Read Online Leave it for the Rain: A Love She Couldn't Remember—A Woman He Couldn't Forget (Grayson Brothers Book 6) by Wendy Lindstrom - Free Book Online
Authors: Wendy Lindstrom
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punctuated by a relentless tick-tock-tick-tock from the grandfather clock in the parlor. Dazed, their conversations brief and hushed, Adam and Rebecca’s family cycled from the parlor to the porch to Rebecca’s bedside and back to the kitchen.
Faith brought food, but only the children ate before scurrying outside.
Grandma Grayson, mother to the Grayson men, grandmother to Rebecca—and Adam by adoption—took charge of the house and the children, holding all of them together with her great love and no-nonsense manner.
Throughout the day and evening, the screen door spring twanged as Rebecca’s younger siblings slipped in and out of the house. For a few minutes at a time, Adam could hear the youngest siblings, Sarah, Emma, and Tyler playing in the yard, their bubbly laughter signaling the moments when they were distracted from the frightening drama happening inside the house. Then, as if they suddenly remembered the drawn, worried expressions on their parents’ faces, they would grow quiet for a spell.
Inside, Adam engaged in a smattering of conversation with the doctor as the man checked and reported on Rebecca’s progress throughout the day. It didn’t take many words to say “no change,” but the doctor was patient with their unending questions. Together, Rebecca’s family and Adam listened closely to Doc Milton’s warning that he couldn’t promise anything. Even if Rebecca woke up, he couldn’t accurately gauge her condition. Head wounds were tricky and unpredictable, he told them again and again.
So they waited without answers. They prayed for Rebecca to recover quickly and completely and to awaken soon.
Each of them by turn sat at her bedside, stroking her hand, watching the gray around her eyes deepen to black. Their own eyes were circled with dark rings of exhaustion and worry.
Finally, Evelyn left the chair she’d occupied nearly every minute of the past thirty hours. “I need to check on the children, Adam. Would you mind sitting with Rebecca for a few minutes?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Of course not,” he said, quietly. “I appreciate you letting me stay with her. I know that being here in her private chambers is... unacceptable.”
“Under the circumstances, I can’t see the harm.” A small, sad smile touched her lips, and she patted his shoulder. “I’ll send her father up again. He doesn’t like to be away from her for more than a minute or two.”
“I know the feeling.”
Evelyn paused and stroked her hand over his aching back. “I know you do, Adam.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You belong here with Rebecca as much as any of us.” With that, she left the room.
This was Adam’s first moment alone with Rebecca since the accident. He cupped her limp hand in his. He wanted to apologize for not protecting her, for being selfish. Tenderly, he stroked her brow and whispered her name.
Her moan startled him. Had he unintentionally hurt her?
She released another low moan.
“Rebecca?” he called softly, hopefully.
She remained as unresponsive as she’d been since the accident.
He talked to her, quietly calling her name, asking her to open her beautiful eyes, finally falling silent in the knowledge that she was drifting in a black void from which not even he could free her.
Slowly, he looked around her bedchamber, seeing a pretty blue night robe trimmed in white lace hanging from the back of her door. Her scuffed riding boots stood in a corner by an oak armoire, and beside that sat the small chest he’d made for her out of rosewood and cedar. She said she kept his letters in the trunk, and he wondered if she’d reread the notes and lingered over them as he had done with her letters.
A small mahogany flip top dressing table stood against the wall opposite the bed, and Adam imagined Rebecca sitting there brushing her long hair. A small and worn book sat on the right side of the table, with her worry stone resting atop it. He picked
Faith brought food, but only the children ate before scurrying outside.
Grandma Grayson, mother to the Grayson men, grandmother to Rebecca—and Adam by adoption—took charge of the house and the children, holding all of them together with her great love and no-nonsense manner.
Throughout the day and evening, the screen door spring twanged as Rebecca’s younger siblings slipped in and out of the house. For a few minutes at a time, Adam could hear the youngest siblings, Sarah, Emma, and Tyler playing in the yard, their bubbly laughter signaling the moments when they were distracted from the frightening drama happening inside the house. Then, as if they suddenly remembered the drawn, worried expressions on their parents’ faces, they would grow quiet for a spell.
Inside, Adam engaged in a smattering of conversation with the doctor as the man checked and reported on Rebecca’s progress throughout the day. It didn’t take many words to say “no change,” but the doctor was patient with their unending questions. Together, Rebecca’s family and Adam listened closely to Doc Milton’s warning that he couldn’t promise anything. Even if Rebecca woke up, he couldn’t accurately gauge her condition. Head wounds were tricky and unpredictable, he told them again and again.
So they waited without answers. They prayed for Rebecca to recover quickly and completely and to awaken soon.
Each of them by turn sat at her bedside, stroking her hand, watching the gray around her eyes deepen to black. Their own eyes were circled with dark rings of exhaustion and worry.
Finally, Evelyn left the chair she’d occupied nearly every minute of the past thirty hours. “I need to check on the children, Adam. Would you mind sitting with Rebecca for a few minutes?” she asked, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Of course not,” he said, quietly. “I appreciate you letting me stay with her. I know that being here in her private chambers is... unacceptable.”
“Under the circumstances, I can’t see the harm.” A small, sad smile touched her lips, and she patted his shoulder. “I’ll send her father up again. He doesn’t like to be away from her for more than a minute or two.”
“I know the feeling.”
Evelyn paused and stroked her hand over his aching back. “I know you do, Adam.” She leaned down and kissed his cheek. “You belong here with Rebecca as much as any of us.” With that, she left the room.
This was Adam’s first moment alone with Rebecca since the accident. He cupped her limp hand in his. He wanted to apologize for not protecting her, for being selfish. Tenderly, he stroked her brow and whispered her name.
Her moan startled him. Had he unintentionally hurt her?
She released another low moan.
“Rebecca?” he called softly, hopefully.
She remained as unresponsive as she’d been since the accident.
He talked to her, quietly calling her name, asking her to open her beautiful eyes, finally falling silent in the knowledge that she was drifting in a black void from which not even he could free her.
Slowly, he looked around her bedchamber, seeing a pretty blue night robe trimmed in white lace hanging from the back of her door. Her scuffed riding boots stood in a corner by an oak armoire, and beside that sat the small chest he’d made for her out of rosewood and cedar. She said she kept his letters in the trunk, and he wondered if she’d reread the notes and lingered over them as he had done with her letters.
A small mahogany flip top dressing table stood against the wall opposite the bed, and Adam imagined Rebecca sitting there brushing her long hair. A small and worn book sat on the right side of the table, with her worry stone resting atop it. He picked
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