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Without a Home

By LoRee Peery

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IT HAD BEEN SIX MONTHS. Since March, to be exact. But what was time to a person whose spatial concept was all messed up?
Her morning routine was the same. “Fawn Stuart.” Stand in front of the mirror and repeat. “Fawn Stuart. My name is Fawn Stuart.”
And every day, a thousand times a day, she asked herself if she’d ever remember. That is, remember what happened before mid-March.
She’d been called a hero because she saved her mother. That act had come with a price. Though she’d saved Mom, she’d lost herself. Who was Fawn Stuart?
My life changed in the spring, though I don’t know what, or who I was before the change.
With summer on the wane, fall knocked at the door. The breeze had cooled. Grass still grew green, where it grew. Rather than pastures covered in native grasses or alfalfa, the farm where she’d grown up had been filled in with sand during the Nebraska March flood. So she’d been informed. The knowledge meant nothing on an emotional level.
Displaced and homeless, this was Fawn’s third residence since the farm buildings were wiped out. Her father, whom she didn’t remember, had washed down the river when a bridge collapsed beneath his four-wheeler. She’d been hospitalized, rehabbed, and offered solace on a ranch where she could stay indefinitely.
Her mother lived in Sioux City, a town Fawn hadn’t known, with Aunt Carol, a female relative Fawn didn’t recognize.
Now in early September, she sought sanctuary at Ivy’s Inn, a B&B on a ranch near Verdigre, Nebraska. Mom believed the country would be best for Fawn’s health and recuperation, so she’d been left here.
She heaved a huge sigh, as she’d often done since her arrival. Mom was probably right. The country felt like home. If she could remember how home felt.
“Look for joy in the newness of each day.” Will I always stare into the mirror and talk to my image? “Feeling sorry for yourself gets you nowhere.”
A shuffle sounded outside her door.
She entered the adjoining guestroom and opened the door onto the upstairs hallway of Ivy’s Inn.
Roni Bennett smiled as she took a step back. “Good morning. I hope you slept well.”
“I did, thank you.”
“Breakfast is ready earlier than usual. Dawson and I need to speak with you.”
“I’ll be right down.” Roni had turned out to be a good friend, and a generous one.
Noise from below meant Roni and Dawson Bennett’s daughter was awake. Precocious Ivy had announced upon meeting Fawn, “Hi. I’m four. Mom says I’m going on fourteen. But that’s really grown up and I want to stay a kid for years so I can still play with Hugo.”
Hugo made Fawn smile as much as Ivy did. If he weighed a pound, the dog must weigh one-twenty-five. At that instant, girl and St. Bernard mix raced past the bottom of the stairs toward the dining table.
Fawn followed their boisterous entry. Her steps faltered at sight of Jarett Raymond. And he claimed they had a history. The man caused quivery things in her stomach she didn’t understand. Every time she saw him she questioned herself as to what they’d meant to one another.
Jarett removed his hat and nodded. The deep tan accentuated the indigo of his eyes. “Morning, Fawn.”
She nodded and realized she hadn’t seen him much lately, except from a distance on her walks. He came to the house infrequently, to update Dawson on fencing issues or anything else that affected Jarett’s cow/calf pairs. The more she saw him the more she was drawn to him.
“Take your seats, please.” Roni handed Jarett a large coffee mug. “Thanks for coming on short notice. We’ll talk business as soon as our stomachs stop rumbling and the coffee wakes up our minds.”
Jarett pulled out a chair at the place setting opposite Fawn, ruffled Ivy’s hair in passing, and patted the dog where he sat next to Ivy’s chair.
Ivy giggled at Hugo, and then looked at Dawson. “Sing our prayer, Daddy.”
Country singer at heart, he obeyed.
Fawn spoke her amen with the others. She dug into her western omelet and recalled her reaction to Roni’s invitation to recover at the ranch. Were all country people as hospitable?
Roni exchanged a meaningful glance with Dawson then she touched his arm. “You’re positive this is the only way?”
Dawson nodded in response. “It’ll work out fine.”
Fawn had asked Roni much the same question three months earlier. “You’re sure I won’t be in your way?”
And Roni had responded, “I’m convinced it’s God’s will. You love the country. Where else should you be? Besides, living with us could bring your memory back in a week.”
Fat chance. Fawn remained an inconvenient guest.
***
Jarett wiped his mouth. “You make mighty fine biscuits, Roni.”
She stood, and then retrieved the coffee carafe for refills.
While he waited, he filled his sight with Fawn. So fair to gaze upon with her light brown hair and ever-changing hazel eyes, he had a hard time juxtaposing the new personality with the old.
Once so sure of herself, lively, responsible, and outdoorsy, she now came across as timid and hesitant. And what was with her voice? He hadn’t known how to react the first time they met again after ten years. Well, were reintroduced by her mother. Fawn’s personality had changed so much that when she spoke, rather than strong, her statements always ended on an uplift as though she asked a question with every sentence.
In a way, her voice was alluring and positive. The light musical tone drew a responsive smile from him every time she spoke. One thing remained constant and familiar. She looked a person right in the eye when she communicated.
Roni poured coffee into the mug at his side, which broke into his rumination.
Dawson stacked his wife’s and daughter’s plates. “Ivy, honey, wash your face, and you can go swing.”
“Daa-ddee, I have to feed Hugo first.”
“You’re right, sweetheart. Go for it.” He settled Fawn’s and Jarett’s plates at the bottom of his stack.
Roni sat the instant the door slammed. “We need your help, Jarett. And Fawn does too.”
“Anything.” He glanced between the women. “You know that.”
All the while the four adults enjoyed their caffeine infusion, Jarett anxiously awaited disclosure of why he’d been beckoned.
“You met my brother Wayne when we interviewed you about continuing to lease our land for your cattle. His wife, Allison, went into the hospital during the wee hours of the morning.” Dawson tapped the table.
Roni wiped her eyes.
Fawn stared at Roni. “You said the babies weren’t due for six weeks.”
Roni patted Fawn’s arm. “Twins often come early, but there are complications.”
Dawson picked up. “The docs are real sure the baby boy won’t make it. The little girl has a strong heart. They’re preparing Allison for a C-section early this afternoon.”
“You have to go.” Jarett caught Fawn’s startled expression and tried to reassure her with a smile.
“I can’t relate to elation over a birth, but I saw how hard it was for Mom, grieving over Dad. She’s been my example of a lot of things.” Fawn glanced out the window. “I should be crying over the loss of my father. I do feel sad that I don’t remember him. But that’s more about me than him. Poor Allison and Wayne. Babies should be a happy story of a different kind.”
“That’s where you two come in.” Roni stood and rested a hand on Jarett’s shoulder. “I need to finish packing. We don’t know how long we’ll be in Norfolk.”
“Wait a sec, Roni.” Dawson glanced from Fawn to Jarett. “We want you to stay here and look after Fawn while we’re gone.”
Her eyes startled wide. She searched Roni’s and Dawson’s faces. “Rehab in Lincoln confirmed my ability to understand compound words. Occupational therapy reintroduced me to taking care of my daily needs. I’m sorry that I’m not supposed to be alone.”
Jarett kept his gaze locked on Fawn. She had to be sick of other people making decisions for her. If anyone planned his days, he’d do more than clench his teeth and purse his lips by way of reacting. At least she wasn’t crying. “You and I can run the place. They’ll only be a call or text away.”
Dawson nodded. “Ivy won’t like it, but Hugo must stay with you. We think it’s the best solution.”
What would the days ahead bring? How long could he get by without Fawn remembering what she’d done to him?

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