He nodded with a sad sniffle.
"Well, think how proud you'll be if you climb down all by yourself."
"I'm going to fall."
"No, you won't. I'll be right here." She held out her hands again. "I'll catch you. You won't get hurt. I promise."
"Are you sure?"
"Do I ever break a promise?"
He shook his head.
"Exactly. Now, climb to that branch," she pointed to the one she meant. The little boy rubbed his face dry of his tears, then complied. He managed to get down two more branches when he slipped again.
"Aunt Anne!"
"It's okay!" She stood directly below him, less than five feet now. "Just drop. I'll catch you."
"I can't see!"
"You're going to be fine! Just drop!"
He whimpered for a moment.
"It's going to be okay. I promise."
"Okay—"
"Wait!" A deep voice bellowed. Anne turned toward the sound. Unfortunately, Charlie dropped at the same time. Pain exploded as he landed on her shoulder, but the only thought in her head was to protect the child. She swept an arm around the boy and twisted her body so she'd land with him on top of her. Gnarly branches and stubby stones greeted her body as she landed on the leaf-covered ground, and pain ignited all along her side, battling the pain coming from her shoulder. She lay there for a long second, her thoughts and breath scattered. Was anything broken? She'd never broken a bone in her life, but she'd guess the pain would be far more extreme than what she felt right now. At least, she hoped so. And what about little Charlie? He lay on top of her body, unmoving. Was he okay?
He answered that himself by tumbling off her body and landing on crunchy leaves.
"Aunt Anne?" He poked her shoulder. She flicked her eyes open to find little Charlie's worried eyes on her, his mouth pulled into a scared frown. She twitched a smile at him and gathered the nerve to move. She'd read somewhere that one shouldn't move after a bad fall, but since she could feel pain all over, she doubted she'd broken her neck or spine.
"Are you okay?" that earlier deep voice asked, much closer. Too close. In fact, he was probably right behind her. And if that voice didn't belong to Charles—
She sat up, ignoring the pain, and found a man with obviously long legs crouching beside her, one hand outstretched as if about to lift her up, his face full of confusion and concern. Her eyes met his and she froze. The voice might be different—lower, more confident—and his face might be longer, more mature, but his eyes hadn't changed. Not one speck.
Rick.
Chapter 10
"Aunt Anne!" Charlie cried, jumping on her. "You're okay!"
She hissed in pain but wrapped her arms around the boy. "Yes, I'm okay." She smiled, hoping it didn't reveal the pain. Nothing seemed broken, but she certainly was going to have a lot of bruises. Rick still crouched beside her and she was about to risk glancing at him when another deep voice shattered the air.
"Charlie!" This time, that was a voice she recognized. She turned to see Charles running toward them, his face a mixture of worry and surprise.
Charlie immediately jumped out of Anne's arms. "Daddy!" The boy ran for his father and Anne darted a glance at Rick. His eyes were on Charles, giving her a perfect profile of his face. Dappled sunlight flitted through the leaves to highlight his defined jawbone, light up his dark hair, and enhance the fire in his brown eyes. Gorgeous. That was the only word to adequately describe him.
She quickly swept her hands over her hair. Leaves and branches were in them. Oh, what a mess she looked! And her clothing! Old jeans and a shirt that sagged—both splattered with paint when she'd attempted painting with the boys a few years back. Of all the scenarios she had imagined when meeting Rick again, this was the absolute worst.
Meanwhile, Charles had dropped to his knees and swept up his son. "Are you all right?"
Charlie nodded but then pointed at her. "Aunt Anne isn't."
Anne immediately waved her hands, well aware that Rick's attention was on her now. "I'm fine!" She ached to sneak a glance at Rick, to see if he had recognized her or not, but her nerves were going nuts and her heart was racing so badly, she was sure he could hear it. Nor could she think of anything witty or cool to say and she was terrified if she tried, she'd only end up looking like some love-sick girl. Desperate, she focused on Charlie, wrapped in the arms of his father. "How's Charlie?"
"He seems fine," Charles said, walking toward them. "You look a mess, Anne."
Anne flushed, wishing he hadn't said the obvious. Not with Rick right there.
A hand suddenly came into her vision. Rick's hand.
"Here, I'll help you up," he said in that deep voice of his.
She hesitated. Half of her wanted to get up on her own, to prove she was perfectly fine and to salvage her pride. However, that might embarrass Charles who would fear she had offended his guest. At the same time, if she grabbed Rick's hand, she feared she'd never let go. After another second of dithering, she ended up grabbing his hand. A flurry of feelings rushed through as his warm hand encased hers, reigniting all her long, harbored feelings for him. Unfortunately, he hefted her up like she was nothing more than an old sack of rotting potatoes, then he tossed her hand aside the instant he could. It was like a slap in her face. He hadn't wanted to touch her but had only done so to be a gentleman.
"Thank you," she forced out, knowing it was the polite thing to say. But he focused on Charles.
"Your sister seems fine."
Anne wanted to sink into the earth. He hadn't recognized her. He assumed she was another of Charles' sisters instead of the girl he'd sworn to cherish eight years ago. She couldn't believe it. This was worse than blatantly ignoring her. To think he had shredded his memories of her so much, he couldn't recognize her when she was directly before him.
"Oh, she's my sister-in-law," Charles said with an apologetic grin as if embarrassed to have a sister such as Anne. She wanted to throw her hands into the air. Apparently, nobody wanted her around these days.
"Are you sure you're okay, Anne?" Charles asked as he eyed her unfitting, rumpled clothing. "You look terrible—"
"I'm fine." She wanted this over with, to be left alone so she could fill the hole where her heart used to be. "So," she gave a vague wave toward Rick, "how did Mr. Wentworth like your invention?" A change of topic to hopefully inspire their hasty departure.
Charles deposited his son to the ground, the latter protesting the treatment, and shot an apologetic smile at Rick. "He hasn't seen it yet. We were heading there when Mary came running down the hill, screaming that Charlie," he ruffled the boy's hair, "had fallen out of a tree."
"Well, he didn't fall," Anne stated, resisting the urge to start shooing the men away. "I caught him," she leaned down to Charlie's eye level, "Didn't I?"
He nodded with a big grin. "Just like you promised!"
Anne flushed, remembering another promise she had failed to keep—a promise to go wherever Rick went. To cover her embarrassment, she held out her hand to the boy. "We're all good here. You don't need to stay. We have a picnic to start, don't we, Charlie?" She smiled and wiggled her fingers. The boy edged toward her but his father held onto his son as if not sure he wanted his namesake out of his sight again.
But a shrill voice soon shattered any of that. "Charles!"
They turned to find Mary marching into the clearing with Walter on her hip; directly behind her followed Charles' two sisters, their faces flushed from the hard run up the hill. Both father and son froze, neither sure who Mary meant or what trouble would follow if one answered.
"Is he all right?" Mary cried, her eyes on Charlie, but the question obvious for the father.
"He's fine." Charles scooted the boy toward Anne. "Everyone is fine."
But Mary marched on. "Oh, I told him not to climb trees! I told him he'd fall. I told you he'd fall. I told everyone—"
"Yes, Mary, we know," Charles cut in, trying to calm his wife while his eyes nervously flicked
to Rick who, for some odd reason, still stood next to Anne. Why hadn't he fled from her side already?
"Come, Rick," Charles continued. "I'll show you the invention now." He strode past his wife without a glance, his shoulders and stance rigid like a soldier setting off to war.
Anne dared to sneak a glance at Rick, but his gaze was on Charles. He set after him like an obedient soldier, not once looking back at her or anyone else. Louisa, an eager smile on her lips, hopped to his side as if expecting to continue a fascinating conversation and Rietta tagged along as if not wanting to miss out on anything, leaving Anne alone with the boys and one very frustrated Mary.
"How dare he just walk off!" Mary began. "How dare they all walk off as if nothing terrible has happened!"
"Nothing did," Anne stated calmly and convinced Walter off Mary's hip and into her arms.
"My son fell out of a tree!"
"And he's perfectly fine." She herded the two nervous boys toward the blanket, wishing Mary had gone with the other adults. But that would be unfair to Charles who desperately wanted to impress Rick, something that would be hard to pull off with a whiny wife. "Come help us unpack the picnic."
"Anne! How can you be so calm about this? Why is no one understanding the seriousness of this situation? My son fell out of a tree! He could have died!"
"But he didn't and all is well." Anne gave Mary a comforting smile, hoping that would end the rant. But Mary insisted on venting, her anger not ebbing away until the picnic food had been spread out.
"It's too early to eat lunch," Mary declared, a handful of grapes in her hand, two already in her mouth. Anne knew that, but she needed a distraction for the boys, Mary and herself. Especially herself. The hole in her chest still ached and she badly wanted to dispel the pain with tears. Alas, she had to fake a calm smile while Mary sat with them, pretending that the love of her life hadn't just ripped her heart out a few minutes ago.
"Consider it a mid-morning snack, then." She handed out sandwiches to the two boys who eagerly tore into them.
"But I'm not hungry," Mary said, popping in three more grapes. She rose to her feet, a clutch of grapes still in her hand. "I'm going to see if that stuffy Wentworth fellow likes Charles' invention or not."
"You can find out later," Anne said but wasn't surprised when Mary ignored her and made her way out of the clearing. Nor could she say she was sad, though she did feel bad for Charles who would soon have to handle a grumpy Mary. But if the group would simply give Mary the attention she craved, she would brighten in an instant. Alas, Anne didn't see that happening anytime soon, not with Mr. Wentworth commandeering all the attention.
The memory of Louisa and Rietta revolving around him like he was their god reignited the ache in her heart. Neither did it help to recall all those years of pining for him, only to see within eight minutes how little she had crossed his mind in those eight years. It was mortifying to think the sun she'd been revolving around for years had been nothing more than a smoldering hallucination.
Tears pricked her eyes; she focused on the boys, making sure they had enough to eat. With all their running and climbing, they had built a sizable appetite despite the early hour. Still, they probably wouldn't be very hungry when lunch came around in an hour. She wondered if Rick would still be around then. And tried to convince herself she'd be glad if he was gone.
Once the boys devoured everything, they took off playing again. This time, Anne kept a close eye on them, having no desire to re-enact the earlier fiasco. As she cleaned up the picnic, however, she was surprised to hear her name called. She glanced up to find Mary venturing into the clearing again.
"The Wentworth fellow is staying for lunch and wants everyone to join him."
Anne caught her breath as if the world had stopped. He wanted her to join him? Or was it just a general thing? Was she reading too much into this? But why else would he want everyone to join them? Charles, for sure, would have tried to dissuade him to invite the boys along. No, Rick must have insisted the boys come as well. Perhaps because he knew she would come, too.
Hope rose within her. Maybe he hadn't forgotten as much as she had feared. Maybe during that moment of chaos, he had simply been flustered, like she. And now he would change everything with one look or a word.
Suddenly filled with energy, Anne cleaned up the picnic in record timing, even surprising Mary with her efficient manner.
"I don't want to keep Mr. Wentworth waiting," Anne said to cover her excitement. "He's a busy man."
"So, you do know him?"
Anne nearly dropped the picnic basket. "Wh-what do you mean?"
"Charles mentioned that the Wentworth fellow said he knew you."
Anne tried not to shout for joy. "He did?" She squeaked out instead.
"Yeah," Mary said, her eyes on the boys scampering in front of them. "And that you had changed so much, he hadn't recognized you at all. But I don't see how that could be true. You haven't changed one bit. Charlie!" She suddenly yelled, running after her oldest as he charged into the forest.
Anne's feet followed in their direction, but her mind was far elsewhere. He hadn't recognized her after all. She touched her face, wondering how much she had changed that she'd be so unrecognizable. He hadn't changed, though. Well, at least not for the worst. No, all his change had made him better, appearing more like that regal king she had seen in him. And this lunch invitation—it wasn't meant for her, was it? He must have done the inclusion only to be kind. A gesture of pity.
She suddenly no longer wanted to attend the lunch. She'd already eaten and so had the boys. She'd much rather take them on another hike or herd them inside to do a craft. Anything other than going into that house where the one man she'd loved for eight years struggled to remember her.
When they reached the bottom of the hill, Anne began her excuses, but Mary refused to accept any of them. She wasn't going to miss out on lunch, not with everyone being invited, and neither were her boys going to be exempted simply because they were children. It wasn't fair. And Anne had to come to make sure the boys were good since everyone knew they usually listened to her instead of their own mother.
Anne inwardly sighed. Of all the times Mary had to choose to be stubborn.
"Let me at least change my clothes," Anne said.
Mary wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, you should do that. They're all covered in dirt." She grabbed her boy's hands. "But hurry up. I'll need your help with them." She indicated the boys who already tugged on her arms, trying to pull her toward Grandma's house.
Anne nodded and hurried inside the cottage. Swinging the closet doors open of her closet, she surveyed her choice of outfits. She couldn't wear any of her real nice clothing since she'd be in charge of the boys and food would be involved. Not the best combo. However, none of the old, kid-friendly clothing would remind Rick of her worth. After more dithering, she settled on the oldest set of her nice clothes. Changing into them, she checked her appearance in the mirror only to discover her hair was an atrocious mess. It had fallen out of its bun and hung awkwardly behind her like a limp brown arm. And to think, this was how Rick had seen her. No wonder he had failed to recognize her! She quickly re-did the bun, then pulled some tendrils to frame her face, hoping to create a stunning look. Unfortunately, she didn't feel pretty at all. While she had managed to maintain her weight—thanks to her father's constant comments—her face hadn't survived eight years very well. Just look at the lines along her forehead. When did those move in?
She tried on a smile, but it didn't hide the sorrow in her eyes. How was it that he could improve with age, becoming more like that regal king who'd fiercely defend his people while she only worsened, turning into a tired, beggar girl, hoping for some crumbs from that regal king?
"Anne!" Mary's voice penetrated the walls of the cottage, reminding her she was procrastinating the inevitable. With a sigh, she headed to her doom. To her surprise, she found Charles had joined Mary and both were ignoring the boys tugging on their hands. She quickly took over t
he boys and followed their parents up the hill. Once they reached the front door of the renovated barn, she grasped her nephews' little hands and took a fortifying breath. This was it. With head held high, she walked in, daring Rick to declare he didn't know her again.
It was a wasted grand entrance. Everyone's attention was on Rick, surrounding him like he was a celebrity and they, the adoring fans. The boys tugged themselves loose from her slackened grasp and bounded into the room, causing everyone's attention to swivel to them, including Rick's. Charles did the introductions and Mary began to be grumpy Mary, but Rick abruptly paid her a compliment, which transformed her at once. She beamed at him, glad someone finally gave her the attention she craved. Ironic that Anne stood behind her, begging for the same attention, but trying to pretend she couldn't care less.
"And this," Charles began, waving a hand at her, "is Anne, but I think you've already met?"
Rick's eyes finally fell on her. Those same eyes that once lit up every time he saw her, turned cold and empty. "Yes, we've met."
And that was her sentence. He turned to his adoring fans and resumed the activity that had been interrupted by the boys' entrance. Anne stood still, the world crashing in. She wanted to flee out of the house and cry somewhere far away, but she could see Mrs. Musgrove already beckoning her to help with the boys. Though her world had ended, everyone else's hadn't. Putting on a brave smile, she herded the boys toward the kid table and noticed, with dismay, an adult plate was also set. She glanced at the main table, quickly counting the places. Sure enough, one adult plate was missing. She shot a glance at Charles and Mary, hoping against hope that they might, for once in their lives, notice her dilemma and eat with their boys instead of making her do it. Yes, she had always done it before, but this time was different. Rick was here. She couldn't sit alone at the kid table with him present. It would be humiliating!
"Lunch is ready!" Mr. Musgrove called. Anne watched Charles and Mary, hoping one would look her way and be inspired to take her place. But none glanced her away. Not even Louisa, Rietta, or their parents. Everyone's attention was on Rick. She was forgotten. A sister-in-law who didn't fit in.
Persuading Him: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 1) Page 8
