by Deb Kastner
“Tanner?”
“Hmm?” He turned and wiped his hands on a dish towel.
“You don’t have to try so hard. You’re spoiling me rotten, when you’ve got your own work to do. You don’t have to hover over me. I’ll be fine.”
His throat clenched. Was that what she thought he was doing? Hovering over her?
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be annoying.”
“Oh, there’s nothing to apologize for. I’m just afraid I’m taking you away from what you need to be doing. You do important work around here. Not that I won’t gladly eat that delicious French toast you’re cooking up for us. It smells delightful.”
“I’m not hovering because I don’t trust you,” he tried to explain.
“What is it, then? Are you afraid I’ll get myself into a pickle with my Swiss-cheese brain?”
He laughed. “You don’t have to have amnesia to do that. You were always the one to feel for the underdog. You got yourself into more trouble trying to help. People, animals—it didn’t matter. You follow your heart. That was one of the things that most drew me to you when we were first dating.”
His face heated as their eyes met and locked. She was searching for something in his gaze. But what?
“Can I be honest?” she asked.
“Always.”
“Yesterday, at church? I felt like we were a couple. There was more than that, of course. I owe you big-time. I would never have gotten through all those introductions and everyone’s reminders of the things I’d done in my past had you not been there with me. But it was more than that. I felt...connected to you.”
His throat constricted even more and he fought for a breath. He blinked against the haze in his eyes, refusing to call them what they were.
Tears.
Because he felt the same way.
He was falling in love with his wife in a brand-new way.
He nodded. “I know what you mean. I—feel the same way.”
“We have to tread carefully if we want to try to work on the possibility of building a new relationship. I don’t know about you, but the whole thing frightens me to death. I don’t know what is going to happen where my memory is concerned. It could come back in bits and pieces, or I might remember everything all at once. I can’t imagine anything more overwhelming.”
Tanner was gutted. She had no idea just how overwhelming her memories would be—but he had no doubt they would change everything.
It might be better for him to put a stop to this here and now.
Tanner placed the platters of French toast, scrambled eggs and bacon on the table and sat down opposite Rebecca. It wouldn’t be long before the smell of bacon brought Mackenzie running, and Peggy would be along soon afterward.
He reached his hand across the table and took Rebecca’s.
“This is uncharted territory,” he admitted. “But I want you to know that no matter what has happened to us in our past, my love for you never wavered. Not even when we were having problems. Not even when we were—” He had trouble pushing the word across his lips. “Separated.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Rebecca admitted. “I’m sure I was in love with you. I know I was. Honestly, I can’t imagine anything that would cause me to run away like that, to ignore my wedding vows to you. What happened, Tanner?”
His heart dropped straight into his already mangled gut. He broke his gaze away from her, let go of her hand and threaded his fingers through his hair. This was the moment he had dreaded since the second Rebecca had returned to his life.
Because he knew why she’d left.
“Oh, Lord, guide me,” he whispered.
What was he supposed to do now?
Their relationship was developing, their feelings for each other growing stronger with every day that passed and with all the time they were spending together.
Why couldn’t they just move forward the way things were currently?
But he already knew the answer to his own question.
With the amnesia still a barrier between them, their relationship was incomplete. A couple grew together—or further apart—because of what they went through together as they faced life as one. Even though Rebecca couldn’t remember the years they spent together, he could. And that was a ravine that couldn’t be crossed. Not until she regained her memory.
And when that happened, when she knew the chasm that lay between them, only God knew where they would go from there.
But their history together, even the bad parts—was what made their relationship genuine and long-lasting.
He hated this. By not saying anything, he was living a lie.
He studied her, wondering what, if anything, he should say.
How did he tell the woman he loved more than life itself that after three years of infertility, she had gotten pregnant, and had carried their precious baby nearly to term, only to have their joy turn to anguish when the baby was stillborn?
How did he explain holding their unbreathing infant daughter in their arms, their hearts crushed beyond measure?
Rebecca had the right to know the truth, but was she strong enough to hear it? With her amnesia still plaguing her, would it even do any good to tell her the whole story? Or would it just cause her unnecessary pain?
It was only recently that he’d been able to make peace with his wife and with God.
And the next words out of his mouth might ruin everything.
* * *
Rebecca tensed, sensing Tanner was going to rock her world, and not in a good way. His expression was one of sheer agony, and he didn’t even try to bother to wipe the tears from his eyes.
Whatever was wrong had broken their marriage apart then, and she was terrified it would do so again.
And he wasn’t the only one who had some sharing to do. She hadn’t yet admitted that many of her memories were returning. At this point it was just small bits and pieces, and most of them were out of context, but they were significant enough that she felt Tanner should know about them.
Last night as she’d lay curled on her bed staring at their wedding picture, flashes of memories—at least, she thought they were memories—assaulted not only her brain, but all of her senses. She could feel her love for Tanner, her excitement about their lives to come. She even remembered the scent of the woodsy cologne he was wearing that day.
In her mind’s eye, she saw the look on Tanner’s face as her father lifted her veil, kissed her cheek and then presented her to Tanner, placing her in his care. Tears had flooded down her face. Tears of happiness and joy at having found the love of her life.
Tears of sorrow that her father had passed and she couldn’t remember.
But there was more—and these memories weren’t quite as clear or forthcoming. Her heart and mind strained to understand what she was feeling. Grueling emotions of heartbreak and bitterness. A loss so deep there was nothing but a gaping hole where her heart used to be. Pain so intense it bit right through her like frostbite.
Yet that part of her existence was nothing more than feelings, vague emotions which, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t attach to anything she knew about herself. She searched her mind but found nothing concrete.
No memories. Just feelings.
Her life here, now, was so full of joy and happiness. She had a family. Tanner doted on her. The feelings budding in her heart for her husband were tangible and authentic—the total opposite of the way things must have been between them for her to abandon him and leave.
She needed Tanner to fill in the gap between what she knew and felt and what had actually happened between them.
“Please,” she practically begged. “Tell me what happened to me—to us.”
He cleared his throat. “Rebecca, I—I don’t even know where to begin.”
“The beginning?” she suggested. “The o
nly way we are going to get through this is if we are 100 percent honest with each other.”
“I agree.” He clenched his jaw so tightly Rebecca could see the pulse beating in the corner.
He took a fortifying sip of his coffee. “Okay, then. We were young when we married and completely in love with each other, but though we were mature for our age, we were, frankly, more than a little naive about how our lives were going to go. We only saw the good stuff. I suppose we talked about what life would look like when we faced challenges, but we were so in love I think we believed love itself would conquer all wrongs.”
“If only,” Rebecca murmured.
Tanner nodded. “We wanted to start a family right away, right after our honeymoon was over. Even that seems crazy now—we planned to have five or six kids and figured we ought to get right on it.”
“Five or six?” Rebecca echoed, stunned.
One side of Tanner’s lips lifted into a half smile. “I know. Crazy, right?”
“That’s one word for it.”
“The thing is, it didn’t happen. We were surprised when the months came and went and still no baby. It seemed so easy for other couples. They decided they wanted to get pregnant and it happened for them right away. We had always assumed it would be the same for us. We had no idea just how difficult it could be—or how much it would affect our relationship.”
He took a sip of his coffee. “The first year or so, we weren’t overly worried about it when you didn’t get pregnant. We had other things on our minds, trying to adjust as a married couple. We were busy figuring out what married life would look like for us—what life in general would look like, really. We’d just bought the ranch and I spent every waking hour working to get it up and running. You’d taken a position teaching advanced math at the middle school. Given our frantic lives, we just assumed it might take some time before we got pregnant. We trusted God for His perfect timing.
“Which was easy, at first. We enjoyed being together as a couple and our marriage hadn’t yet been hit by any of life’s unexpected tornadoes. Everything was perfect between us.”
Rebecca raised her eyebrows. “Perfect? You really thought our lives were perfect?”
His throat tightened. “Why? Didn’t you?”
“You know I can’t answer that question. But nothing is perfect. Not in real life. And clearly things went south between us at some point. I can’t imagine that we just woke up one morning and bam, everything was wrong and I could no longer stay here with you. For me to believe separation, even a temporary one, was the only answer—there must be a much bigger explanation for that.”
Tanner just shrugged.
“Surely we fought sometimes, worried about how we’d make ends meet, that sort of thing. Bickering, at least. I know I’m not perfect in that regard.”
He threaded his fingers through his hair. “Well, sure. We occasionally sniped at each other when we got overtired, just like any other normal young married couple. But not a lot, and we always made up with each other before the sun went down on our anger. That was one of our relationship rules.”
“That makes sense, since it’s in the Bible. Tell me—how did that work out in practice?”
“We allowed each other to leave the room to cool off and get our heads together. Then we always came back and talked our problems through, no matter how big or small the matter was. We always worked it out right away.”
“You said we had guidelines. What were the other ones?” she asked curiously.
“To love and respect each other—always. I’m the first one to admit I wasn’t always good at that. I tend to back off when I should be stepping up. It’s always been an issue for me. It’s easy to lose myself in the ranch when I should be manning up and facing my issues.”
“And yet I’m the one who left.”
Tanner grunted in assent. “Yes. But I didn’t appreciate you as much as I should have—or at least, I didn’t vocalize my appreciation. So it’s not all on you.”
“Was there anything else?” she asked. “Any other special promises we made to each other when we got married?”
“Only one. We made a rule never to use the word divorce. Not even joking, and especially not when we were angry with each other. For us, divorce was not an option, so why even put it out there?”
“That’s sensible.” Rebecca had thought she sensed bitterness lining Tanner’s tone when this conversation had started. Now she knew for sure he was hurting. And it killed her that she was the one who’d broken his heart.
But there was one more thing she had to know, even though it would very much be throwing fuel on the fire.
“Once the D-word is out there, you can’t take it back, even if you don’t really mean it,” she said softly. “So did I?”
Tanner’s blond eyebrows lowered over his eyes, which had darkened to the color of twilight. “Did you what?”
It was time to put it out there, the question she’d been mulling over ever since she’d arrived in Serendipity.
“Tell you I wanted a divorce?”
He looked away from her and crossed his arms, his breath coming heavy. He didn’t say anything for the longest time. Finally, he switched his gaze back to her, his jaw tight with strain.
“No.”
She let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. So she hadn’t asked Tanner for a divorce.
Thank God. Oh, thank God for that small mercy.
“And yet I left.”
He nodded.
“I broke our rule not to let the sun go down on our anger.”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. That ship had sailed months ago. By the time we separated, we weren’t even talking to each other.”
“So that’s why I left, then? Because we weren’t talking?”
He shrugged and shook his head violently. “How should I know? I came in from work one evening and you were gone. You didn’t even leave a note. I had no idea where you went. I tried calling but you’d turned off your phone. I had the whole town looking for you.”
“That seems so...not like me,” Rebecca murmured. “Why wouldn’t I leave a note to tell you where I’d gone? If nothing else, in case of emergency.”
Could she really have done this to Tanner? What kind of woman was she?
She had to wonder.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But you weren’t quite yourself at the time. You’d sunk into a deep depression because—”
“Uncle Tanner!” Mackenzie exclaimed, bolting into the room at the speed of light and launching herself onto Tanner’s back, then squeezing her arms around his neck until he looked as if she was choking him.
His expression immediately changed to one of joy and happiness as he stood and gently took her hands in his to save his air pipe, adjusting her grip so he could breathe.
“Be my horsey, Uncle Tanner,” Mackenzie demanded, wiggling closer to him and wrapping her legs around his waist. “Giddyap, horsey!”
To the preschooler’s delight, Tanner snorted and whinnied and then took off at a gallop around the house.
Rebecca’s heart was racing as fast as Tanner’s legs. He was so good with Mackenzie. She could easily imagine him with their son. Tanner was born to be a father.
But there was still something serious in their relationship which had yet to be repaired.
What had he been about to say?
She couldn’t even begin to guess. But the moment had been broken, and who knew when they’d find the right moment to be able to have such a serious discussion again.
Maybe her memories would return on their own.
Only now, she wasn’t sure she wanted them to.
Chapter Nine
Making sure he had a good hold on the little girl, Tanner bucked and snorted and trotted all around the house. He loved playing horsey with Mackenzie. Her
delighted laughs and squeals made his day. He was glad he could do something to bring the little girl joy when she’d been through so much sorrow. No child should have to be without their mommy, as he well knew.
Now that he thought about it, it was about time for Mackenzie to learn how to ride a real horsey. Rebecca, too, once she’d given birth. She’d expressed to him on more than one occasion that she couldn’t wait to be able to explore the ranch on horseback.
Although riding lessons might not even be necessary in Rebecca’s case. She might very well remember how to ride Calypso without any prompting on his part. She’d been an expert rider before her accident. It was one of those weird Swiss-cheese situations he didn’t really understand and couldn’t begin to second-guess. She remembered how to do things like drive or cook or do upper-level math equations, but couldn’t remember her own husband’s face—nor why they’d broken up.
Their conversation this morning had gone well into the deep territory he’d hoped it would, but they had been interrupted before Tanner had gotten to the worst part—the truth that might send Rebecca running for a second time.
He snorted and whinnied and headed back for the kitchen so Mackenzie could eat her breakfast, but before he reached the alcove where the kitchen table was located, the doorbell rang.
Frowning, he twisted Mackenzie around to his front side and plopped her into a kitchen chair.
“Expecting anyone?” he asked, glancing from Peggy to Rebecca.
Both ladies shook their heads.
“Hmm. Me, neither.”
He strode toward the door in consternation. Maybe it was a neighbor or one of Rebecca’s old friends come to call.
“Ms. Goodwin,” Tanner said in surprise as he opened the door a crack. It was Mackenzie’s social worker, and she hadn’t called ahead.
Tanner was immediately worried. What had Lydia done now? Or was the woman here to see how he was faring with Mackenzie?
He widened the door so the diminutive yet poised woman could pass by. “Please, come on in.”
“It’s Terri,” she corrected him, and then, upon seeing the rest of the family in the kitchen alcove, said, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt your breakfast.”
