The Lost (Echoes from the Past Book 9)

by Irina Shapiro

  Chapter 26

  The bright light of day brought new clarity. The storm had passed, and so had Jocelyn’s resolve to steer clear of Derek. Even if he meant her no harm, he clearly possessed vital information that would help her identify the threat against her. She needed to discover what he knew and how he’d come by the knowledge. Jocelyn washed and dressed and presented herself downstairs, her heart racing. Would Derek acknowledge last night’s visit? Would he tell her what she needed to know?

  “Good morning, Alice. How are you feeling today?” Hannah asked solicitously when Jocelyn walked into the kitchen. Hannah was setting the table for breakfast.

  “I’m well. Thank you,” she said demurely. “Can I help?”

  “You can slice the bread.” Hannah gave Jocelyn an inquiring look as she set the dish of butter on the table. “Ben says you went down to the beach yesterday,” she said nonchalantly. “He saw you running toward the water.”

  It wasn’t really a question, but Jocelyn felt an answer was expected. Hannah and Ben were clearly worried about her.

  “I thought looking at a stormy sea might help me remember,” Jocelyn explained.

  “And did it? Is that what brought the nightmares on?” Hannah asked, her eyes filled with sympathy.

  “Yes, I think so,” Jocelyn replied. She had no wish to tell Hannah about her dream.

  Hannah nodded. “Dr. Rosings did say something trivial might trigger your memory.”

  “Good morning, Ben,” Jocelyn said brightly, grateful for the interruption as Ben came in from the outside. He smelled strongly of cow, and there were bits of straw on his boots.

  Josh was right behind him, carrying a bucket of water. “Here you go, Ma,” he said.

  Hannah nodded her thanks and set the bucket aside, the water to be used later for washing up. Everyone took their seats at the table.

  “Where’s Derek?” Jocelyn asked. “Should we not wait for him?”

  “Derek left early this morning,” Hannah said as she set the pot of porridge on the table.

  “He went to New York City,” Josh exclaimed. “I wish he’d take me with him,” he said wistfully.

  “He doesn’t need you getting underfoot,” Ben said as he ladled porridge first into his own bowl and then into Josh’s. He passed the ladle to Jocelyn, who took a healthy helping.

  “What’s in New York City?” she asked.

  “We need supplies for the coming winter,” Hannah said. “Derek will trade some of our corn and barley for items we can’t purchase locally. And Mistress Blanchette asked him to trade a few jars of honey. She has a beehive,” Hannah explained. “The girls have been looking after it.”

  Jocelyn stole a peek at Ben. He finished his porridge and reached for a piece of bread, which he buttered liberally and spread with some honey. He didn’t seem tense or upset, nor did he regard her with suspicion. Derek didn’t appear to have shared his misgivings about her with his brother, but the sudden trip to New York City was concerning. What if Derek’s true mission was to inform someone that she was here? Jocelyn sighed warily. If she went on like this, she’d worry herself into the grave, but how could she be sure she was safe?

  “Is there anything I can help you with today, Hannah?” Jocelyn asked. She needed to keep busy in order to safeguard her sanity.

  “I could use your help with the laundry,” Hannah replied. “We’ll get it done in half the time with the two of us working. I think I’ll make us an apple pie for dessert,” she mused as she took a sip of tea. “I have a hankering for something sweet.”

  “Yes, please,” Josh cried. “We haven’t had pie in forever.”

  “If by forever you mean a few weeks, then yes, it’s been forever,” Hannah teased him. “You can help peel the apples.”

  Josh shrugged. “I don’t mind, as long as I can eat the peelings.”

  “Are you a pig?” Ben asked, and made oinking sounds.

  Josh smacked him on the arm. “I like peelings,” he said defensively. “They’re sweet.”

  “Nothing wrong with peelings,” Hannah jumped to his defense. “I like them too. I’ll tell you what. We’ll make two pies,” she said. “That way, everyone can have a second helping.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Ben said as he rose from the table. “Well, I’ve got chores to see to. Maybe if you have time, you can help me out as well.” He winked at Jocelyn in a conspiratorial way.

  Jocelyn nodded but made no promises. She had no wish to be alone with Ben until she confronted Derek.

  The day seemed to go on forever, every hour dragging with maddening slowness. Jocelyn peered into the distance every time she stepped outside, as hopeful as she was fearful to finally spot Derek. But there was no sign of him. She had no idea how long it took to get to New York City but didn’t ask for fear of showing too obvious an interest.

  “Would you like to take a walk?” Ben asked when he came in around four o’clock. “We don’t have to go far if you don’t feel up to it.”

  Jocelyn’s first instinct was to refuse, but the waiting was driving her mad, and she could use the exercise. She’d been on the go all day, helping with the laundry and various other household chores, but she longed to just walk out in the open, the fresh breath of the November breeze gentle on her face.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’d love to.”

  “Go on,” Hannah called from the kitchen. “Take my cloak, Alice.”

  The cloak was made of thick, coarse wool, but it was warm and kept out the chill. Ben and Jocelyn skirted a field and walked across a meadow, the still-green grass covered in a carpet of fallen leaves. The reds, golds, and persimmons of autumn were gloriously vibrant, a living canvas painted by nature’s hand.

  “I thought you might want to talk,” Ben said gently. “After what happened yesterday.”

  “I wasn’t trying to drown myself,” Jocelyn said defensively.

  “You just seemed so…” He let the sentence trail off. “I just want to help,” he tried again, his expression earnest. “You can talk to me. About anything.”

  Jocelyn nodded. He was only trying to be kind, but she didn’t want to talk. She wasn’t ready. Talking would only make her feel lonelier and more frightened since she didn’t have answers, only questions. “How about we talk about you instead?” she suggested, smiling up at him.

  “Me? Surely there are more interesting topics of conversation.”

  “I would like to know more about you,” Jocelyn said shyly. And about Derek, she added silently.

  “Well, what would you like to know?”

  “Do you and Derek get on?” she asked, hoping he’d reveal the source of the tension she’d noticed between the brothers. Was it just normal sibling rivalry, or was there more to their bickering?

  “We do, for the most part. We’re just very different.”

  “In what way?” Jocelyn asked.

  “Derek is more like our father. Mother always says so, at any rate. He’s driven, and passionate in his beliefs. He has no patience for other people’s feelings or fears.”

  “And what are these beliefs that he’s so passionate about?” Jocelyn inquired carefully.

  Ben’s face clouded with displeasure. “I think you’d better ask him, if you really want to know. I thought you were interested in me.”

  “Your relationship with your brothers is about you,” Jocelyn replied, hoping to tease him out of his sulk. “Being the middle son must be hard. Derek is the man of the house, Josh is the baby, and you? What are you?”

  “I’m the one who gets things done,” Ben replied, somewhat mollified by her renewed interest in him. “Derek will inherit the farm, but he’s not a farmer at heart. He doesn’t love the land. And Josh, he just wants to run around and explore. Chores are just that—a chore.”

  “But you enjoy farming?”

  “I do. I love watching things grow. I’m happy living my life according to the laws of nature. Knowing that morning follows night, that one season comes after another, there’s beauty in
that, and a sense of peace. Whatever happens, no matter what manner of insanity men get up to, the sun will still rise in the east, and spring will come after winter.”

  Jocelyn wondered if he was referring to the war for independence but decided not to press him, since she wasn’t sure what her own position had been before the shipwreck. The thought of war momentarily stopped her in her tracks. No political discussions took place around the dinner table in the Wilder household, and aside from the small number of soldiers who were billeted in town, there was nothing to indicate that a conflict with the colonists was in progress, but she’d remembered there was a war on and had felt a momentary surge of something she couldn’t quite name. Excitement? Apprehension? Uncertainty? She was getting used to that last one, but the other emotions came as a surprise.

  “Are you all right?” Ben asked, watching her with concern. “You had this odd expression on your face.”

  “Yes. I’m fine,” Alice assured him. “Tell me about these rings you wear,” she invited, eager to distract him.

  Ben grinned, his eyes lighting with humor. “There’s a funny story behind the rings. Well, maybe not funny, exactly, but amusing. Typical of me and Derek, I suppose.”

  “Tell me,” Jocelyn said, glad she’d hit on something that had the power to brighten his mood and distract him from her own.

  “Derek and I always went to the beach in the summer once we’d finished our chores. We’d sun ourselves and swim until it was time to go home for supper. Well, one day—this was about ten years ago now—we were coming out of the water after a nice dip and spotted something shiny in the sand. We both ran for it, laughing and pushing each other out of the way. It was just something we did, always keeping an eye out for anything that might have washed up on the beach, and pretty shells to bring for mother.”

  “What was it?”

  “It was a shoe buckle. And a thing of beauty it was. Very finely wrought, almost delicate. We argued about who’d get to keep it until we got home and showed the buckle to Father. He examined it and proclaimed it to be silver. So, of course, now the argument escalated. We both wanted to hold on to it, although what we planned to do with a single shoe buckle never really figured into our reasoning. So, Father, very King Solomon-like, passed down a judgement. He said we’d have to split the buckle down the middle. That silenced us pretty quick. We just looked at each other, wondering what we were supposed to do with half a buckle. That’s when father suggested melting down the silver and making it into rings. He said we could keep the rings for ourselves or give them to our future wives as a symbol of our love for them.”

  “So, he had the rings made for you?”

  “In time. Once our hands were the hands of men and not boys. And there was enough silver left to make a cloak pin for Mother.”

  Jocelyn’s hand went to the pin at her throat. “What? This one?”

  “The very one,” Ben replied.

  “Must have been some buckle,” Jocelyn joked.

  “It was. Must have belonged to someone wealthy. We often wondered if the man had drowned.” Ben grew quiet, as though realizing what he’d just said. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s all right,” Jocelyn said, but the mention of drowning instantly brought her back to reality, reminding her that she had no idea what had happened to the father of her child. She couldn’t bear to focus on that now, so she thought back to something Hannah had mentioned last night. “Your mother said you’d lost someone,” she said softly.

  “I was to be wed,” Ben said quietly. “She died weeks before we were to be married. Drowned,” he added apologetically.

  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” Jocelyn said, gazing up at him. She could see the pain in his eyes. He must have loved her.

  “Life goes on,” Ben replied stoically. “I mean to find another love.” He looked at her in a way that suggested he already had, but thankfully refrained from saying anything that would put her on the spot.

  “So, what about Derek, then? He’s what, twenty-four?” Jocelyn asked, desperate to wheedle out some information about Derek using any means necessary.

  “Twenty-five.” Ben’s face grew serious. “Derek was married. His wife, Amy, died in childbirth three years ago, the child with her. A boy. Derek hasn’t taken an interest in anyone since, well, not until Lydia.”

  Learning that Derek had been married came as something of a surprise. No one had mentioned Amy or the baby, but it was a painful subject, especially if Derek was still grieving, so completely understandable. Derek’s feelings for Lydia Blackwell, on the other hand, were an entirely different matter.

  “Does Derek love Lydia?” Jocelyn asked.

  Ben shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I think she’s holding out for something better,” he said, reiterating the sentiment Hannah had expressed last night. Ben smiled wryly. “We’re not lucky in love, us Wilders.”

  “Will Derek marry her, do you think?” Jocelyn asked. Perhaps Ben’s view of Lydia was colored by his own feelings and the effect Derek’s marriage would have on him and his stake in the farm.

  “How should I know?” Ben snapped, glaring at her. “Why are you so interested in Derek all of a sudden?”

  Jocelyn sighed, suddenly bone tired. “I find myself living in your house, dependent on Derek’s goodwill. I’m worried he’ll ask me to leave, I suppose,” she said softly, hoping Ben would let go of his anger and see her side of it.

  “We’ll look after you, Alice,” Ben said vehemently. “Derek can be headstrong and impatient, but he’s not unkind. He’d never throw you out, but once you figure out where you belong, you’ll leave us. I know you will.”

  “You’ll be glad to see the back of me by then,” Jocelyn said, trying to tease Ben out of his somber mood.

  “No,” he said softly as he looked down at her. “Never.”

  “Ben, you hardly know me. I hardly know myself,” Jocelyn added, smiling bitterly.

  “I know enough,” Ben replied.

  “Shall we go back? I’m tired.”

  “Of course.”

  They walked back in companionable silence, but Jocelyn’s mind was busy turning over what she’d learned. She had to tread carefully, even more so than she’d initially imagined. Ben was bitterly jealous of his brother, and she didn’t want to be the next shoe buckle to come between them. Ben was already staking his claim and would fancy himself in love with her if Derek paid her any undue attention. Ben was the type of man for whom it was essential to feel needed and recognized. He was a caretaker, a protector, a defender of what was his, or what he perceived to be his. He wanted the farm for himself, and he wanted her. It didn’t require a great deal of perception to notice his territorial attitude toward her.

  Jocelyn huddled into the cloak as the wind picked up. She was shivering, but it wasn’t just from the cold. Just then, she wasn’t sure which brother she feared more.

  Chapter 27

  By the time Derek finally returned, Jocelyn’s nerves were so frayed, she thought there might be jagged tears in the fabric of her sanity. She couldn’t be bothered with subtlety or caution; she needed answers. She ran across the yard toward the stable, hoping Josh hadn’t beaten her to it, eager to see his brother. Derek was alone. He had already unhitched the horse and was pouring oats into a bucket as Jocelyn slipped inside.

  “How do you know my name?” she blurted out, coming as close to him as she dared. Her heart was hammering in her chest. Having worried about it all day, she still wasn’t sure what outcome she hoped for. If Derek really knew her, he could be the key to regaining her lost memories, but the knowledge would also give him power over her, which he might decide to abuse. She didn’t know him well enough to predict what he might do or how much danger she was in.

  “So, you do admit that’s your name,” Derek replied, infuriatingly calm.

  “I admit no such thing. I can’t remember my name. But you obviously do. How do you know me?” she demanded, hoping her false bravado masked her
fear.

  “I saw you.”

  “Where?”

  “At the John Street Theatre in New York City,” Derek replied, watching her carefully.

  Jocelyn absorbed this information, her mind trying desperately to conjure up an image of herself attending a performance in New York. It failed. She studied Derek’s expression. She didn’t get the impression he’d known her personally. Perhaps he’d known her husband. A tiny sliver of hope pierced the gloom in her heart.

  “Who was I with?” she asked, her voice pleading. “Was I there with my husband?”

  “Only if your husband was the leading actor,” Derek replied, his narrowed gaze fixed on her.

  “What do you mean?” Jocelyn asked, taken aback.

  “I mean, you were on the stage. You played the lead.”

  “What was the play?” she asked, stalling for time as her brain scrambled frantically to make sense of what Derek was telling her.

  “I can’t recall.”

  “But you remember my name?” Jocelyn persisted. “Do you remember the names of all the actors you see?”

  Derek smiled, his grin seductive. “I remember your name because you were the only one I saw that night. You were exquisite.”

  Jocelyn felt heat rising in her cheeks and was glad Derek couldn’t see her reaction in the dim confines of the stable. “Are you making fun of me?” she asked, suddenly realizing Derek could be making the whole thing up just to test her reaction. It was his turn to look surprised.

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe for the same reason you snuck into my room in the middle of the night to warn me off. Don’t worry, I won’t stay a day longer than I have to.” She was close to tears and hated that Derek could see her distress.

  He looked instantly contrite. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I’m sorry. I was just—”