by Wolf, Bree
In that moment, he overtook her, reaching the small cluster of trees not an arm’s length ahead of her. “Drat!” Nessa cursed, angry with herself for breaking her concentration.
Pulling to a halt, they both dismounted. “I believe the claim is mine,” Grant chuckled as they tethered their horses to low-hanging branches. Their eyes met across their horses’ necks, and Nessa found that his chest rose and fell with equally fast breaths as her own. His hair was nearly wet and tousled in a rather devilish way, especially considering that mischievous spark that wouldn’t leave his eyes.
The rain came down hard by the time they stepped closer to the ash’s thick trunk, sheltered by its massive canopy. “You seem angry, my dear,” Grant commented as he pulled her closer, running his hands up and down her arms as she shivered. “Cold?”
Nessa nodded, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. Warmth radiated from his body, and Nessa sank into it, resting her head on his shoulder. Her anger evaporated, and all she felt was contentment.
The soft pitter-patter of rain slowly calmed her breathing, and she closed her eyes, feeling her husband’s heartbeat right below her palm, slow and steady as it calmed to its normal rhythm. A familiar peacefulness washed over her, and she heaved a deep sigh. “This feels wonderful.”
Nessa could feel him smile against her temple. “I agree,” he chuckled before his hand gently lifted her chin and his gaze dropped to her lips. “I still have a kiss to claim.”
“Is that so?” Nessa teased as she pushed herself up onto her toes.
Leaning down, Grant captured her mouth in an overwhelmingly sweet kiss that chased away the chill and lingered warmly on her skin. A fire ignited within, and Nessa strove closer, deepening the kiss as his fingers trailed gently over her face. His fingertips brushed along her jaw and then down her neck, goosebumps trailing in their wake. “We were fortunate to have found this spot in time,” Grant panted as he urged her back against the sturdy ash tree’s trunk. His hands trailed down her back and settled on her waist, holding her to him.
“It’s our lucky spot,” Nessa agreed between kisses as her arms snaked around his neck. “Do you remember how we sought refuge here before?”
Grant’s lips stilled against hers, and his whole body tensed as though shock had frozen his limbs. He lifted his head to look into her eyes, and she saw that his were wide, searching hers with an urgency she couldn’t understand. “Do you?” he whispered, his voice almost breathless as though someone had punched him in the stomach. “Do you remember?”
Nessa blinked, momentarily confused. “Of course, I do. How could I forg—?” The moment the words left her lips, her mind finally understood what he was asking.
Her jaw dropped as she felt her thoughts touch on a distant memory. She could smell the wet grass under her feet, hear the soft pitter-patter of raindrops overhead and feel the tenderness of Grant’s embrace as they huddled together to stay warm.
Only that had not been today.
Not now.
It had been years ago before they’d lost each other.
“I remember,” Nessa mumbled as her body began to tremble with the onslaught of memories thought lost. Her hands all but dug into his arms as she sought to steady herself, and tears streamed down her face, mixing with the rain. “I remember.”
Staring into her husband’s eyes, seeing unbelievable joy slowly spread over his face, Nessa felt her whole world turn upside down. For a second, it felt as though the ground was pulled out from under her and she swayed on her feet, certain she would fall.
Grant’s hands surged forward, pulling her back against him. His hands were warm and steady, and they held her safely by his side as his moss-green eyes looked into hers. “Do you remember me?” he whispered, his voice choked with hope and joy and the need to contain them both lest they’d be dashed with a single word from her lips.
Looking up into his bright green eyes, Nessa saw every single one of the familiar emerald sparks as they shifted with the light, turning a warm golden or a pale grayish shade. She saw his eyes look back into hers, warm and devoted, as they had countless times…when they’d exchanged their vows, when Milly had been born, when they’d lost Oliver. Always had his eyes looked into hers, steady and true, promising her a lifetime with each other.
A lifetime that had been cut short.
“I remember you,” Nessa whispered as tears choked her words. “I remember.” Flinging herself into his arms, Nessa clung to him with a fierceness that only his own desperate longing could match. His arms held her in a viselike grip and her ribs ached with the pressure, and yet, she never wanted him to let go.
Her head spun with the memories slowly drifting before her eyes, and she closed them, savoring each and every one. “I remember,” she mumbled against his shoulder again and again, feeling her husband’s tears run from his chin onto her temple and down her cheeks where they mixed with hers.
For a long time, they clung to each other as the skies drenched the world around them, washing away the past and paving the road for a brighter tomorrow.
Slowly, the downpour turned to a drizzle, which soon stopped as the clouds moved on. The sun fought its way through, touching the world below with its warm rays. The darkness receded, and light glistened around them, reflected in the millions of tiny drops clinging to branches and leaves. Warmth returned, and the moment Nessa lifted her head from her husband’s shoulder, utter happiness flooded her heart. “I’m Nessa,” she stated, her voice wobbly, but ringing with certainty. “I’m me. I’m Nessa. I remember.”
Grant’s green eyes glistened with tears as he looked down at her. “You’re back,” he whispered, his own voice heavy with emotion as well. “You’re back.” His hands brushed over her face, trailing along her jaw and skimming over her eyes as though he were seeing her for the first time in years. “You’re back.”
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Nessa nodded as a tentative smile tugged on her lips. “I’m back.”
His hand slid into her hair and settled on the back of her neck. A multitude of emotions danced in those emerald flecks that sparked in his eyes, and he gritted his teeth, overwhelmed by the power of the moment. His mouth opened as though he wished to express them, but then paused.
A moment later, an anguished growl rose from his throat and he crushed his lips to hers in a desperate attempt to make himself heard.
Nessa understood without words, answering his demand with equal measure. The loss and loneliness of the past three years flowed into that kiss, and they clung to each other as though for dear life.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Far Reach of the Past
Holding his wife—his Nessa!—in his arms, Grant felt a rock rolling off his chest. For the first time in years, he was able to breathe freely and with ease.
Even though she had given him her heart yet again, he had to admit that the memories of their life together did make a difference. They were a part of who they were together, of who they had become, and without them, a piece was missing. Or had been missing.
Looking down into her warm hazel eyes, now misted with tears, Grant saw a different kind of recognition than before. He could see with one glance that she remembered who he was, who they were together. Finally, after all those months of hope and fear, she had returned to him.
His Nessa!
Unable to release her, Grant held her close. “I was so afraid you’d never remember,” he whispered, knowing he would never have placed that burden on her if she had not remembered. “I always knew who you were, and yet, there is something different in your eyes now that you remember.”
Nessa nodded, blinking back a tear. “I know. I loved you before, but now remembering the path we walked together, it’s different.” She swallowed and reached up a hand, her fingertips brushing over his chin and then up the side of his face. “When I look at you, I see all that, all that was and it warms me.” A sob tore from her throat, and her jaw began to tremble. “I rememb
er.”
Once again, Grant yanked her into his arms, feeling his muscles strain with the tension that kept them wrapped around one another. She clung to him as much as he clung to her as the fear of losing one another again still lingered. Hope and fear swirled around them, pulling them this way and that, making them sway back and forth. Then Grant stepped back, once again lifting her head with a hand to her chin, his eyes seeking hers. “We were always meant to be together,” he told her as much as himself. “The past three years were a trial, nothing more. We were always meant to find each other again.”
Relief misted in Nessa’s eyes as she nodded her head. “Always.”
“Always,” Grant agreed, exhaling a deep sigh. His body began to relax as the truth of what had happened slowly sank in. “You’re back.”
“I’m back,” Nessa confirmed before she briefly closed her eyes, a deep breath leaving her lips. “I’m back.”
“The day I lost you was the darkest of my life,” Grant told her, determined to rid himself of all the pain and grief of the past three years, “but now that you’re back I will only look to the future. A future with you.” Smiling down at her, Grant noticed that her eyes had become distant. They no longer held his, but were directed at something inward.
A memory perhaps.
The thought tickled a smile from Grant’s lips. “What is it?” he asked, giving her jaw a slight squeeze. “Are you all right?”
Nessa swallowed, and her cheeks paled as she blinked, then looked at him. “I do not know,” she whispered, and the tremble that choked her voice brought a cold chill to his bones. “I remember that…”
“What?” Grant pressed, wishing that, for once, there would be no darkness surrounding them. Could they not simply be happy again? Did they not deserve that?
“The day I left to meet Connie, I…” Again, her gaze became unfocused as she tried to concentrate on something he couldn’t see. Her brows drew down, bringing a confused frown to her lovely face. “We stopped at midday for a short meal,” she continued, her gaze still fixed on the moment of her past she finally remembered. “Not long after, I began to feel dizzy. My eyelids grew heavy, and I felt sick to my stomach.”
Grant’s breath lodged in his throat as he stared at her, and a dark sense of foreboding came over him.
“I knocked on the carriage’s roof and begged Mr. Darby to stop.” Her hands trembled, and they dug into his arms as though she stood up on a cliff and was afraid to fall. “When he did, I stumbled from the carriage, but managed only a few steps before I sank to the ground. My legs could no longer hold me. I vomited on the side on the road, then collapsed on the ground, unable to move.” She blinked, and her gaze finally returned to meet his. “My limbs felt heavy, so heavy, and everything began to drift away. My eyes closed and I,” her brows knitted together, “called for Mr. Darby, but he didn’t come.”
Grasping Nessa’s hands, Grant found them chilled and wrapped them in his own. “Are you sure that’s what happened?” he asked, wishing with all his being that it wasn’t so.
Nessa nodded. “I see it now as clear as day.” She swallowed hard before the look in her eyes changed, and he knew that she was trying to recall more of what had happened that day. “I heard him moving about as though he were working on the carriage. I heard leather snap, and then there was a loud crack. The horses neighed and then…” Squinting her eyes, she shook her head, frustration etched into her eyes.
“And then?” Grant demanded as his hands gripped her upper arms, pulling her closer against him.
Staring up at him, Nessa shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered, shock chilling her voice. “That’s all I remember. Then everything went dark. I…I must’ve lost consciousness.”
Running a hand through his wet hair, Grant felt a sharp tug on his scalp, welcoming the slight discomfort it brought as it momentarily distracted him from the horror that had gripped him at Nessa’s retelling of that day. “What…what are you saying?” he croaked, wishing with every fiber of his being that there was a reasonable explanation for what had happened that day.
With her jaw still trembling and her eyes wide with terror, Nessa shook her head. “I don’t know. I—”
Grant’s hands on her arms tightened and he pulled her against him, the tip of his nose almost touching hers. “What are you saying? Are you…are you saying that Mr. Darby deliberately…?” He couldn’t bring himself to finish the question as its implications resonated in his bones, turning his stomach at the mere suggestion of it.
Taking a deep breath, Nessa struggled to stay calm as she met his penetrating gaze. “I cannot say what happened,” she whispered almost breathless. “The memory just came to me when you mentioned…that day.” She swallowed hard. “I do not know what to make of it.” Her eyes widened as they flitted from side to side, no doubt searching for something that would explain what had happened.
As patiently as he could, Grant waited, reminding himself to loosen his hold lest he bruise her arms with his iron grip.
After a few heartbeats, Nessa’s gaze stilled, then rose to meet his. “I remember when you came to pick me up at the abbey, the moment Mr. Darby saw me, he…” Frowning, she shook her head. “He seemed shocked. He stared at me as though he were suddenly sick to his stomach. I told myself that was only natural after seeing someone one had believed to be dead.” She sighed. “Others looked at me in a similar fashion. I always thought it was simply shock that had made him stare at me that day.” Her gaze burned into his. “But what if it wasn’t?”
Grant drew in a slow breath as every part of him fought against the conclusions he was forced to draw.
As far as he had known, something had spooked the horses and they had run off. Mr. Darby had been thrown and lost consciousness. Later, he had found the horses grazing a ways off and tracks leading down a bank into the river. There had been no sign of the carriage or Nessa until they had found the wreckage of the carriage downstream. After that, they’d searched the surrounding area, but had never found Nessa. Everyone had assumed she had drowned in the stream.
Fortunately, that had not been the case. She’d been safe and was finally back in his life. For that alone, Grant was more grateful than he would ever be able to express.
Still, the nagging thought that Mr. Darby could have lied—in all likelihood had lied—and had somehow and for an unknown reason orchestrated Nessa’s accident brought red hot rage to Grant’s heart, quickly overwhelming the horror that lingered after his wife’s retelling.
“We need to speak to him,” Nessa exclaimed and immediately stepped away toward their horses. “I need to know—”
Grant pulled her back, hearing the slight hitch in her voice that always betrayed a deeper sense of agitation. “Wait,” he told her, settling her back into his arms. “There’s no reason to rush onward without thought. Can you think of any reason why Mr. Darby would have done this? Was there ever any tension between the two of you? Any reason why he might dislike you?” The thought alone was ludicrous. But Grant had to ask as he tried his best to remain calm and silence the murderous anger boiling in his blood.
Nessa shook her head. “No, not that I can think of. I’m afraid to say I never spoke more than a few words with him. He was a nice enough man and always acted appropriately around me. That is about all I remember.”
Grant’s brows rose in question before he could stop them.
“Not because I forgot!” Nessa huffed, rolling her eyes at him. “I remember now. But I cannot remember what I never knew, what I never noticed. Can you?” A dare clung to her voice as she regarded him.
Grant shook his head, a small smile coming to his lips as he saw her fire, the way she lifted her head and met his eyes without flinching. “Of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“It doesn’t matter,” Nessa interrupted, once more trying to step away. “We need to get back and talk to him.”
She had already reached her dapple gray when Grant said, “We cannot.�
�
“Why?” Nessa asked, turning back to look at him as her nimble fingers worked to untie the reins.
Closing the small distance between them, Grant reached for her hands. “We’ve not traveled anywhere lately so you might not have noticed, but Mr. Darby is no longer in our employ.”
“What? Why not?”
Grant sighed. “A few months ago—come to think of it, not long after your return—he came to me and said he had to leave. He spoke of a sick relative who needed his help.” Cursing, Grant ran his hand through his hair, wishing he had asked for more details. Had the man left because he’d feared Nessa might remember what he’d done?
Still, the question remained why on earth had he done it in the first place? What did he have to gain?
Chapter Thirty-Four
Return to Wentford Park
The sun shone bright and clear as they mounted their horses and turned toward Wentford Park. Wetness still clung to the world around them, but the air was warming. Nessa sat on her mare, her thoughts directed inward as she tried to process all that had returned to her. “Did he drug me?” she mumbled, only slightly aware of Grant’s renewed interest. He, too, had been lost in thought, but now urged his horse closer to hers.
“What do you mean?”
Nessa inhaled a deep breath. Although she hated the pain and anger that came to his eyes with every word she said, she knew she could not keep this from him. “I was wondering if perhaps he’d drugged me, if that was why I felt so ill.”
“Perhaps,” Grant bit out through clenched teeth before his gaze softened as his eyes returned to her. “Are you all right?”
Nessa nodded. “Only confused, and perhaps a little frightened.” Holding out her hand, she smiled when he grasped it with his own, holding it tightly; a bond never to be severed again.
“The letter!” Nessa suddenly exclaimed as another memory resurfaced. “I didn’t write it!”
