Page 14 of His Unforgettable Bride (Bride Ships: New Voyages #4)

Fourteen

If you wish to be a well-bred lady, you must carry your good manners everywhere with you. It is not a thing that can be laid aside and put on at pleasure.

I t was hard to pick what was sweeter—Icala fawning over his lovely wife who was expecting a baby or the slice of apple pie Juliet devoured minutes ago. The sisters had her deliver a care package to the couple on the following lazy, late Sunday afternoon, and now she was eager to return home.

As much as she told herself it wasn’t to see Gray, she was having doubts. It was trite to say so, but he made every day brighter. And who didn’t lean toward the light? Well, probably plenty, now that she thought about it.

Sighing, she veered off the road and tiptoed to avoid the swampy grass. To the best she could gauge, she headed southeast toward town. Skeletal trees loomed as she hurried down a dirt path, drawing her shawl tighter around her neck.

A large sandbar curved on a horseshoe beach. The sunset of yellows and oranges reflected on the water and beamed on shells and scattered debris. She turned toward the thick, towering woods.

A tall man exited the stand of trees and approached. Juliet paused, squinting at him until he waved his hand high above his head. “Hello.” His familiar voice echoed.

Gray. What a pleasant development.

As she waved back, her eyes focused on his form. More accurately, his broad shoulders. “Hello, yourself. Are you coming to fetch me?”

Admittedly, she admired his appearance and liked that he stood taller than her. Not all men did—the reverend, for example. And the scruffy manliness of Gray’s whiskers—she liked that, too. Not to mention the gleam that sparkled in his lively golden-brown eyes whenever he grinned.

No, she didn’t mind that for a heartbeat.

He’d donned a too-short shirt, suit coat, and trousers that rode inches above his ankles. Still, he was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen. Tabitha had ordered him better-fitting clothing that hadn’t arrived yet. “Is it not the gentlemanly thing to do?”

When he reached her, she fell into step beside him. “I could have managed on my own. Do the sisters know you came after me?”

“Once I suggested my plan to Livy, she thoroughly supported the idea. How is Icala’s ailing wife?”

“She’s expecting a baby and can’t keep any food in her belly. Poor thing.” Juliet had never pictured herself in such a condition. What if she fell in love, wed, and expected a child one day, only to orphan the little one?

The thought made her nauseous, much like Icala’s wife, perhaps. No, she couldn’t think about that. “What’s happening back at the house?”

“When I left, Livy was beating Cy at checkers, and Tabitha was?—”

“Reading a book.”

“Indeed.”

“And you?”

Gray shot her a look. “I was attempting to sketch the lettering on the sign for the tea shop but kept worrying about you.”

Her brow rose. “Me?”

“Indeed.”

The past week had been busy with construction inside the tearoom. Cy and Gray worked from well before daybreak to after dusk each evening, except on Sundays. Now that Icala had rearranged his schedule, he hoped to start helping with the construction, too.

Although it had been evident to everyone that first morning that Gray had not known much about carpentry, he learned quickly under Cy’s direction. By midweek, he’d been measuring, sawing, and hammering as if doing so his whole life. Was that the confirmation they had been waiting for that he was really Alex? Or was Gray merely a quick learner?

With him in the lead, they entered the wooded area, the temperature dropping and the light dimming. There were other routes home, though far longer than the one they now journeyed. Gray raised a branch high enough for her to pass underneath before releasing the springy limb.

Before he started forward again, he reached for her hand. “Holding hands…for safety’s sake might be helpful.”

She glanced down at where his fingers encircled hers. His skin was soft, cool, a perfect fit. “For safety, huh?”

“Precisely.” Under the canopy of thick brush, his eyes seemed to challenge her, daring her not to pull away. “It is quite dangerous here.”

“You’re right.” She lifted her chin and challenged him back. “I was frightened for my life the whole way to Icala’s.”

“I am told the raccoons and squirrels are actually vicious in this part of the woods.”

“Is that so?” She tried not to smile, but it wasn’t working well.

As he started forward again, she didn’t pull away from him, but suspected she probably should.

A moment later, when she stepped too quickly down an incline and stumbled, his fingers tightened around hers. “Mind where you step.”

“You do the same. We don’t need you falling and hitting your head again.”

He smirked over his shoulder. “Is that why you haven’t tugged your hand free from mine?”

“Partly.” Why hadn’t she? Try as she might, she couldn’t think of a single reason. “Honestly, why are you holding my hand? And don’t tell me it’s for my safety.”

He shrugged. “I did not intend to. But you were so pretty standing there that I acted on impulse.”

She was so pretty?

Her stomach fluttered with strange flips. Why had he paid her such a compliment now?

She wasn’t the type who went around gripping hands with fellows. But maybe hand-holding was run-of-the-mill for him. With his good looks, he probably always had women eager to connect with him one way or another.

Should she slip her hand free? A part of her said yes, but the other part wanted to enjoy the private moment in the woods together. They seldom had time by themselves. “If we fail to return home in a timely manner, the sisters might hire a native scout, a bounty hunter, or the Royal Navy to track us down.”

He chuckled. “I doubt it. Livy knows I came to protect you.”

Juliet rolled her eyes, even though it wasn’t mannerly. “I’ve managed on my own for years and years. I didn’t need a hero then nor now.”

“I am not saying you do.” He flashed her a wry grin. “Although I have no recollection of the occurrence, you rescued me from the woods. So if anyone is a hero or heroine, the title belongs to you.”

“That’s true.”

He was quiet for several steps, then spoke again, this time more solemnly. “Nightfall shall arrive soon. For all we know, whoever stole my belongings and possibly bashed my head still roams the area, intent on robbing others. I want you to promise not to leave the house alone after dark, moving forward.”

Slightly dumbfounded, she blinked. The man had a right to his opinion, but she had no intention of promising him anything—not today or tomorrow. And yet she knew he only had her best interest at heart. “It is not your place to tell me what to do. Besides, I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing just that for a very long time.”

“I realize you are capable.” Gray held another low-hanging branch as Juliet ducked underneath. “But whoever assaulted me is clearly dangerous. And I would feel better if you did not wander alone, especially in the woods.”

“I pray whoever attacked you is long gone and never returns.”

“Me too.” But something in his voice said he didn’t think that was likely.

Was it possible that whoever had harmed Gray in the first place might return to injure him again?

They exited the thick woodland a moment later and dusted pine needles from their shoulders and clothing. The lowering sun filtered through the web of trees, casting Gray’s face in light and shadows. Had he ever looked more alluring?

Not in her eyes.

It wasn’t one singular feature that attracted her to him. It was the combination of all his best qualities, especially his earnest eyes and how he always treated her so kindly.

Even so, no matter how much she liked Gray, she couldn’t give in to her attraction to him. Not with his amnesia. Not while everything about his future was uncertain. Not so soon after the start of her new job. Not when the sisters were investing in her. And not when she was beginning to establish herself despite the threat of Ruby ruining everything.

* * *

Alone with Juliet on the edge of the woods, Gray told himself to keep his wits front and center in his thoughts. She tempted and distracted him without seeming to try. He brushed a stray pine needle from her headscarf. “All gone.”

“I’m much obliged.” Her voice was wry with the humor he loved about her. “I’d hate to return home bedraggled. What would the sisters think?”

That they had frolicked in the woods? Kissed underneath a pine tree? Lost themselves in each other’s eyes and arms?

“I cannot imagine.” They strode a few paces to reach a carriage pathway winding through Royal Park, across the street from their home. They strode past scattered trees, a cricket field, stone benches, and a wandering stream.

They needed a safe topic of conversation to keep his thoughts off his expanding attraction to her. Of course nothing was wrong with admiring her, but he preferred not to mislead Juliet. He had one primary goal—to uncover his past. Everything else could and would have to wait. “Have Tabitha and Livy relaxed their teaching methods a measure?”

“Mostly, though Tabitha is still stricter than Livy. But no complaints from me, and I am tremendously grateful. Before you know it, I’ll be someone better.”

His stomach muscles clenched at the word better . “Everyone on this side of heaven has imperfections. Becoming well-mannered doesn’t make someone better, not deep down.”

“You know what I mean.”

Did he? “The lessons shall refine you and help you navigate polite society, but you shall always be you.”

“Ugh.”

His brow arched. “I cannot imagine why you said that. You are…wonderfully made.”

After an eternity, she spoke quietly. “Are you simply nice to me because I rescued you?”

Was he? Partially, for certain. “At first, I suppose, but I have grown to like you for you.”

“For me?”

“Indeed.” Some may say she lacked finesse. But to him, her unpolished parts contributed to her character and made her unique. His intuition spoke loudly and clearly—he was not the type of man who gravitated toward sophisticated women who said all the right words at all the correct times.

Why? Perhaps because such a person, male or female, sounded rather dull. But where and when had he interacted with refined women to draw such a conclusion? The answer escaped him like many, many others.

“Before you and I met, my grandfather was the only man who’d truly rallied on my behalf. Like him, you’re a decent man, Gray.”

“A high compliment.” He hoped she spoke the truth, but deep inside, he still felt disappointed, maybe even a failure. Why, specifically? Because he may have broken the law or for another reason? “I have doubts sometimes, but thank you.”

“It’s true. You are decent—most of the time.” Her eyes glimmered with teasing. “Though I wasn’t as convinced when we first met.”

Despite her playful comment, a hollowness echoed inside him. He had not uncovered one concrete fact to confirm his identity, and far too few memories had sprouted. Questions tangled him in knots. Had he ever fallen in love? Had his heart broken? Did he dare open himself up to such opportunities again or for the first time?

Gray shoved his hands into his trouser pockets. When did a man with amnesia start to look forward instead of backward? And how would he know when to move on with his life? He had no idea, and likely nobody else did, either.

A stone bridge arched over a brook in the middle of the park, and they climbed the short ridge to reach the top. Water gurgled below, and the wind now carried a chill.

“I wish I had something warmer to offer you.” He started to shrug out of his suit coat.

She stopped him with a touch to his arm. “I have my shawl and need nothing more since I donned a wool underskirt. It’s adorable with red and black stripes, yet I cannot imagine Tabitha ever wearing it. For one thing, it’s not brown. If you haven’t noticed, that’s her favorite color.”

He had not. Of course, mentioning her underclothing, particularly to a single young man, was highly improper. But he was not the etiquette teacher, and she was not a student tonight.

They were equals.

She leaned over the bridge’s side, her skirt riding higher to reveal her muddy shoes and pretty ankles. “The water isn’t frozen yet, and I see a few geese, though they appear asleep.”

Dragging his eyes from her hemline, he copied her stance. Their shoulders brushed, and neither of them pulled away. Big and little rocks lined the banks, the slumbering geese tucked between the stones for shelter. “Last night Icala identified these birds as Canada geese.”

“Like Tabitha, he knows plenty about this and that.” She paused. “From what I can tell, you’re becoming good friends with Icala and Cy.”

His brow rose. “It is not unlike our friendship. We are good friends too, are we not?”

“I like surrounding myself with a few good hearts instead of collecting too many acquaintances. Only a handful of people have fallen into the slot.”

Was she slighting him, uninterested in pursuing a friendship? “I am unsure what else to call us.”

“Two people who temporarily reside in the same house. Two lost souls. And two folks who help each other. Dad-blamed, Gray, you’re right, though I’ve never had a male friend before.”

He openly assessed her. The longer he stared, the warmer the night turned. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Sooner or later, the men in Everly, including the reverend, shall pound on the sisters’ front door. After spending time in your presence, I suspect you shall linger on their minds for perhaps…forever.”

She pressed her hand against her chest, perhaps her heart. “What are you saying?”

Had he admitted he had romantic notions about Juliet or only implied he thought other men might one day? As much as he longed to tell her he would never forget her, he could not. His life was too uncertain.

The best course forward was friendship. “I am simply saying I already count you as my friend, perhaps even more so than Icala or Cy.”

They gazed at one another as a current snapped between them. Was he the only one who felt the chemistry, an indisputable tug in the other person’s direction? Maybe. Either way, she had the most enticing lips and stood a breath away from him.

A fine-toned bell rang in the evening’s stillness, and another chimed in tune, followed by more music. Juliet stepped backward a pace with her chin cocked. “Church bells are always so beautiful.”

“I concur.”

“Do they play a particular song? I think so.” A few more notes echoed. “If I’m not mistaken, the ditty is called ‘Home, Sweet Home.’”

In silence, they listened until Juliet sang the lyrics softly.

No more from that cottage again will I roam. Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.

Juliet retied the scarf’s knot underneath her chin. “A sailor on the bride ship sang this tune frequently on our journey, drumming up memories of my grandfather. At the end of his workday, he always said, ‘Let’s go home to the best place on earth.’ And it was.”

“A cherished memory, indeed.”

“We resided across the road from a church.” Melancholy threaded through her voice. “I fell in love with the bells. Grandfather often said on Sundays, ‘God is calling us to church, Juliet. Let’s not keep Him waiting.’”

Was that a tear in her eye? “I see how much you still miss him.”

“Yes.” She lightly placed her hand on his sleeve. “But I wonder who you miss.”

He waited for a face, a name to enter his thoughts. But nothing resembling a memory arrived. “I shall table your question for a later date.”

He glanced toward the sisters’ house across from the park, though he could not see it from where they stood. “I hate to leave. However, I suppose we should be on our way.”

“Of course. The sisters will want to know that we haven’t taken a fancy to one another and lost all track of time.” Juliet strode down the bridge’s slope, her laughter ringing.

Gray, on the other hand, remained transfixed, then smiled at her cheekiness. As much as he wanted to rush after her and confirm what she just declared, at least on his part, to do so at this point would be unfair to them both.