Taking the handkerchief her friend held out, Gabby blew her nose.
“Tired but better. And embarrassed,” she added in a small voice.
“There’s naught to be embarrassed about. We all need a good cry now and again.” Maggie leaned forward in her seat. “And you’ve had the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
“Why don’t you tell us about it?” Tessa suggested. “Maybe we can help.”
Gabby didn’t know if it was the strain of recent weeks or her friends’ empathy, but she found herself talking. Hesitantly at first, then with increasing alacrity, she shared her fears and worries. How long would Adam’s amnesia last? What if heneverrecovered his memory? Was she doing enough to help him?
“And he’sdifferent,” she concluded.
Tessa’s brow furrowed. “Different in a good or bad way?”
“Not bad,” she said after a sniffle. “Just different. Sometimes I feel as if he’s…a stranger.”
“Perhaps if you could give us an example?” Maggie suggested.
“I think he’s beenflirtingwith me,” she said in a mortified rush.
Silence blanketed the room. A giggle escaped Tessa, which seemed to have a domino effect on Emma and Maggie. Soon the three of them were pealing with laughter.
“What is so amusing?” Hurt and bewildered, Gabby said, “I’mserious.”
“I’m sorry,” Emma gasped. “It’s just that…well, flirting, it’s quitenormalbetween husband and wife, isn’t it?”
“Between you and your husbands, perhaps.” Gabby twisted the damp linen in her hands. “But Adam is not the flirting sort. He’s direct and honest; he’d never pay a compliment if he didn’t mean it.”
Tessa’s fine brows drew together. “What makes you think his compliments aren’t sincere?”
“He told me my hair reminded him of roses,” Gabby said miserably. “And that my eyes stole the blue out of heaven.”
Looking confused, Tessa said, “That’s good…isn’t it?”
“If it weretrue. But I’ve got carroty hair and ordinary eyes.” Her cheeks hot, Gabby said fiercely, “My Adam, the one before the accident, would never tease me so horribly!”
“Did she compare her hair to carrots?” Maggie raised her brows at Emma and Tessa. “And she thinks her eyes areordinary?”
“That’s Gabby.” Emma sighed. “She refuses to see that she’s beautiful.”
“You’re only saying that because you’re my friends and ever so kind,” Gabby said with as much dignity as she could muster. “But the truth is my looks don’t matter to me because I had a husband who saw beyond them. Whose honesty I valued more than flummery—”
“Hold up,” Tessa interrupted. “Are you saying that the old Garritynevertold you that you were beautiful?”
“Not in so many words. That is, he told me he found me pleasing,” she added hastily when Tessa’s visage darkened, “and how proud he was to call me his wife, but he wasn’t one for romantic notions. He was quite forthright about it when he offered for me.”
“Every man should tell his wife she is beautiful,” Tessa declared.
“At least once a day,” Emma agreed.
“Communication is important in a relationship.” With a rueful smile, Maggie said, “Ransom and I are discovering this for ourselves.”
Fatigue pounded at Gabby’s temples. Every marriage was built differently, and her friends didn’t understand the sort of union that she and Adam had constructed. Perhaps not all the doors had been open between them, but the walls of privacy had made her feel safe. She’d always had a place to retreat, to hide. Their arrangement had worked…hadn’t it?
She pushed aside the niggling doubts. She didn’t want to besmirch Adam in her friends’ eyes, nor did she want to argue with them. The truth was that she, herself, didn’t quite understand why she was upset over his compliments.
“Perhaps the crux of what is bothering you isn’t the flirting per se, but the fact that your husband seems changed?”
Maggie’s insight reverberated through Gabby, shaking loose a fresh wave of tears.
