A Love for Rebecca

by Uceda, Mayte

  He went to a cupboard and took out two glasses and a bottle, then poured himself a little whisky and drank it. “What are you doing here, Rebecca?”

  It wasn’t the question that shook her. It was his tone, or lack of it. His voice had no inflection; it was apathetic and dry, calling to mind Mrs. Munro’s warning about his changed temperament.

  “Do I have to say it?” She followed him with her eyes, wishing he would say something.

  He moved slowly across the room. “Yes.”

  Rebecca didn’t want to beat around the bush, but she was having a hard time facing his rejection. She stared at the floor. “I came to see you. I . . . I found out . . . That is, I heard you’d married Mary, and . . .”

  “You found out it was over.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, looking up.

  Kenzie turned to the fire and threw on a log. He spoke with his back to her. “You’re well informed about my life.” He paused. “But then, I knew about yours too.”

  “What . . . what did you know?”

  “That you have a daughter; that you’re a teacher.” He looked at her now, an insinuating cast to his eyes. “And that you got divorced two years ago.”

  “You knew?”

  “You forget we have friends in common. You should’ve thought of that before coming all the way here. You could’ve figured out the answer on your own.”

  Rebecca stirred in the chair, trembling from a sudden chill. “What answer?”

  Kenzie hesitated, as if deep down he didn’t want to tell her. Then he said, “If I’d wanted you back, I would’ve gone to find you.”

  Rebecca’s sense of foreboding was confirmed. Of course! Lola had kept her in the loop about Kenzie’s life, after all. It was only logical that Rory would do the same for him. Why didn’t she think of it before?

  An oppressive sadness pressed down on her. What was left to say? She’d simply have to excuse herself and leave for good. She’d have time to mourn later.

  But she didn’t want to leave.

  She watched him stand by the fireplace, his back to her, staring at the flames. It took all her will not to go to him. “You’re right,” she conceded. “But I didn’t want to admit it. For once in my life, I was free to make my own decision, and I knew my life would remain stuck in memories of the past if I didn’t come to see you.”

  She felt her throat catch and stood up. Swallowing her pride, she continued: “Deep down I didn’t care if you rejected me, if there was someone else in your life, or even if you despised me. Nothing mattered except seeing you again. What we had ended so badly, I couldn’t—”

  He turned to look at her. “You came looking for forgiveness so you could clear your conscience and get on with your comfortable life, your teaching job, your new English boyfriend . . .”

  “My new boyfriend? You mean Matt?”

  “Are there others?”

  “No! And I’m not with Matt!”

  “Oh, so you dumped your English boyfriend and came looking for your Scottish lover. What’s wrong with Barcelona? Aren’t there enough men to go around?”

  “You were never just a lover.”

  “Of course I was. And apparently a good one, seeing as you’ve come back.” He went to the window, moved aside a thick curtain, and closed the shutters.

  “That’s not fair. If you know so much about me, you also know I had no choice but to marry Mario.”

  “You mean you didn’t see another option. Maybe you didn’t want to.”

  “That’s not true. It tore my heart apart to leave you.”

  “You made the comfortable decision.” He turned to her with a cold look. “You didn’t fight.”

  “I couldn’t fight everyone by myself.”

  “I would have helped you. Didn’t you think of that?”

  Rebecca eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t fight either, Kenzie. You believed me too easily.”

  He wasn’t expecting her reproach, and his eyes flashed anger. “And what was I supposed to do? You told me Mario was all you needed to be happy. Or did you forget that?”

  She hadn’t forgotten, but hearing the words come from his mouth, she knew just how devastating they must have been for him. Their conversation, she realized, wasn’t going anywhere. She tried to sound calm. “There’s too much bitterness in you. I can’t fight that.”

  Kenzie took a step toward her. “And how did you think you’d find me?” He leaned in close, and she smelled the whisky on his breath. “Did you think I’d drop to my knees, kiss your feet, and invite you into my bed?”

  Despite his intimidating proximity, Rebecca did not pull back. “I thought that maybe we could have a second chance. Life has denied us the happiness we had together. Don’t you remember, Kenzie?”

  “I remember a night in the forest,” he said through clenched teeth, “and vows of unity . . . And then it all went to hell in an instant. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but to me, you were my wife. It was real for me!”

  “It was real for me too, but I can’t go back and change the past.”

  “And I can’t help how I feel.”

  They looked at each other defiantly, desire battling resentment.

  He looked away first, turning his back on her, and raked his hand through his hair. Rebecca was relieved; his eyes had been burning into her.

  “Is that it? Is that all we have left?”

  He didn’t respond. She pulled on his arm. “Talk to me!”

  Kenzie turned brusquely, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her close. “Don’t force me to say things you don’t want to hear. I don’t want to hurt you.” His cat-like eyes closed until they were two slits. “There was a time I did want to hurt you. I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me. But the years have dulled the suffering, and the pain has turned to indifference.”

  “Or resentment.”

  “Call it whatever you want.” He grabbed his coat and put it on.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Come on. I’ll take you to your hotel or wherever you’re staying.”

  “No. I don’t want to go!” she cried.

  Kenzie’s impassioned look intensified. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to look at me like you did before, talk to me like you did before.”

  “Rebecca, I can’t. I don’t feel the same way I did then.”

  “I don’t believe you. It’s your wounded pride talking, not you.”

  “Do you have any idea how many times I imagined seeing you again?” he asked, squeezing her arms. She was too upset to say anything. “Answer me!”

  “No, Kenzie, I don’t know.”

  “Some days I felt I was drowning in all the feelings I had experienced with you. Other days the bitterness turned my heart black and I cursed you. And now you show up here, and you want me to forgive and forget and feel just like I did before.” His grip loosened on her arms, and the vein in his forehead receded. The tension that had seized him went out of him. And when he spoke, he buried once and for all his future with her. “Go home, Rebecca. There’s nothing for you here.”

  It’s over, she thought then; she couldn’t press him any further. Kenzie had built a wall of bitterness so strong she couldn’t penetrate it. She wanted to kiss him one last time, hoping it might somehow return to him the memory of their love. But she held back, fearing further rejection. She was defeated.

  She went to retrieve her raincoat, trembling and hunched, as if racked with pain.

  Kenzie turned his back on her and stirred the fire, perhaps to avoid having a final sad scene burned into his memory.

  The heat of the flames on his face matched the resentment burning inside him. Yet he was also aware of the great effort required to not embrace her when he saw how devastated she was by his rejection. The entire time she’d been there, he had been holdi
ng himself back. He’d be lost if he succumbed to sympathy for her.

  His thoughts were brought back to the present when he noticed the flames flickering in front of him and felt a draft circulating in the room. He turned with a sense of foreboding and saw that the room was empty. The front door was open, and Rebecca was nowhere to be seen. His heart clenched as he stepped into the darkness and shouted her name.

  Rain was pouring down. He hurried to his truck and started it as he swore to himself, cursing Rebecca’s foolishness. He hoped he would find her on the road and get her out of the cold rain, even if he had to insist. This was no kind of night to be out walking.

  “Shit!” he exclaimed, hitting the steering wheel. “Shit, shit, shit!” As he turned onto the highway, the windshield wipers could barely keep up with the wall of water. He strained to catch sight of Rebecca. “Where did you go?” he murmured.

  At that moment, Rebecca was leaning against a tree, trying to catch her breath. Running on the gravel road had tired her. She scolded herself for being out of shape, but she was determined that Kenzie wouldn’t find her. She couldn’t take any more of his hostility. If she had thought there was even a slight chance, she would have faced anything. But he’d made his feelings perfectly clear. There was no place for her in his life.

  She’d had to act quickly, so when she walked out the door, she took off running. She figured he wouldn’t realize for a moment or two that she was gone, and by then she’d have a head start. The dark night and incessant rain were in her favor, or at least that’s what she told herself. It would limit his visibility.

  The wind carried the desperate call of her name to her; he was looking for her. Rebecca kept moving and finally made it to the road. Her legs felt lighter now and her movements quicker, but she had to get off the road or he would find her easily. Over the pounding of the rain, she heard his truck engine start, and when she looked back she saw the truck’s headlights turn on in the darkness.

  She didn’t hesitate. She hopped the wooden rail and took off across the field. She hadn’t counted on her own visibility being so bad, and it was too late to swerve when she ran right into a stand of small trees. It could have been a lot worse. She got tangled in some of the low branches and fell.

  Please stop raining, she thought. She’d left her umbrella in the truck, and the force of the raindrops was giving her a headache. She picked herself up and moved more cautiously through the long grass. It slowed her progress but made her feel safer. She’d seen those unending fields by daylight. Kenzie finding her in the darkness in this storm was unlikely. She was sure she could make it to Mrs. Munro’s house; she just had to wait a while until he tired of looking for her or drove away. Then she could go out on the road again and make it back to Mrs. Munro’s in no time. She wished she were there already, with the sweet older woman comforting her as her tears flowed.

  Rebecca tired again and stopped to catch her breath. Her legs trembled from the exertion. She sat down. Her clothing was so soaked, the wet ground made no difference. She made her way to a nearby tree and leaned back against it. Her breathing slowed. She no longer heard him calling her name.

  It wasn’t long, however, before she was shivering. Running had been keeping her warm, but now she was seated under the tree in the freezing cold, her clothing soaked. She told herself she had to get up and get moving or she’d freeze out here. She attempted to, but her legs, stiff from the cold and exertion, wouldn’t support her weight. I’ll just rest a little longer, she told herself. Then I’ll go.

  A scenario of what her mother would say when she got home popped into her head: “I warned you! You should never have gone.” The thought of it didn’t bother her. She felt at peace with her decision. But not with the deteriorating predicament she was in now. Her thoughts weighed on her; she felt lethargic. Her mind was slowing too. So tired . . . she thought. The cold seeped into her bones; her body stopped shivering.

  He’ll find me if I leave now. I’ve got to hold out a little longer . . .

  She was nearly unconscious when she felt a bright, painful light shining on the dark interior of her eyelids. She tried to open her eyes, but her brain wouldn’t cooperate. She mumbled something and fell back into a stupor.

  She was vaguely aware that someone was lifting her. She managed to squint her eyes open a little and thought she saw Kenzie’s face.

  Kenzie walked quickly, illuminating his steps with the beam of a powerful flashlight. His truck was pulled off to one side of the road with its lights on and the engine running. He wasted no time getting her back to his place and inside. Two hours had elapsed, far too long to be outside in wet clothing in this weather.

  He put her down on the sofa. Her face was ashen, her lips purple, her skin cold as marble. She said something he couldn’t understand as he hurried to get her out of her wet clothes. Kenzie’s movements were deft, but he was careful not to move her body abruptly or rub her extremities, which would activate her blood flow. The most important thing was for her body to warm up slowly.

  He knew what he was doing. He’d suffered severe hypothermia as a boy, that time the old druid had found him half frozen in his barn. The old man had helped Kenzie recover and taught him what to do if he was ever in that situation again.

  In less than a minute Kenzie had removed her clothing and covered her frigid body with a blanket from the sofa. Then he went to get a heavier one that he warmed in front of the fire before wrapping it around her.

  Rebecca’s limited ability to respond worried Kenzie. He feared she was suffering hypoglycemia. He knew even slight hypothermia could deplete the glucose levels in a body exposed to the cold and wet. So before taking off his own wet clothes, he went to the kitchen and heated some milk with a spoonful of honey. When it was ready, he took it off the stove to cool while he changed into dry clothes. Then he took a cup of the warm milk to Rebecca.

  He saw the faint shivering under the blanket—a good sign. Her body was beginning to react. She opened her eyes when she felt a hand on her head.

  “I want you to drink this,” he said, bringing the cup to her lips.

  She took a sip. The liquid spread through her body, but she was still confused and unable to think clearly. She took small sips of the milk, and her spasms gradually subsided.

  “I want to move closer to the fire,” she said.

  “You can’t, not yet. Your body needs to warm slowly. Rest now, and in a little while you can have a hot bath.”

  “That sounds nice,” she said, and closed her eyes.

  Kenzie stirred the fire and sat down to wait. Rebecca’s rashness could have cost her dearly. He felt guilty for being the cause of her impulsive behavior. He knew he’d been harsh, but the truth was that he’d hardly had time to adjust to the fact of her presence in his life again. His emotions had surfaced so suddenly; he hadn’t had adequate time to think things through. He rested his face in his hands, his elbows on his thighs. He remained that way, at a distance, not daring to touch her, not allowing himself to stroke her hair. He hadn’t even been aware of her nakedness while he was undressing her; he was too terrified that something might happen to her.

  He saw her shift on the sofa and open her eyes. He got up and went to her side. She looked so shrunken, her body contracted under the blankets.

  He sat next to her. “How are you?” he asked, relieved at the color returning to her cheeks.

  She didn’t have the nerve to look at him. “Fine,” she murmured.

  “Wait here a second.” He disappeared behind a door and turned on the tap.

  “Do you think you can walk this far?” he asked, leaning out of the doorway.

  She tried, found her legs were working once again, and made her way to the bathroom.

  “Call if you need anything,” he said and went out.

  Rebecca tested the steamy water and eased herself in.

  After a while, as she was picking
debris out of her hair, Kenzie knocked and entered. “I brought a towel,” he said, hanging it on a hook. “Your clothes are still wet, so I’ll look for something of Sophie’s.”

  “Thank you,” she said, without adding that Sophie’s clothes would probably no longer fit her.

  As he turned to leave, Kenzie noticed Rebecca’s efforts to extricate a small leaf from her tangled hair.

  “Over here,” he said, pointing at the spot on his own head.

  She moved her hand over, feeling for it but not finding it.

  “A bit to the left,” he said.

  She kept missing it, so he went over, knelt down on one knee, and took the leaf out. There were more bits of debris hiding in her hair, and he took them out, one by one.

  Without thinking, Rebecca brought her hand out of the water with a soft splash and caught Kenzie’s. She felt him freeze and his tension grow when she placed his hand on her wet cheek. He held his breath as Rebecca gently turned her head and brought her lips to his palm. She kissed it and then guided it down her body until it made contact with her breast.

  Kenzie exhaled a long breath he had been holding. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, but his eyes radiated desire.

  Rebecca had never taken the initiative in sex, but she told herself that if she had to play the role of seductress to win him back, she would. She had nothing to lose.

  Kenzie’s hand lingered at her breast. Suddenly, she moved it to her belly, and then between her legs.

  “Rebecca . . .”

  “Shhh . . . I’ve missed you so much.”

  He didn’t say anything, and she sensed his desire fighting a losing battle with his resentment. She closed her eyes at the rapturous pleasure of his touch.

  She let out a soft gasp and opened her eyes to look at the man she loved. The longing on his face told her he wanted her. But a sliver of self-control prevented it. He reacted swiftly, removing his hand from the place that threatened his resolve.

  Rebecca was startled. For a moment she had thought she had won; she had thought Kenzie was yielding. Stubborn Scot, she said to herself as she watched him storm out.