Remember My Love

by Elise Dee Beraru

  "I won't, sir."

  Adele grabbed Joshua by the hand and pulled him back to her seat. Seating him opposite her, she fumed, "Where did you learn to be such a liar?"

  Josh ignored the question. "Don't you want to be my mommy?" he asked.

  Of course I do, Adele thought. "That's not the point. You're not supposed to be here. As much as I might want to be your mother, I'm not. Honey, your daddy could accuse me of kidnapping you and I could go to jail. Then what would happen to Beatrice?"

  "I'd take care of her," he answered gravely, "and I'd tell them you didn't steal me."

  "Why did you tell the conductor I was your mother?"

  "I don't know."

  "Well it's too late now. You'll just have to keep pretending until we get to Green River. By then I'll figure out what to do."

  THE POLICE officer took down the information in a small notebook as he asked his questions.

  "Who was the last person to see the boy?"

  "It had to have been my sister," said Susannah. "She was his governess."

  Molly put in, "Last night when I brought their dinner up to the nursery, Joshua was there. So were Miss Adele and little Bea."

  Blair added, "My driver said Joshua was not with them when he drove Mrs. Strange to the station. I can't believe Adele would want to do Joshua any harm."

  "The letter Adele wrote to Susannah and me didn't sound like she had anything to do with Josh disappearing," Stephen commented.

  The police officer looked skeptical. "Do you have a theory, Mr. Carroll?"

  "Yes. If my son knew Mrs. Strange was leaving--and I doubt she could have hidden her packing from him--I'm afraid he might have tried to follow the carriage to the station on foot and gotten lost. Officer, I want you to proceed on that basis. I simply do not believe Adele Strange had anything to do with my son's disappearance, at least not actively."

  "As you wish, Mr. Carroll. If you hear anything or if the boy returns, you will let us know."

  Chapter 17

  STEPHEN FOUND the telegram on his desk the next morning. He tore into the envelope to read:

  STEPHEN CARROLL

  CARROLL ENTERPRISES

  EMBARCADERO

  SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

  JOSHUA STOWED AWAY STOP I AM NOT RETURNING STOP WILL NOT SEND HIM UNACCOMPANIED STOP IF BLAIR WANTS HIM COME GET HIM CARE OF DUNEAGAN GREEN RIVER STOP WILL NOT SEND HIM HOME WITH STRANGER STOP ADELE.

  "Thank God," he exclaimed. The past twenty-four hours had been terrible. None of them had slept more than a few winks while sitting in chairs in the parlor. Stephen had never seen Blair more worried, though the older man refused to discuss it.

  Quickly he summoned young Todd to deliver a note to the police to call off their search. Then he brought the message into Blair's office and handed it to his brother to read.

  Blair scanned the yellow paper. A frown creased his brow.

  "She sent the telegram to you, Stephen. Why to you? Joshua is my son."

  Stephen was angry but not shocked that Blair's first comment should be about the mode of address of the wire rather than any show of relief about Joshua's safety.

  Testily he replied, "Because I told her before she left to contact me if she needed anything."

  Blair looked up suddenly. "You knew she was leaving?" he responded.

  "I knew she was considering it, yes. The only thing I didn't know was exactly when. I don't blame her, though. Staying here was killing her by slow torture."

  "She never told me she was upset."

  "Would you have listened? Would you have tried to stop her? You've spent most of the last few weeks going out of your way to avoid her. What happened the night you had dinner in the nursery?"

  A deep flush suffused Blair's face. "That's none of your damned business," he bit out.

  Stephen smiled enigmatically. "Just what I thought. You've thrown away the only woman you've ever met who doesn't fit your idea of what women are. Adele and Susannah Stoddard are a breed apart. But even a special woman like Adele can't live with constant rejection from the man she loves. It doesn't surprise me in the least that she left without a word to you. She's through with you, Blair. And I say it's about time."

  "What the hell is `Duneagan Green River?'"

  "I made Adele a promise not to tell you. I expect she thinks you should know the answer. And don't ask Susannah. I had her promise me to stay out of this."

  "Why do I feel that everyone around me knows more about this than I do?" Blair exclaimed.

  "Probably because everyone does. You refuse to put the pieces together. You've buried yourself--in work--in your nightmares. Do you want your memory to come back or don't you?"

  "Of course I do," Blair growled. "Do you think I like having a blank space in my mind?"

  "Sometimes I think you do. It gives you someplace to run away to. It gives you a reason not to get involved with the best woman you've ever laid eyes on."

  "What the hell does my amnesia have to do with Adele? I never met her before this past December."

  Or did I? A nagging voice assailed him.

  "Adele couldn't live with your brutal coldness anymore and I've had enough of it, too."

  "You don't understand. I love her."

  "Well you figured it out a little bit late. Look at yourself in the mirror, big brother; you've thrown away everyone in your life."

  "Even you?"

  "Blair, I'm marrying Susannah Stoddard in June. I've bought my own house and I'm moving in as soon as the sale is closed and the decorating is done. Now that Adele is gone, Susannah is going back to live at Mrs. O'Bannion's boarding house until the wedding. I'd love her to live with me, but she's concerned about her reputation. But one thing's dead certain: We're not starting married life in a house you've made so oppressive that your own son would rather live with a complete stranger than with you. But then, Blair, come to think of it, which of you is the complete stranger to Josh, Adele--or you?"

  "Damn you, Stephen!"

  Stephen's quiet reply shook Blair. "I'm not the one who's damned." He left the office quietly.

  That night Blair came home drunk. The servants were long abed and Stephen was so angry that he rented a hotel room for the night where Susannah joined him. The quiet was eerie.

  He went into his office and poured himself another whisky and collapsed in the wing chair. The taste of the whisky seared his throat. God, he hated the stuff! His aching eyes closed.

  His fevered brain heard the sound of weeping. To his dying day, Blair never knew for sure if his eyes were open or closed, but he saw the dark angel on her knees, her hair loose around her shoulders, her face buried in her hands. But unlike his earlier dreams, the angel was dressed in a white--no, a colorless gown. He'd seen that gown before--but where?

  Then he saw a shadow rise behind the angel and hand her a bundle. The angel rose to her feet, holding the bundle to her. The bundle was an infant and she held it gently in her arms. The shadow behind her materialized into a man--with long black hair and mustache--who drew the angel into his embrace.

  "Don't cry, sweeting," said the shadow. "I'm here. I'll never forget you."

  The faces became clear to him....

  In the morning, Blair awoke to find both horseshoe nail rings in his hand, linked together like a chain, despite the fact that both had been welded into continuous circles when they were created almost two years before.

  He had no memory of how they'd come into his hand this night.

  But what they were was less of a mystery.

  THE LATE SPRING was turning the prairie green and blue. Welcome rain washed the sky and the unplowed ground was covered in grasses and hints of wildflowers. The fields of the Stoddard farm were already budding with wheat and corn, promising a fruitful harvest.

  Adele stood on the porch of her house, staring out beyond to the horizon. She felt a strange detachment to the scene. Her attention was recaptured by the high-pitched playful screams of children.

  John Lawrence,
once called Swift Arrow, was lying on the ground under a pile of teasing children. Sean Duneagan's half-Cheyenne son-in-law was doing his best against his own two red-haired hooligans, Tess and Aaron, aged seven and eight, and their guest, Josh Carroll, but seemed to be losing the wrestling match, which was dissolving into a tickling contest.

  Following them around on baby round legs, fourteen-month-old Bea Strange had her arms locked firmly under the front paws of an excessively annoyed Little Gent. The poor tom did not know whether to claw his way down or just stoically endure the affectionate mauling Bea gave her "Lijen." Like the others, Bea was screeching and giggling as she tried to insinuate herself into the fray, tomcat and all.

  From inside the house, Moira Duneagan Lawrence emerged carrying two cups of tea, one of which she handed Adele. Moira was red-haired, freckled and green-eyed--and well on her way to her third child.

  "I can't tell you what being able to lease this land from you has meant to us, Adele. Arrow wanted to take me off the reservation and go back to my family, but we didn't have enough money to buy land. It was so miserable there. Sometimes I can't believe my husband's part Cheyenne, farming seems too much a part of his blood."

  "It's so strange," Adele commented, "I lived on this land almost my entire life, yet it seems so alien to see crops growing I didn't seed and people and livestock I've never met. But when I walked out to see the fields, I could see that you've put as much love into this place as I ever did--and as much hard work. Your husband is a remarkable man."

  Moira laughed. "Yes, indeed. Did you know, before I went to the reservation to be a nurse, I was thinking of becoming a nun, but one look at Arrow and my only thought was that my true vocation was going to be complete devotion to him. He was trying so hard to make that horribly barren reservation land arable. Da thought I'd lost my mind--not that he'd wanted me to take the veil." She sighed, "It wasn't my mind I'd lost; it was my heart, but in exchange I've gained so much more."

  Adele rubbed her left hand with her right. Her hand felt naked with her wedding ring gone, the skin still white and rubbed smooth where it had been. Her eyes filled with tears.

  I never used to cry, Adele thought, the last few months I've barely stopped. Damn you, Blair Carroll! You stole my heart, then you took my strength away from me and left me nothing but tears.

  Moira put her hand on Adele's shoulder. "Da told me about your husband disappearing like he did--I think if anything happened to Arrow I'd wither away and die. It's so wonderful that you have two such beautiful children to remember him by."

  Since Josh had been calling Adele nothing but "Mommy" since the train, Adele decided to just let him have his way than explain why he was with her. Sean Duneagan knew the truth, but agreed to say nothing. Either his father would come and claim him or she would be gone from here soon enough and explanations could follow.

  "Moira, I'm so glad you let us stay the day...." she began.

  "Adele, you must always feel that this is still your home."

  "No, I can see now that this is no longer my home--your love and hard work has made it yours." She held up her hand to silence Moira. "I couldn't continue to live here. It would remind me too much of...." She hesitated on the name, not even sure to call him Blair or Brian anymore. Brian Strange had loved her. As for Blair Carroll, she was not sure he loved anyone, including himself. "I've changed since I've been away. That's clear. I'll just have to make my home elsewhere. If you're interested, I'd like to meet with you and Arrow and Mr. Duneagan and work out some kind of plan where you could buy the place from Susannah and me over time. I know she doesn't plan to come back here. Her life is now in San Francisco. I'm sure there's a lawyer in Green River who can work out the details so that it's fair to all concerned."

  Funny, Susannah told me when we left in December that she felt she was never coming back. It's a good thing, since there's nothing left to come back to.

  Moira suddenly embraced Adele, then ran down the porch step and called to her husband, "Arrow, Adele wants us to buy the place--what do you think?"

  The half-breed came over to Adele. "If you're sure, I'm sure Sean can work out a deal. The first time I broke a plow furrow in the soil, I knew I was home." He laughed. "Some Cheyenne I've turned out to be! No matter. You go forward or you die."

  His sentiments echoed Adele's perfectly. If only she had some place to go forward towards.

  "Then it's settled," she responded. "We'll talk over the details with your father-in-law this evening."

  Another chapter in Adele's book of life closed.

  OWEN WINSLOW came into Stephen Carroll's office. The lawyer looked up from the file he was reviewing.

  "Can I do something for you, Mr. Winslow?"

  "I was hoping Mr. Blair was in here."

  "I haven't laid eyes on Blair in over a week. I've moved out of the house temporarily. My brother has some things to work out in his mind that are better served by my absence."

  "I was glad to hear the little boy is safe. I assume one of you will be heading east to get him soon."

  Stephen sighed, "As much as I love that kid, it won't be me. Right now he's better off with Mrs. Strange--um--Miss Stoddard, wherever she is. When my brother decides what he wants, it will be for him to do."

  "On another subject, Mr. Blair scheduled a number of appointments for this afternoon. If he doesn't return are you willing to see them in his stead?"

  Stephen leaned back in his chair. "Of course. Just bring me the files and proposals beforehand. I've run this company before and I can do it again if I must. The only difference is, this time I know Blair will be back."

  "Very good, sir," Winslow said and then departed.

  Stephen closed his eyes painfully. "At least I hope so," he commented wearily.

  "ADELE, IF YOU don't eat something, you're going to get sick," Mr. Duneagan chided, but his teasing tone only barely disguised his concern.

  An almost ghostly gauntness surrounded her, making her usual slenderness seem almost plump by comparison. Her hair and eyes were dull, stealing color from her face. Her cheekbones were painfully prominent in her oval face and topped with the purplish bruises of one for whom sleep is a stranger.

  In the four weeks since returning to Green River, Adele had been slowly withering away. There had been no word from anyone in San Francisco about returning Joshua--and now, for all intents and purposes, the farm was the property of Mr. & Mrs. John Lawrence. She weaned Beatrice, the little girl chattered new words to anyone who would give her five minutes and seemed determined to hug Little Gent to death--when she wasn't doing the same to Josh. Joshua took it better than the cat did. He hugged her and carried her around until she squealed with laughter. As far as he was concerned, Bea was his sister and no one could tell him otherwise.

  The children were happy. Anywhere they were was home enough for them.

  Green River had never been home to Adele. She had seldom gone into town more than three or four times a year in her entire life. After spending months in San Francisco, the town seemed too quiet. Somehow starting a new life in this little city made no sense. She could wire Stephen for money. She knew he would send it. She could start a small business. But could she pass the municipal building without remembering her short but ultimately sweet wedding day? Could she pass the hotel without remembering Brian slipping the horseshoe nail wedding ring on her finger? Could she go into the mercantile without remembering that it was in front of that shop that Brian Strange had been taken away from her so suddenly? She felt like a dry, brown leaf, ready to blow wherever the wind blew, but of no earthly use to anyone.

  Duneagan sat down opposite Adele. His kind green eyes were empathetic. He ran his hand through his thinning grayish-red hair. He had known Adele Stoddard as long as he had been factoring crops on the prairie, nearly twenty years since he had pulled his family out of a starving Ireland only to discover that his love of the land did not include working it, but did include the commerce of it. He remembered the slender, solemn sixteen-yea
r-old who grasped her little sister's hand so bravely at their mother's grave-side, who learned to plow and plant following her father behind a mule, who took the reins herself and become father, mother, farm hand, anchor, when her father began to waste slowly and painfully away. But he also remembered the radiant bride. Was it only two years ago that she asked him and Grace--as the only townspeople she really knew--to stand up with her at her wedding to the man who was responsible for breaking her heart?

  No, he thought, the bastard had broken more than her heart--he had broken her spirit, her willingness to care. Adele's aloneness was shattering. She went through the motions of living in the world, but no longer really chose to inhabit it. Not the child she had borne, nor the handsome one who had adopted her, nor even her pugnacious feline was successfully penetrating her devastating solitude.

  "Adele, you've got to do something about yourself. If not here, somewhere."

  Adele sighed, "What do you suggest?"

  "Right after your mother died you gave me a letter to post that you wrote to her parents to tell them."

  "Yes, I remember doing that. I told them about Susannah and me and all sorts of things about Ma. They never wrote back, but their lawyer sent me a bank draft to buy Ma a headstone. Seems to me we used it to buy a new plow."

  "Your grandparents would probably be in their sixties or seventies now, if they're still alive. Age can soften grudges. Maybe they would be more forgiving of their grand- and great-granddaughters now."

  Adele shook her head as if to settle the notion in her brain. "Are you suggesting I take Bea and go to Baltimore? We left there when I was Bea's age."

  "The way you're going now, one place is as good as another. I'd rather think of you as alive in Baltimore than dead in Wyoming. And if you don't pull yourself out of the hole you've dug for yourself, I'm fully afraid that's the way you're going."

  "But I don't even know my Maxwell relatives."

  "Even so. Baltimore's a big city full of possibilities. And I'd be willing to wager you could make a go of a tailor shop much better in the East than Green River or anywhere else."