Page 39 of A Forgotten Heart
It shouldn’t hurt so badly that Nick had never told his family about their whirlwind courtship. She’d kept him a secret too.Even Darcy didn’t know the identity of the man who’d broken her heart.
Elsie raised her chin. “We are barely acquaintances.”
Not even that. Not anymore.
Rebekah’s brows drew together in puzzlement. “But?—”
“Thank you for the towel,” Elsie said quickly.
Rebekah looked as if she would say something else but then pinched her lips. “Of course.”
She left Elsie alone in the tiny upstairs bedroom.
It was only after the door clicked closed that Elsie’s face crumpled and she buried her face in the towel.
Everything she’d experienced in the past days poured out in silent tears.
What would Nick tell his family when his memories returned?
Ed and Rebekah were full of questions, and Elsie couldn’t give them the answers they wanted. Nor did she want to imagine the anger and disdain on their expressions—an echo of what she’d seen from Nick three days ago.
She needed to leave. But she didn’t know how to do that—unless Nick fell asleep. Then she’d excuse herself and go home.
She left Rebekah’s dress on the bed and did the best she could to dry her skirts with the towel. She didn’t want to go back out there. Face more questions.
But she must.
Nick awakened with a start.
The sunlight streaming through the loft window slanted at a different angle, increasing the throb in his head. Was it late afternoon already?
Where—
It came to him. Ed and…Rebekah’s? He still couldn’t understand how Ed had ended up married to his childhood rival.
He reached down to find Patch curled up on the floor next to him. Where his dog usually lay. How could he remember that but not his brother’s wife?
He curled his fingers into Patch’s fur, trying to ground his thoughts.
How long had he been sleeping?
Squinting against the light, Nick scanned the room for Elsie. She wouldn’t leave, would she?
His eyes landed on her in a nearby chair, asleep with her head tipped to one side.
He released a long sigh and watched her sleeping form.
The sun reflected off her strawberry-blonde hair, strands escaping her braid to frame her face. Her eyelashes fanned across her rosy cheeks, and his heart swelled.
Why hadn’t she told him they weren’t married? How had she come to teach in Calvin?
Memories teased him from the edge of his mind, as if a nudge would set them all free.
Did he want to know?
A recent memory of Elsie with her face turned away sprang up.
Low voices drew his attention. Ed and Rebekah sat at a tiny kitchen table across the room. He couldn’t quite hear what they were saying.
