Rocky Mountain Memories. Lois Richer

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       Chapter Three

      For the next two days, Jake stayed away from The Haven, trying to catch up with his work and hoping to give Gemma time to absorb everything in her world. But with each day that passed, his concern about her ramped up. Somebody had to do something.

      Though he’d called the local doctor after Gemma had fainted, though she’d been given a thorough checkup and she had pooh-poohed his concern, he worried. She did look and sound fine, yet she seemed somehow diminished. Apparently her interest in Alexa had also lapsed because she remained silent on that issue.

      “Want to check out our fishing hole this afternoon?” Jake had asked yesterday when he’d seen her sitting on the deck. He’d pointed out the spot, expecting she’d jump at the chance to resume her favorite activity.

      “I just showered. I’ll get dirty scrabbling down that hill,” she’d mumbled, barely meeting his gaze. “Anyway, Adele’s a chef. She doesn’t need me to bring home supper.”

      Excuses made, Gemma had resumed staring across the valley.

      It seemed to Jake that she couldn’t muster the strength to move on with her life. Since Tillie and Margaret gave the impression they were perfectly content to let their foster daughter float through the days, Jake felt it was up to him to help her snap out of it. Which was why when he found Gemma in the kitchen near noon today, still swathed in her bathrobe, he discarded his white-glove treatment.

      “Since you’re not busy, can you help me out?” He was relieved that his peremptory tone jarred her from her vacant stare through the massive window to the distant mountains.

      “Help you out with what?” Though Gemma looked at him, her gaze was hazy, unfocused.

      “With my work here at The Haven.” It was the only thing he could think of to motivate her. “I’m behind.”

      “Because you took time off to come get me.” As he’d expected, Gemma immediately jerked upright. Twin dots of color appeared in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’ve been selfish, haven’t I?” She sounded more like herself. “I don’t know that much about your work, or anything else for that matter. But I’ll help however I can if you’ll show me what to do.”

      “For starters, get dressed. Old clothes. We’ll be working in the dirt.” Jake lifted one eyebrow when she simply sat there. “Well?”

      “Dressed. Got it.” Gemma rose and strode across the room. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and turned. “Will you wait here, or should I find you?”

      “I’m already late,” he told her in a brusque tone that he despised but used because it seemed to be shocking her out of her dazed lethargy. “Find me in the garden.”

      “The garden.” She didn’t move. “Uh, the garden is...?”

      He pointed.

      “Right. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Gemma promised.

      “Wear a sun hat,” he called after her retreating form.

      “Do you think that was wise, dear?” Tillie murmured.

      Jake whirled to find the aunts standing behind him, both wearing disapproving frowns. They’d obviously overheard his less than gentle tone. Jake mentally grimaced, hating that he’d caused that look of strain on their sweet faces.

      “Gemma needs to be busy, to be doing something,” he explained gently. “Sitting around, waiting for her memory to return isn’t helping her.”

      “What if it doesn’t return?” Margaret’s hushed tone revealed her concern.

      “Ladies,” Jake chided with a smile. “Where’s your faith?” He was rewarded with their nods. “Until Gemma’s memory returns, she needs a purpose. Maybe gardening will give her that.” Did he sound more certain than he felt? “It’s better than doing nothing,” he offered belatedly.

      “Yes, it is,” Tillie agreed.

      “Thank you for trying to help, Jake,” Margaret added. “We’ve been afraid to push Gemma. Shame on us for our lack of faith in God.”

      “It’s time we prayed about this in a different way, sister.” Tillie slipped her hand in Margaret’s arm and drew her out of the room. A moment later Gemma appeared clad in raggedy jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie and a sun hat he hadn’t seen for years.

      “I thought you said you weren’t waiting,” she accused, her megawatt smile flashing. “The aunts,” she guessed. “They waylaid me, too.” She waved a piece of delicate pink notepaper.

      “A Bible verse?” Jake guessed as he held the door for her to exit The Haven.

      “Uh-huh.” She handed it over so he could read the spidery script.

      Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.

      “Psalm 139.” Jake handed back the note which Gemma folded and tucked into her back pocket.

      “You know it?” She seemed surprised, yet her stride matched his and she never faltered.

      “Sure, СКАЧАТЬ