Chapter Two
Amnesia
"Sylvia." Albert said. "Sylvia, it's time to wake up,"
Sylvia stirred and sat up. Her eyes widened and she leapt out of bed, pulling the quilt around her.
"Who are you?" she shouted. "What are you doing in my room? Pa, who is this? What's he doing here?"
Albert stood up slowly.
"Sylvia, don't you recognise me? I'm Albert. Albert Ingalls. We're together. We… we're getting married,"
Sylvia showed no recognition, and started to scream. Louder and louder she screamed, until Albert and Mr. Webb could not hear anything else, even when she stopped to breathe.
"Albert, get Doctor Baker!" Mr. Webb yelled. Albert ran out of the room and into the town to the surgery.
"Doctor!" he hammered on the door. "Doctor!"
Doctor Baker opened the door.
"What is it? Is it Sylvia?"
Albert nodded. "She doesn't recognise me! Come quick!"
Back at the Webb place, Sylvia was lying in her bed again. She was shaking. Suddenly she closed her eyes – she had fainted.
Mr. Webb started trying to revive her – patting her face, sponging water over her closed eyelids; nothing seemed to be working. He was just about to shake her shoulders in a last, desperate attempt to wake her up when he heard the clatter of hooves and the scraping of dusty wheels skidding across the dirt. He stood up, ran into the main room and yanked the door open.
Doctor Baker and Albert rushed in.
"How is she?" Doctor Baker said.
"She's passed out again. I've tried to wake her up, but I can't," Mr. Webb reported.
"Maybe I can try," Doctor Baker stepped into Sylvia's bedroom and closed the door. Presently, he stepped out again.
"Doctor, what's wrong with Sylvia?" Mr. Webb said.
"Physically, she's fine. However, I do believe that she has trauma-induced amnesia. She knows who I am, and… did you know who you were?"
Mr. Webb nodded.
"Then it should wear off soon. I've seen it before. Ever seen unconscious people come round? The first thing they say is, "Where am I?" isn't it?"
"I guess,"
"That's trauma-induced amnesia. Give her a day or two. She should be fine in a week at most."
"Oh, good," Albert stepped in. "How is she now?"
"She's sleeping again,"
"Can I sit with her?"
"I don't think that's a good idea," Doctor Baker adjusted his glasses. "You know, in case she wakes up and still doesn't know you,"
"Albert? Albert? Where are you?" Sylvia's voice came suddenly from her bedroom.
"Can I see her? She's asking for me," said Albert.
"I don't see why not. Tell you what, though – keep the door open, just in case,"
Albert stepped through.
"What happened?" Sylvia asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what's happened?"
"I don't understand. What do you remember?"
"I was sleeping in the barn," Sylvia blinked hard. "And now I'm here. Am I at home?"
"Yes,"
"So, how did I get here?"
"Uh," Albert shuffled where he stood. "I think Doctor Baker will explain most of it better than I can," he sat down in the chair next to the bed. "We were going to run away – you were in the barn,"
Sylvia nodded. "I remember that much," she leaned back. "Then what happened?"
"I'd been in town, borrowing money from Mr. Hartwig, the blacksmith, except he wasn't there, so I took some money for us and I was writing a note, when he came in,"
Sylvia looked startled.
"I told him what I was doing, and, I don't know why, but I told him that you were in the barn," Albert leaned forward and took Sylvia's hand. "Sylvia, he was the man in the mask,"
"He's in the town?" Sylvia sat up very suddenly. "Albert, we have to get out of here! He hurt me once; what's to say he won't hurt the baby when it arrives?"
Albert had forgotten that, if Sylvia did not know about her fall, she would not know that Mr. Hartwig was dead, or that she had lost the baby.
"Sylvia, he came into the barn, and found you. I saw it and started trying to keep him away, but then he threw me off and went to attack you," he paused. "You climbed up a ladder to get away from him, but then you fell,"
Sylvia nodded. "Then what happened?"
"Then we took you back here – Doctor Baker thought you were going to die,"
Sylvia's eyes widened. "What?"
"We all did. I sat with you when we thought it was the end, but then you woke up and lost the baby,"
Sylvia collapsed onto the pillows. "No," she said. "No, I can't have lost the baby,"
"You have," Albert repeated softly. "I'm sorry,"
"So, am I going to be all right?"
"Yes,"
"So, can we still get married?"
"Yes,"
"That helps," Sylvia said. "The whole town still thinks I'm pregnant, don't they?"
"I think so,"
Sylvia squeezed Albert's hand. "Would they come to a church wedding?"
"Maybe not all of them would come. Mrs. Oleson won't,"
"That's probably a good thing,"
"Yeah," Albert laughed. "You can just imagine – you're walking up the aisle with your Pa, we take the vows, then we walk back down as husband and wife, then see Mrs. Oleson scowling at us through a curtain of rose petals,"
"Not roses," Sylvia said. "I can't stand them,"
"All right, then. We can have… grass!" Albert had a handful of straw in his pocket – it must have collected there when he'd been shoeing horses for Mr. Hartwig - no; he wasn't going to think about Mr. Hartwig. Mr. Hartwig was dead. He had caused Sylvia to suffer enough without resurrecting himself in their minds now. Albert pulled the straw out of his pocket and sprinkled it on Sylvia's head.
"Albert!" Sylvia shrieked, doubling up with laughter. "What am I going to do with you?"
"Marry me,"
"Yes," Sylvia picked straw out of her hair. "Yes, I am," She sat up and threw her arms around Albert. "I am going to marry you, Albert Quinn Ingalls,"
