Page 21 of His Unforgettable Bride
“Yes, and a multitude of other subjects. I’ve always had a keen interest in the sciences, and our dear father helped secure whatever reading material I sought.”
“How long does it take for someone’s memory to return?” The sweet voice entered the conversation.
“It’s impossible to know,” replied the firm woman. “A few days, weeks, months…”
Months? His heartbeat accelerated. Although not well-versed in amnesia facts, he assumed his state was a temporary inconvenience. Not a life-altering, forever type of problem. He breathed in steadily, hoping to counter his anxiety. If he gazed at his possible aunts, would they look familiar, even vaguely?
“But surely it will return in time.” Unmistakable hope wound through Juliet’s words, and he longed to share her sentiment.
He suddenly wanted to open his eyes and gaze upon her again. She offered something to hold on to, a connection he desperately needed. Maybe because she had been the first person he had viewed after regaining consciousness?
“I wonder if anyone is looking for him,” Juliet said. “Is your nephew married?”
“Not according to his last letter,” the sister with medical knowledge said. “The good news is the young man appears strong, and his body will heal, I assume. Perhaps faster than his brain. We’ll need to watch for seizures and avoid additional bumps to his head.”
Not married—the answer to one question. Although it was impossible to know for certain, he sensed he was not wed. And the last thing he intended to do was injure his head again.
“We’ll ensure that doesn’t happen,” the sweet-voiced sister remarked earnestly. “Alex is coming to us for a fresh start, and I believe nobody in town should know about his past crimes.” The lady heaved a breath. “Poor, poor Alex.”
A wave of dread and a sense of guilt struck his core. Was hepoor, poor Alex? A felon? He fastened his hands onto the sheets. He had to resist the sleepiness that beckoned. Otherwise, he would not learn more about the offenses.
A soft hand touched his brow, and he opened his blurry eyes, straining to focus.
Three women gazed back at him. One garbed in lace, another in brown, and Juliet, smiling as radiantly as the sunshine streaming through the windowpane behind her.
“Good morning,” said the shortest of three—the one with the sweet voice—as she withdrew her hand from his forehead. “How is our patient this fine day?”
His throat scratched, and he covered his mouth and coughed. “Excuse me. Recovering, I believe, and grateful to see sunshine again.”
“Indeed.” A tall woman with a tight face and gold watch pinned to her bodice stood behind the other two. “I’m Tabitha, and this is my sister Livy.” She nodded to her sibling. “I believe you met Juliet a few hours prior.”
He forced a weak smile, letting his gaze linger on Juliet as he admired her shiny locks, bright eyes, and the simple dress that showed off her enticing figure. “Yes, she met my immediate needs.”
Juliet’s chin cocked to a discerning angle again. “Are you thanking me?”
Apparently, he should have. “Yes. Was that not clear?”
“More muddy than clear. Any chance your memories returned?”
He searched his brain, hoping to awaken the slumbering part, and studied his long fingers and hands. Not a callus anywhere. Did he not labor for a wage? Where was he from? What was his lot in life?
He waited for the answers to arrive as he had the last time. But nothing came to him, not even the barest of specifics. Disappointment rushed through him. “I continue to lack details about my life.”
Livy gently fluffed his pillow. “We’re expecting our nephew Alex any day now. He’s coming to help convert our carriage house into a tearoom since he has carpentry skills. I, for one, believe you’re him.”
A carpenter. Like Jesus. Livy had given him a name and a profession. Was the information a starting point to rebuild his life or aiming him in the wrong direction?
“They’ve not seen their brother’s son, for many years.” Juliet had pulled her hair back into a long tail and played with the end. “It’s why they’re uncertain about your genuine identity. We may have to wait until you can tell us the truth yourself one day.”
His eyes roamed between the sisters, who appeared nothing alike. One was tall and the other short. One was thinner than a single portion of bread, and the other resembled the whole loaf. One stood stiff, and the other fluttered nonstop. “Although I do not recognize either of you, perhaps I resemble your brother or his wife.”
Livy said, “Yes,” as Tabitha uttered, “No.”
“What if you examined yourself in a mirror?” Juliet nodded as if to urge him to agree to her suggestion. “Seeing your reflection could poke at a memory or two.”
“A wonderful idea, Juliet.” Livy beamed. “There’s one on the top of my bureau in the room to the left at the front of the house. Will you please collect it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” She twirled and hurried from the room as she did last night when she delivered his water. But today, she wore shoes, stockings, and a long skirt.
