The Redemption of Micah

by Beth Williamson

  It still made him wish for her bossy, sassy voice to come bursting from her mouth.

  “It’s me, Mama.” She turned the knob and peered through a small opening in the door.

  “We brought some breakfast, Eppie. May we come in?” Micah found his palms sweaty and his heart slamming against his ribs again, as if he was taking a test—which he really was since she didn’t remember him. He hoped she approved of their offering.

  “I suppose.” Not an enthusiastic answer, but he could live with it.

  After he nodded at Miracle, she pushed the door open and ran in with the wildflowers out in front of her like a trophy.

  “Hi, my name’s Miracle. Brought you flowers!” She thrust them into Eppie’s face before Micah could stop her.

  “Oh, my.” Eppie was sitting in his chair, the purple dress hanging on her like a sack. She was half the size she’d been three years earlier and it made his heart ache for what she’d had to endure. Eppie had always been thin, but now she was almost emaciated.

  “They’re lovely.” She took the vase and held it at arm’s length and squinted at them. “I don’t remember their names.” Panic flashed across her features, but she shuttered it quickly and smiled at Miracle. “Thank you kindly.”

  Miracle turned to look at Micah. “She sound like you, Daddy.”

  So he wasn’t the only one to notice. He inwardly winced at the truthfulness of children—they never thought of other’s feelings or consequences. Life was so simple to them.

  “Scoot out of the way so I can set this tray on the side table.” Micah stepped fully in the room, breathing in Eppie’s scent, and felt an immediate calm settle over him. Even if she didn’t sound like herself, she was still there talking, breathing and living.

  “It smells delicious.” Eppie peeked at the biscuits. “I wasn’t hungry before, but those biscuits have riled my hunger.”

  She looked winded and a bit sweaty as if getting dressed had drained her. Likely it had, but he understood why she hadn’t called him even if he wished she had. Micah was still a stranger and no woman would ask a strange man for help to get her clothes on.

  “I was considering getting back into bed, but the chair is quite comfortable.” She gave him a wan smile and he read between her words.

  “Allow me.” He scooped her up, the flutter of her heart against his as she squeaked.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Bringing you back to bed.” He laid her down on the quilt, fluffing the pillows behind her. “I’ve been taking care of you for almost three years, Eppie, there’s nothing I haven’t done or wouldn’t do for you.”

  He couldn’t look her in the eye or he might embarrass himself by begging or something equally as stupid. Instead he went back to the table to retrieve the tray. By the time he turned around, he was more in control of himself and managed a smile.

  “I wasn’t sure what you might want to eat, so I brought only coffee and biscuits.” He fitted the tray onto her lap and handed her the napkin. “There’s some warm water in the pitcher.”

  She took it from him hesitantly, her eyes guarded. “What’s my full name?”

  Micah was so startled he didn’t answer her for a full minute. It was worse than he suspected. It wasn’t just him she didn’t remember, Eppie didn’t remember herself. Sweet Jesus.

  His mouth went cotton dry but he was finally able to find his voice. “I’d have to ask Madeline, but I believe it’s just Eppie. I don’t think I ever heard a last name.”

  Miracle was busy arranging the flowers and thankfully didn’t notice the exchange between them.

  “Who’s Madeline?”

  “Madeline Brewster. She’s your best friend and one of my closest friends. This house used to be hers, but she deeded it to us after your accident.” He pointed to the food. “Why don’t you have something to eat and when you’re done, we can talk.” He inclined his head toward Miracle.

  “Of course, that sounds like a good idea. Thank you for the food.” She looked at Miracle. “And thank you again for the lovely flowers.”

  “Welcome.” Miracle stared up at her mother, still apparently trying to gauge who she was.

  “Go get dressed now, honey, and let Mama eat in peace.” He ushered his daughter out of the room, not daring himself to look back at Eppie. If he did, he might not be able to leave himself. “I’ll be back in a little bit to check on you.”

  The biscuits smelled heavenly and her mouth watered at the remembered taste. It was frustrating to know there were inane things she remembered without effort, but she couldn’t even think of her own name. She tried to focus to remember and the pain in her head roared at her.

  Leaning back against the pillows, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. After a few minutes she realized her life was nothing but blackness and the last twelve hours in this room. It was a pitiful excuse for a life if it was all she’d ever remember.

  Self-pity reared its ugly head, but she beat it back, with considerable effort. She put a bit of butter and jam on a biscuit and gingerly nibbled on it. After only a quarter of the biscuit, she felt full. No matter how good it tasted, if Micah was telling her the truth, she hadn’t had solid food in three years. The last thing she wanted was to make herself sick.

  The coffee was hot and strong, and she must’ve preferred it that way because she drank the entire cup. It helped her feel a bit stronger, definitely warmer. The dress told her she had been much bigger, either that or he gave her someone else’s clothes. Either way, she was very thin, too thin.

  Now what she wanted was to get cleaned up. However, she realized the tray prevented her from getting out of bed. It appeared she was stuck until Micah came back.

  As if she’d conjured him from her mind, there was a knock at the door.

  “Eppie, may I come in?”

  “Please do.” She found the long-haired man’s appearance to be less shocking. In fact, she could now see the kindness and concern behind his silver eyes. He gave her a quick smile when he opened the door wide and came into the room.

  “I’m glad you ate something.” He pointed to the tray. “And my coffee isn’t too bad?”

  She found her own smile tickling her lips, but she didn’t want to let it out just yet. Much as the man was being nice, she didn’t know him or herself well enough yet. “The coffee and biscuit was wonderful. Thank you for your kindness.”

  He waved his hand in dismissal. “No thanks are necessary. Are you finished?”

  At her nod, he took the tray away, freeing her lap, but she found herself not ready to move yet. What she really wanted to do is remember something, anything, aside from the fact she liked biscuits. When he turned to leave the room, she found herself asking him to stay.

  “Wait, please. I…can you stay for a few minutes?”

  The surprise on his face was only matched by the hope. “Absolutely, honey—I mean Eppie.” He fluttered around a bit, putting the tray on the floor by the door and arranging the chair by the bed. He smiled tremulously as he sat.

  “Tell me what you know about me.” She felt heat creeping into her cheeks, but she didn’t drop her gaze. Micah was her only link to who she was, who she was supposed to be.

  “You moved to town and met Madeline about five years ago. I think you were originally from North Carolina.” Micah settled back in the chair, his posture relaxing.

  She knew North Carolina by name, but try as she might, no picture came to mind. “Where are we now?”

  “Colorado, in a little town called Plum Creek, maybe fifty miles from Denver. That’s the capital.” He pointed to the window filled with bright sunshine. “It’s Monday morning, August sixteenth, eighteen seventy-five.”

  “Who owns this house?” The more information he gave her, the more she felt stupid and helpless, but she had to know.

  “I do. Madeline gave it to me right after the accident almost three years ago. Before that you lived here with her. You were friends, best friends.” He looked away as his throat moved.
“We’ve been here together since then.”

  She wished she remembered Madeline, her best friend, but nothing was familiar at all. “How old is the girl?”

  His face softened at the mention of the child. “She’s almost three. Her birthday is in a few months.”

  Apparently she could still do simple math, because by her estimate, if the girl was her daughter, she was born when Eppie was unconscious. Suspicion replaced panic.

  “And she’s my daughter?”

  “Actually, she’s our daughter.” His smile was crooked. “Once upon a time you and I loved each other, Eppie, and we were going to be married.” His eyebrow twitched when he said it, so he was lying about something.

  “And she was born when I was sleeping?” Her voice started to gain in volume.

  He seemed to realize she was getting angry, and his posture was suddenly ramrod straight. “It’s called a coma, a type of very deep sleep while a body heals. I don’t know the exact medical particulars, but you’d been hurt and it took a long time to heal.”

  “I gave birth in this coma?” She was sitting on the edge of the bed, full of enough energy to stand.

  “Yes, you did, with help, of course. The doctor practically lived here the last two months of the pregnancy. He was the best money could buy, all the way from St. Louis.” Micah stood, stepping behind the chair using it like a shield.

  He’d better hide if he was lying to her.

  “Who paid?” she nearly snarled as she stood, her head banging like a drum while her legs shook beneath her.

  “Madeline paid for everything. She loved you, loves you, just as I do. Sweetheart I—”

  “Don’t think for a minute that I believe everything you’re telling me. I’m not a fool to be toyed with. It’s going to take more than your explanations to convince me of what’s happened. For all I know we’re not even in Colorado.” She pointed at the door. “I appreciate your kindness, Mr. Spalding, but until I see proof of your cockamamie story, I’m reserving judgment on exactly what’s going on.”

  His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as she spoke. When she finished her diatribe, he shook his head and sadness crept back into his eyes.

  “I see your fire in there still, a bossy, sassy woman who’s been sleeping for so long.” He turned toward the door. “No matter how much you don’t believe, I believe enough for both of us.” When he reached the tray, he picked it up but didn’t look at her again. “I just hope I have enough love for both of us.”

  His words sent a chill up her spine and she sat back on the bed, breathing as if she’d run a country mile. She didn’t know up from down, but she did know that man believed everything he said. That fact scared her more than anything.

  Micah held himself together by force of will. It was either that or break into a thousand pieces in front of his daughter. As he closed Eppie’s door, she stood five feet away, her red-haired dolly clutched in her hands, fear and confusion in her gaze.

  “Mama mad?”

  “Yes, honey, Mama’s mad. She’s confused and unsure of what’s going on. We’re going to have to give her time to get to know us, remember?” He walked down the stairs with Miracle at his heels.

  Unfortunately for Micah, he forgot about the water she’d dropped and his shoes found the biggest puddle. As his feet went out from under him, all he could think of was, please God don’t let her lose both parents.

  Chapter Three

  Eppie had just gotten herself settled in the chair when she heard the crash and the girl screaming. She jumped up with more energy than she thought she had and darted out the door. The sheer size of the house made her eyes goggle and she wondered if he’d been telling more truth than she realized.

  She spotted him at the bottom of the steps, the tray of food scattered around him. The girl sat beside him smacking his cheek.

  “Daddy, wake up.”

  Eppie made her way down the stairs, clutching the thick mahogany banister. When she made it to the bottom, the little girl looked up at her with tears in her eyes.

  “Daddy sleep?”

  “I’m not sure, honey.” Eppie’s fear was that he’d died before she figured out if he was telling the truth, or worse, that he was truthful and didn’t get a chance to tell her everything about herself. She’d be trapped in a house she didn’t know with a child she didn’t know in a town that was as unfamiliar as the people around her.

  She knelt down and put her hand on his chest, and felt the steady beat of his heart. A breath of relief whooshed out of her. He must have just knocked himself unconscious when he fell. She didn’t think she knew much about being a doctor, but she did feel for any broken bones and was glad to find none.

  “He bumped his head and went to sleep.”

  Instead of reassuring the girl, she started screaming and shaking Micah by the shoulders. “No, Daddy, wake up!”

  Eppie didn’t know what to do to calm the girl down. Her reaction made no sense.

  “He’ll wake up in a minute or two. Why don’t you get a pillow for his head?”

  The girl sobbed even louder, but she nodded her head and stuck her doll under his neck. The sight made Eppie want to laugh, but she swallowed the chuckle. She started picking up the broken plate and the pieces of biscuits. Without being asked, Miracle helped clean up even as she continued to cry.

  Eppie didn’t know if that was common for her, but she knew it was unusual for a girl that age to have such a sense of responsibility. After they’d picked up the mess, Micah still hadn’t roused. Eppie wasn’t really worried, but she was getting concerned.

  “Where is the kitchen?”

  The girl pointed to room down the hall.

  “Can you go get a glass of water for your daddy?”

  “Why?” Precocious little thing.

  “To help him wake up.”

  The child looked at her as if she’d sprouted horns, but went to the kitchen just the same, frowning fiercely and crying all the way. It gave Eppie an opportunity to study Micah up close without feeling self-conscious about it. She could see the resemblance between him and the girl, a glimmer of his cheekbones and chin. The hair, of course, was identical.

  He had a terrible scar that ran from his jawline down his neck. It was deep and made by something sharp. He had a whisper of whiskers on his cheeks, and shadows permanently etched below his eyes. There were very light brown baby hairs around his hairline. Without even thinking about it, she reached out to brush the hair from his forehead.

  “Don’t touch.”

  Miracle’s stern admonishment made her heart skip a beat. Eppie turned around and managed a small smile.

  “I was making sure he was okay.”

  The doubtful expression didn’t leave Miracle’s little face. She thrust the cup of water forward, splashing some on both of them.

  “Thank you, Miracle.” Eppie’s stomach was jumping around like crazy, but she put her hand behind his neck and trickled water into his mouth. He swallowed, thankfully, then he sighed, the smell of lemon tickling her nose.

  His eyelashes fluttered and her relief knew no bounds when those silver orbs peeped up at her.

  “Eppie?”

  “You fell down the stairs and knocked yourself silly.” She set the glass down and let his head back down onto the doll.

  “I did? Oh damn, the water, I forgot.” His eyes widened. “Is Miracle okay?”

  “She’s fine. A little upset.” An understatement, but she didn’t want to scare him.

  “I here, Daddy.” She inserted herself between them. The warmth of her little body seeped into Eppie’s. It startled her and she shifted back to escape from the sensation. She definitely wasn’t ready to be physically close to anyone, much less a child calling her “Mama.”

  “Thank God.” Micah took Eppie’s hand in his. “You have my gratitude.”

  She wanted to snatch her hand away, but at the same time, his dry slender hand felt comfortable in hers. A shiver ran up her spine at the thought.

 
; “It’s not hard to be kind to people in need.” She managed to extract her hand and sat back on the step above him. “Do you think you can get up?”

  He frowned and shifted, wincing as he did. “I think so, but it’s going to take me a few minutes. I think I bruised my back.”

  Although she didn’t want to touch him, she helped him to his feet. Even if her head and her heart didn’t remember him, it appeared her body did. She wasn’t sure if it was just being close, his scent, or something else entirely. Whatever it was, as soon as her arm went around his waist, her body warmed to his and heat flowed between them.

  To her astonishment, her nipples even hardened. She hoped to God he didn’t feel those against his side. She’d be absolutely mortified if he did. It was hard enough to forget everybody she knew, but to have no control over her body made it even worse.

  “I help.” Miracle jumped around to the other side of her father and together they steadied him.

  “Where is your room?”

  “Upstairs next to Miracle’s. It’s the largest room in the house and Madeline insisted on me taking it.” He smiled sadly. “I think perhaps she thought you and I might use it together.”

  Eppie wanted to let him fall on his head for trying to manipulate her. He had to understand she didn’t forget him on purpose. She’d give anything to remember one shred of who she was. If he kept pushing her, eventually she would shut the door on any possibility of a relationship with him. One thing she did know about herself was she didn’t like to be forced into decisions.

  She’d been doing a lot of thinking since she’d woken up. There were a lot of decisions to make and she wasn’t done making them. Micah would just have to be patient.

  Somehow they made it up the stairs and none of them fell back down. Micah straightened and took hold of the banister and Eppie let him go. Her body yelled at her to grab him again, but she listened to her head instead and crossed her arms, stepping away.

  “Thank you.” He took a shaky breath. “I’ll be okay. I’m going to splash some water on my face.” He laughed. “Although I might have had enough water for the day.”