The Memory of All That - Nancy Smith Gibson

Table of Contents



Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48




New York




Cover Design by Leah Kaye-Suttle

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

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Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

Published in the United States of America by

Soul Mate Publishing

P.O. Box 24

Macedon, New York, 14502



The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

The Memory Of All That is dedicated to my family,

who have always encouraged me to follow my dreams.

Thank you Lisa Gibson Sanderock,

Robin Gibson Beard, Holly Gibson Thorwarth,

and James Joel Gibson for your love and support.


My deepest thanks to all those who helped me get this book written and published. My special thanks to the Hot Springs Critique and Feedback Group, who listened and made suggestions to improve the story. Special thanks are due to my diligent editor, Tamus Bairen, without whom this novel would be full of mistakes.

Chapter 1

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the man sitting in a chair beside the bed. His expression was solemn, and his dark blue eyes were fixed on her. When he saw she was awake, he frowned but said nothing. She began to open her mouth to ask where she was, but the blackness closed in again.

She didn’t know how long she had slept, but the next time she opened her eyes, the chair by the bed was empty. Smelling the faint scent of aftershave, she scanned the room and saw the man standing in the doorway with his hand on the doorknob, looking back at her.

Handsome, she thought, but he looks so sad.

Before she could gather her thoughts and strength enough to speak, he left, closing the door behind him.

Now that she was able to stay awake long enough to survey her surroundings, she observed deep red, flocked wallpaper and rosewood crown molding against the high ceiling. Maroon tapestry draperies covered the windows, shutting out any potential sunlight. The lamp on the bedside table offered scant illumination for the large room. The white sheets and duvet covering the four-poster bed were the only relief from the dreariness the dark colors instilled. This room is straight out of a Gothic novel, she thought.

She sighed and closed her eyes, unable to keep them open any longer. Before the black claimed her again, she tried to make sense of what had happened and how she had ended up in this room.

The icy-cold mist on her cheeks—that was the first thing she remembered. It stung as if someone had slapped her. Looking around, she saw she was standing in a small grove of trees. The pine needles under her feet released a pungent odor. About twenty feet away, there was a picnic table, a grill, and playground equipment. She took a few steps, slipping slightly on the pine needles mixed with sodden leaves. She grabbed hold of a low hanging, bare branch to steady herself. That's when she noticed the street running beside the park. She turned toward it when a thought hit her. The power of it caused her legs to grow weak, and she almost fell to the ground.

She had no idea where she was or what she was doing there. What’s going on? How could I not know where I am? Her mind tried to make sense of the situation. Maybe I’ve had