,” the innkeeper replied. “We’ll be serving complimentary hors d’oeuvres and wine from our local vineyards at five in the parlor if you care to join us. Breakfast is served from seven to nine in the morning, though coffee and rolls are available twenty-four seven. Bobby will be right up with your bag and ice. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you.” Just as Caroline began to shut the door behind the innkeeper, she saw a young man start down the hallway carrying her suitcase and an ice bucket. After she closed the door behind him
a few minutes later, she opened the room’s French doors and stepped out onto a balcony that overlooked a flower garden bursting with blooms in a rainbow of colors. As a cacophony of birdsong floated to her ears and the perfume of roses drifted past her nose, Caroline closed her eyes and reached for peace. And reached. And reached.
A single tear escaped to roll slowly down her left cheek. Only one tear. Okay. You’re making progress, Caro.
Celeste Blessing’s voice echoed through her mind. When you stand on your own, you stand tallest.
“I’m trying.” Behind her, she heard her cell phone play her sister-in-law’s ringtone. For the briefest of moments, she considered ignoring it, but duty and love propelled her back inside to pick up her phone. Bracing herself, she said, “Hello.”
“Caroline, where are you? I called and called and called. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“I’m sorry. I forgot to put it on the charger last night. I didn’t realize it had died until a little while ago.”
“That’s so irresponsible. How typical of you.”
She closed her eyes. “What do you need, Elizabeth?”
“Nothing now. It’s your own fault that Robert was asking for you.”
Everything inside her stopped. “What?”
“Your husband was with us. He was asking for you.”
“He’s aware?”
“He was aware. He isn’t any longer. He’s gone again and you missed it. On your wedding anniversary at that!”
He’d come back. He’d come back and she’d missed it! A tidal wave of despair washed over Caroline. She’d missed him.
This did happen in occasional spurts, but it hadn’t happened in months. Not since before Valentine’s Day, and it had been almost a year since Robert had a full day of clarity where he’d recognized her and his sister and their friends. It had been the most joyous day, and for long afterward, she’d waited for it to repeat, but when so much time passed, she’d abandoned hope. “If you have nothing else for me, Elizabeth, I’m going to call Dr. Theimer.”
Her sister-in-law paused a moment, then said, “You reap what you sow, Caroline. If you had kept Robert home where he belonged, he wouldn’t have developed a fixation on that woman.”
