A Love for Rebecca (29 page)

She noticed a shirt hanging from a nail. It looked like the one Kenzie was wearing the day she’d first seen him at the river. It was well worn, but she was sure it was the one. She’d spent many hours recalling the scenes from their brief life together, scenes engraved in her heart.

She pressed the shirt to her chest, sniffing it, hoping to catch Kenzie’s scent. But the fabric gave off only the pleasing odor of wood. Particles of sawdust tickled her nose. She sneezed twice and hung the shirt back up.

She moved the lighted screen to the right and saw some gloves on a shelf. She skimmed them with her fingers and continued analyzing the various objects. As she did so, she noticed a large shape covered with burlap. She picked up a corner of the rough fabric; the weak light from her phone illuminated a broken drum.

Rebecca was shaken at the sight. Lola’s words about what had happened that day came back to her clearly. She imagined him furious, destroying the drum after she’d told him she wasn’t coming back. She remembered the moment when she had to pretend she was cold and indifferent to his pain. She trembled. But what could she have done differently? It had broken her heart, but she had had to say good-bye.

Seeing the drum saddened her, and she wondered if any of the rage he had unleashed on it remained. What was she doing here? Most likely Kenzie hated her. She couldn’t get the thought out of her head.

Rebecca checked the time: eight thirty. The fear she’d been holding at bay rose up. Maybe all this was a bad omen: the rain, the empty house, the drum . . . Everything seemed to indicate that her presence would not be welcome. She should have listened to the taxi driver and gone back.

She decided to leave and made her way, stumbling, out of the shed and down the gravel road. She tried to use her phone, but it was dead. Opening her umbrella and clutching it, she made her way toward the highway. She was breathing hard and fighting with the umbrella as the wind buffeted it. The sound of a tree limb snapping startled her. She quickened her pace, fearing a branch might come crashing down on her. A strong gust of wind turned her umbrella inside out. She fought to control it as she felt the water seeping into her clothes. She didn’t notice a vehicle approaching until its headlights illuminated her in the road.
Don’t let it be him!
ran through her head like a prayer.

REDEMPTION

She was soaked and fighting the stupid umbrella when the vehicle passed her and pulled onto the shoulder. Her heart flipped when she recognized the blue Nissan pickup in the dark; Mrs. Munro had mentioned that he still had it.

She felt like crying as she continued fighting the wind. She heard the car door slam, and her heart pounded furiously in her chest.

A figure walked toward her in the dark. “Do you need help? I can take you to town.”

His voice was all she heard. Not the cracking limbs, not the roar of the wind, not the sound of the rain. His voice. She knew he would recognize her, but there was no way to avoid it. “Yes, I need help. I can’t control this damn umbrella.”

Kenzie froze on the spot.

Rebecca managed to collapse the umbrella; it was of no use in these conditions anyway.

“Rebecca?”

She met his gaze. “Yes, it’s me.”

Kenzie stood rooted to the earth. She stepped closer. He was wearing a wool cap and the same coat he had on in the photo her father had given her.

“What . . . what are you doing here?”

“I’ll explain, but could we get out of the rain first?”

He stood there another moment, transfixed. She would have given anything to know what was going on in his mind. He shook his head, still incredulous. Then he moved quickly to the truck. “Get in.”

She followed him to the truck and crossed in front of him as he opened the door for her to get inside. She didn’t dare look up, but she felt his eyes on her.

Inside the truck, she was immediately warmed. Without comment, he drove the short distance to the house. Rebecca listened to the sound of crunching gravel, suspecting she looked frightful.

They stopped in front of the house. Kenzie ran around and opened her door, taking her arm as she stepped out. Then he crossed quickly to his front door and went inside, leaving the door open.

She followed him in and closed the door behind her. She had never been inside, and her first impression when he turned on some lights was that it looked like the house in Skye—rustic furniture, simple and practical décor.

Kenzie used a pinecone and kindling to start a fire. Once he got it going, he added a couple of small logs. He took off his coat and cap. His copper-colored hair was mussed and threw off reflections from the yellow lamplight. His shorter hairstyle gave him a more mature look. He still had the same athletic build and graceful movements.

She understood from his body language and the serious set to his face that he wasn’t happy to see her. She felt a naïve stupidity for having thought anything else would happen. But she couldn’t turn back now.

The fire began throwing off heat. He moved a chair in front of it. “Come closer,” he said.

She took off her dripping wet raincoat and placed it on a wooden chair next to the wall. She sat down, intimidated by his scrutinizing gaze.

Kenzie studied her. He saw that she was different, more womanly. Her clothing clung to her, showing breasts that were fuller and hips that were wider than he remembered. Her beauty had not diminished, and he felt his body reacting to her. But he was no longer the same man. He was still having trouble getting his head around the fact of her presence before him. He’d done his best to forget her; hadn’t wanted to remember. To see her here now, a few steps away, awoke in him feelings that had lain dormant. And they weren’t all good.

He went to a cupboard and took out two glasses and a bottle, then poured himself a little whisky and drank it. “What are you doing here, Rebecca?”

It wasn’t the question that shook her. It was his tone, or lack of it. His voice had no inflection; it was apathetic and dry, calling to mind Mrs. Munro’s warning about his changed temperament.

“Do I have to say it?” She followed him with her eyes, wishing he would say something.

He moved slowly across the room. “Yes.”

Rebecca didn’t want to beat around the bush, but she was having a hard time facing his rejection. She stared at the floor. “I came to see you. I . . . I found out . . . That is, I heard you’d married Mary, and . . .”

“You found out it was over.”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking up.

Kenzie turned to the fire and threw on a log. He spoke with his back to her. “You’re well informed about my life.” He paused. “But then, I knew about yours too.”

“What . . . what did you know?”

“That you have a daughter; that you’re a teacher.” He looked at her now, an insinuating cast to his eyes. “And that you got divorced two years ago.”

“You knew?”

“You forget we have friends in common. You should’ve thought of that before coming all the way here. You could’ve figured out the answer on your own.”

Rebecca stirred in the chair, trembling from a sudden chill. “What answer?”

Kenzie hesitated, as if deep down he didn’t want to tell her. Then he said, “If I’d wanted you back, I would’ve gone to find you.”

Rebecca’s sense of foreboding was confirmed. Of course! Lola had kept her in the loop about Kenzie’s life, after all. It was only logical that Rory would do the same for him. Why didn’t she think of it before?

An oppressive sadness pressed down on her. What was left to say? She’d simply have to excuse herself and leave for good. She’d have time to mourn later.

But she didn’t want to leave.

She watched him stand by the fireplace, his back to her, staring at the flames. It took all her will not to go to him. “You’re right,” she conceded. “But I didn’t want to admit it. For once in my life, I was free to make my own decision, and I knew my life would remain stuck in memories of the past if I didn’t come to see you.”

She felt her throat catch and stood up. Swallowing her pride, she continued: “Deep down I didn’t care if you rejected me, if there was someone else in your life, or even if you despised me. Nothing mattered except seeing you again. What we had ended so badly, I couldn’t—”

He turned to look at her. “You came looking for forgiveness so you could clear your conscience and get on with your comfortable life, your teaching job, your new English boyfriend . . .”

“My new boyfriend? You mean Matt?”

“Are there others?”

“No! And I’m not with Matt!”

“Oh, so you dumped your English boyfriend and came looking for your Scottish lover. What’s wrong with Barcelona? Aren’t there enough men to go around?”

“You were never just a lover.”

“Of course I was. And apparently a good one, seeing as you’ve come back.” He went to the window, moved aside a thick curtain, and closed the shutters.

“That’s not fair. If you know so much about me, you also know I had no choice but to marry Mario.”

“You mean you didn’t see another option. Maybe you didn’t want to.”

“That’s not true. It tore my heart apart to leave you.”

“You made the comfortable decision.” He turned to her with a cold look. “You didn’t fight.”

“I couldn’t fight everyone by myself.”

“I would have helped you. Didn’t you think of that?”

Rebecca eyes filled with tears. “You didn’t fight either, Kenzie. You believed me too easily.”

He wasn’t expecting her reproach, and his eyes flashed anger. “And what was I supposed to do? You told me Mario was all you needed to be happy. Or did you forget that?”

She hadn’t forgotten, but hearing the words come from his mouth, she knew just how devastating they must have been for him. Their conversation, she realized, wasn’t going anywhere. She tried to sound calm. “There’s too much bitterness in you. I can’t fight that.”

Kenzie took a step toward her. “And how did you think you’d find me?” He leaned in close, and she smelled the whisky on his breath. “Did you think I’d drop to my knees, kiss your feet, and invite you into my bed?”

Despite his intimidating proximity, Rebecca did not pull back. “I thought that maybe we could have a second chance. Life has denied us the happiness we had together. Don’t you remember, Kenzie?”

“I remember a night in the forest,” he said through clenched teeth, “and vows of unity . . . And then it all went to hell in an instant. Maybe it didn’t mean anything to you, but to me, you were my wife. It was real for me!”

“It was real for me too, but I can’t go back and change the past.”

“And I can’t help how I feel.”

They looked at each other defiantly, desire battling resentment.

He looked away first, turning his back on her, and raked his hand through his hair. Rebecca was relieved; his eyes had been burning into her.

“Is that it? Is that all we have left?”

He didn’t respond. She pulled on his arm. “Talk to me!”

Kenzie turned brusquely, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her close. “Don’t force me to say things you don’t want to hear. I don’t want to hurt you.” His cat-like eyes closed until they were two slits. “There was a time I did want to hurt you. I wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me. But the years have dulled the suffering, and the pain has turned to indifference.”

“Or resentment.”

“Call it whatever you want.” He grabbed his coat and put it on.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on. I’ll take you to your hotel or wherever you’re staying.”

“No. I don’t want to go!” she cried.

Kenzie’s impassioned look intensified. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to look at me like you did before, talk to me like you did before.”

“Rebecca, I can’t. I don’t feel the same way I did then.”

“I don’t believe you. It’s your wounded pride talking, not you.”

“Do you have any idea how many times I imagined seeing you again?” he asked, squeezing her arms. She was too upset to say anything. “Answer me!”

“No, Kenzie, I don’t know.”

“Some days I felt I was drowning in all the feelings I had experienced with you. Other days the bitterness turned my heart black and I cursed you. And now you show up here, and you want me to forgive and forget and feel just like I did before.” His grip loosened on her arms, and the vein in his forehead receded. The tension that had seized him went out of him. And when he spoke, he buried once and for all his future with her. “Go home, Rebecca. There’s nothing for you here.”

It’s over,
she thought then; she couldn’t press him any further. Kenzie had built a wall of bitterness so strong she couldn’t penetrate it. She wanted to kiss him one last time, hoping it might somehow return to him the memory of their love. But she held back, fearing further rejection. She was defeated.

She went to retrieve her raincoat, trembling and hunched, as if racked with pain.

Kenzie turned his back on her and stirred the fire, perhaps to avoid having a final sad scene burned into his memory.

The heat of the flames on his face matched the resentment burning inside him. Yet he was also aware of the great effort required to not embrace her when he saw how devastated she was by his rejection. The entire time she’d been there, he had been holding himself back. He’d be lost if he succumbed to sympathy for her.

His thoughts were brought back to the present when he noticed the flames flickering in front of him and felt a draft circulating in the room. He turned with a sense of foreboding and saw that the room was empty. The front door was open, and Rebecca was nowhere to be seen. His heart clenched as he stepped into the darkness and shouted her name.