Whitley passed, served herself and helped Mikey. Stewed meat in rich gravy, baby carrots fresh from the garden and sweet lettuce, also from the garden, followed. She enjoyed a taste of each.
“Mrs. Whitley, this is excellent. Thank you.”
“It’s ordinary fare. But thank you and please, would you call me Gram? I think it would be so much easier for you.”
“Thank you, Gram.”
“The young man, as well.” She reached for Mikey’s hand. “Would you like to call me Gram?”
His eyes widened. “My Gram?”
“Yes, I can be your gram if you like.”
“’Kay.” He gave a heartwarming smile then returned to enjoying his meal.
As they ate, both Gram and Jesse told her more about the town and the area. She suspected they hoped something they said would help her remember, but nothing came to her.
As soon as they finished, Gram brought them each a bowl of fresh raspberries with cream so thick they had to spoon it out of the bowl. Again, the raspberries made her remember a time of laughter and joy and an older woman. She closed her eyes and tried to get a clearer picture of the person she knew to be her grandmother. All that came was a merry laugh and a big red apron with generous pockets.
She opened her eyes to find Jesse and Gram watching her. Jesse’s eyes asked a silent question and she shook her head. “I hear laughter, but that is all.”
He held her gaze, his eyes full of encouragement. “It’s nice to know your first memories are of happy times in your life. I hope the rest of your memories are as happy and sweet when they come.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth to hold back a protest. When she could speak without giving away her fear, she said, “Seems too much to think I wouldn’t have my share of good and bad.”
“Every life needs both sunshine and rain. Just like my flowers out there,” Gram said.
“Described that way, I will try and be happy about both.” At the moment, she’d be glad to simply get her memory back.
But despite having said that, a shiver crossed her shoulders. There were times, she knew, that the bad could be so awful it was more like a destructive hailstorm than a nourishing rain.
Jesse must have read her thoughts, because he leaned forward. “Emily.”
She turned to him, immediately finding strength in his steady brown eyes.
“‘I will trust and not fear.’”
She nodded. “I have to keep reminding myself.”
“I’ll remind you as often as I think you need it.”
“Me, too,” Gram said.
“Mem, mem, mem, mem,” Mikey added and the adults all laughed.
When the meal was over, Jesse got to his feet. “I hate to leave you.” He spoke directly to Emily. “But I must make my rounds of the town. People need to know I am doing that part of my job.”
She rose, as well. “Of course. There is no need to worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
His smile was gentle. “I’ll be back shortly, unless there is trouble, which I don’t expect.”
She listened to his departing footsteps and the closing of the door then pulled her thoughts back to the kitchen. After all, she didn’t need his presence to feel safe.
Except she did. He had become her lifeline.
She dismissed the idea. At the moment she had no past and no future, but she had the present and she would face it without fear.
“I’ll help with dishes.”
Gram looked ready to refuse then nodded. “I expect it’s easier if you keep busy. You can wash. That way you won’t have to move around too much.”
As Emily scrubbed the dishes, she tried to think how she could manage a bath for Mikey and herself without asking for another favor from these kind people. But the dishes were done, the floor swept and the kitchen clean, and still she could think of no way.
Mikey had been playing with the toys, Muffin at his side. He rubbed his eyes and whined.
“He’s getting tired,” Emily said. “I need to get him ready for bed.”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“Would you mind if I heated enough water to give him a little bath?”
The door opened and closed, and Jesse entered in time to hear her request. “You will do no such thing. Sit down and amuse the little guy while I take care of the water.”
She opened her mouth to protest then sat. Fatigue had set in. “I take it the town was quiet.”
“Quiet as church. Good thing, too. Or you would be trying to deal with kettles of hot water.”
Gram snorted. “Do you really think I would have allowed that?”
Jesse seemed to remember his grandmother was in the room and chuckled. “I don’t suppose you would, but now I’m here and I’ll take care of it.” He gave Emily a stern look. “All of it.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but she was too weary to care.
“I’d like to spend a bit more time in my sewing room, so I’ll leave you two to manage.” Gram left the kitchen and soon could be heard singing softly in the other room.
Jesse put water on to heat then went outside and returned with a square washtub. He soon had several inches of warm water in it.
Emily lifted Mikey to her lap, kissed the top of his head and removed his dirty clothes.
With a giggle, he escaped her arms and ran across the room.
Emily was about to chase him when Jesse crossed the room in long strides and scooped the little boy into his arms.
“You little rascal. You come back here.” He tickled Mikey.
Jolly, belly-rolling chuckles indicated the boy’s enjoyment.
Emily laughed too. “He has the best laugh.”
Jesse grinned at her. “Just hearing it makes the world a better place.” He headed for the tub and Emily hurried to join him.
She fully intended to take care of washing Mikey, but Jesse knelt by the tub, too. Their arms brushed.
He looked at her, something warm and sweet in his eyes.
She jerked her gaze to the little boy. She understood what was going on. Lost, without memory, she clung to the man who had saved her. He made her feel safe. But it meant nothing.
Jesse grabbed the bar of soap while Emily sorted out her thoughts. He lathered up the boy and rinsed him off. All the while, Mikey chattered away and splashed.
Emily wiped water from her face and stole a look at Jesse. Liquid dripped from his chin. The front of his shirt was dark with water. He turned his head to wipe his face on his shoulder and looked straight into her eyes. He grinned. “Happy child. Wet adults. Is this the usual mix?”
“I think so.” She held his gaze and caught her breath. Her answer had come swiftly and surely, as if she was speaking from experience. But no memory came. “I’ll wash his hair.” She bent Mikey backward and scrubbed the dirt from his head.
“You certainly know how to handle him.”
She lifted him from the tub and wrapped a towel about him. “I suppose it indicates something. I just wish I knew what.” She stared at the tub of water and remembered laughter and joy. She had bathed a child in a tub like this.
She sat back on her heels. “I remember bathing children.” Her eyes refused to blink as she looked