by Judy Duarte
Nope. He felt pretty confident that Jack didn’t know jack about pregnancy or childbirth.
Alana shut off the engine, and they both climbed from the pickup.
“Hey there!” The blonde brightened as she crossed the yard to greet them. “I’m Callie. You must be—”
“—Jack!” Alana grabbed his arm. “I’d like to introduce you to my best friend and former roommate, Callie.”
An odd expression crossed the blonde’s pretty face, one of confusion. Or maybe more like surprise. Her brow furrowed, then she turned to Alana. “Jack?”
“That’s right. I met him a while back, and I’m afraid he doesn’t remember anything about himself, even his name.” Alana withdrew her hand from his arm and took a step closer to her friend.
“I...” Callie scanned Jack’s length, then she returned her attention to Alana. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“I’ll explain later. I’m sure he’d like to rest for a while. His pain meds make him sleepy.”
He found their conversation a little odd, but what difference did that make? It’s not like he had anything brilliant to add. Though he was wondering why they were talking about him like he wasn’t there.
Instead, he scanned the yard. The barn needed a fresh coat of paint as well as a new roof. The yard was in better shape—the grass was freshly mowed, the garden weeded. Six cherry trees grew across the driveway. They looked a little scraggly, but they were producing fruit.
Alana referred to her place as a ranch, but it looked more like a farm to him. Supposedly, he’d been here yesterday, the day he’d somehow gotten banged up, but he couldn’t remember anything prior to waking in a hospital bed, his head aching like hell. It was better now, but she’d been right about those pain meds. He was beginning to feel pretty drowsy.
“Jack,” Alana said, as she again reached for his arm and drew him from his musing. “Let’s go inside. I’ll show you to your room.”
He didn’t object as she led him to the house. Right now, all he could think about was lying down, closing his eyes and trying to take a nap. Maybe when he woke up, he’d even find that the last twenty-four hours had just been a bad dream.
* * *
Alana hated to leave Callie standing in the yard and looking more than a little befuddled, but a secret or two was in jeopardy, and since spilling the beans right now was out of the question, she couldn’t get Jack into the house fast enough.
Yesterday, while they were at the ER and waiting for Dr. Kirkland to come back and share the results of the MRI, Alana had texted Callie, letting her know that Clay had shown up on the ranch and that something awful had happened to him. And it was anyone’s guess just what that something was.
Throughout the afternoon and evening, she’d continued to give Callie updates about the head injury that had left him with temporary amnesia. She’d even told her BFF that the doctor was admitting him for observation. She’d also sent a text about an hour ago to say he was being released and that she was taking him back to Rancho Esperanza until he recovered.
Unfortunately, she’d neglected to mention that, when asked his name, she’d lied.
Sure, at the time, she’d had reasons for doing that, but as the day wore on, she’d begun to question her judgment. And by the time they’d checked out and she’d accepted financial responsibility for his medical expenses, she’d realized she should have been honest from the get-go. But she had no idea how to backpedal now, especially when the poor guy was struggling to remember anything at all. The way she saw it, lies and apologies would only confuse him more.
And yes, on top of that, the truth would be a huge embarrassment for her to admit to, but she was in too deep now to avoid facing the eventual consequences of her mistake.
Just as the old saying went, she’d made her bed and would have to, um, yeah. Been there, done that, four months ago, too. And like before, she’d have to lie in this one, as well.
She led her onetime lover through the small living room and down the hall to the bedroom that had once belonged to the real Jack McGee. She entered first, but when she turned to point out the en suite bathroom to her guest, she realized he remained in the doorway, as if reluctant to enter.
“Is something wrong?” she asked. She’d assumed the man had money—and lots of it. Was the room not to his liking; had it not reached his personal standard?
“Whose room is this?” He leaned against the doorjamb and folded his arms across his chest.
“It used to belong to my late grandfather. Why?”
“Just wondering. I picked up the scent of Old Spice cologne and pipe tobacco.” He straightened, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sniff. “Peppermint, too.”
The younger Jack’s brain might be scrambled, but the blow to his head certainly hadn’t affected his sense of smell.
“That’s what I like about this room,” she said, as she scanned the scarred antique furniture, the red, brown and green patchwork quilt that covered the double bed, the colorful braided wool rug that protected the hardwood floor. “Every time I walk in, I think of him.” And how sweet he’d been, how appreciative and...how very much she missed him.
“I’ll be careful not to open any windows and air it out.”
She smiled at his unexpected thoughtfulness. “It’s okay if you do. I didn’t plan to lock up the room and turn it into a memorial. I just haven’t gotten around to moving his things out. There’s so much more to do on the ranch that it hasn’t been a priority.”
He nodded, then said, “I’d be happy to help out while I’m here and take on a few chores.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I know.” He eased into Grandpa Jack’s bedroom. “Consider it my way of paying you back for room and board. I’ll also reimburse you for my medical bills—once I remember where I bank and can access my account.”
She appreciated the gesture and made a mental note of it on what Santa would call Jack’s naughty-or-nice list.
“All right,” she said, “but for now, you need to get your rest and take the time to heal.” And maybe as his memory returned, he’d remember some of the things she’d never forget.
“Will do.”
That was her cue to leave and give him some privacy.
“The bedding is clean,” she said.
He nodded toward the doorway that led to the bathroom. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll start with a shower.”
“You’ll find towels and washcloths in the cupboard under the sink. There’s a razor, too. I’m not sure about a toothbrush, though.”
“I’ve got the one they gave me at the hospital. I think that bag is still in the truck.”
It was. “I’ll get it for you.”
He was going to need clean clothes, too. So she walked to the closet and pulled out a pair of faded jeans and a blue plaid shirt with a frayed collar. “I realize this probably isn’t your style, and it might be a little small, but it’s something to wear while I wash the clothes you’re wearing.” She nodded at the dresser. “You’ll find underwear and socks in the top drawer. I know—” She caught herself before admitting that she knew he had a preference for boxer briefs—and expensive ones at that. “I mean, I hope that you’ll make yourself at home.”
“Thanks. I appreciate all you’ve done, all you’re doing.”
“It’s not a problem. If you’ll set your dirty clothes outside the bedroom door, I’ll wash them for you. I’m pretty good at getting out stains.” She’d had to be. Buying new clothes had been a luxury when she was young. And these days, it still was.
He studied her for a moment, his head tilted slightly to the side. “It seems...odd...that you’re letting me stay here. I mean, if we only met once and we haven’t seen each other in months.”
“If you knew me better, you’d realize you’re not the only one I let move in temporarily. At dinn
er, you’ll meet Katie and her two younger brothers. They’re living in one of the outbuildings, but we all eat together. I hope...”
“You hope what?”
“That you feel better when you wake up, that things begin to make sense.”
“You and me both.”
Their gazes locked, and as much as she wanted to leave him to shower and take a nap, she couldn’t seem to move. At least, not in an attempt to put a little distance between them. And that wasn’t a good idea. Not today.
He was the first to look away. He nodded toward the bathroom. “I’d better take that shower and see if I can get some rest. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I didn’t, either.”
“Yeah. I know. But what I can’t figure out is why you spent the night in my room.”
“Because...” It was too hard to explain yet too hard not to. But he wasn’t ready for a rundown of that night in Colorado. And quite frankly, she wasn’t ready to provide it. “Well, let’s just say that I’ve been told I’m a sucker for a sob story, but I listen to my instincts. I prefer to think that I have a big heart. Maybe too big at times, but I just can’t help feeling sorry for people who are down on their luck. I want to do what I can to help, however little that might be.”
And with that, she made for the door. If she wasn’t careful, her big ol’ heart was going to get her into trouble.
Moments later, after leaving Jack to shower, she went to find Callie. But she didn’t have to go far. Callie sat on the brown tweed sofa in the living room, waiting for her.
“I’ve got him settled in Grandpa’s room,” Alana said.
“Good.” Callie lowered her voice to a whisper. “What’s going on?”
“He had nowhere else to stay, so I brought him home.”
“Yes, I can see that. And knowing you the way I do, I’m not at all surprised. But I thought you told me his name was Clay. Did he lie to you in Colorado?”
“He might have. I don’t know. But...” Alana took a seat next to her friend and blew out a wobbly sigh. “Well, when the doctor asked me his name, I told him it was Jack.”
“Jack? Like your grandpa?”
“Um, yeah.”
Callie turned in her seat, facing Alana. “Why on earth did you do that?”
“At the time, I was desperate to explain the inexplicable. And it just sort of rolled out of my mouth. Looking back, I should have leveled with everyone involved, but nothing made sense yesterday.”
“You’re going to be sorry for that.”
Alana leaned against the backrest and slunk in her seat. “I already am. But I have no idea how to turn things back to right, if you know what I mean.”
Callie chuckled. “I gotta tell you, I have no idea what you were thinking—or how you’re going to fix it, either.”
Neither did Alana. And she had a feeling that “Jack” already suspected that they’d been lovers or that they’d at least wanted to be.
What would he say when...no, make that if...he found out she was pregnant? Because the jury was still out on whether she should admit that he was the father or keep that secret to herself.
Only trouble was, she couldn’t hide her baby bump much longer. And when Jack’s memory returned, he’d only have to do the math.
Chapter Four
Alana tried to wake Jack to tell him to come to dinner, but he merely rolled over and said, “Okay,” then went back to sleep.
Neither of them had gotten much rest the night before.
By eight o’clock, she was exhausted and turned in earlier than usual. As she tiptoed down the hall, she paused in front of Jack’s room and quietly opened the door to check on him. She wanted to make sure he was still breathing. But her own breathing stopped the moment she spotted him asleep in bed, bare chested. A large, muscular right leg had snuck out of the covers, suggesting that he was sleeping in the raw.
She’d forgotten how darn good-looking he was, how perfectly formed, how taut his belly. Those arms, the impressive biceps, had once wrapped around her, holding her close as his hands and fingers had worked their magic on her body...
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Enough of that. They’d made love nearly four months ago, and it may as well have been four years. She hadn’t known anything about the man then. And heck, he didn’t even know himself right now.
She took a step back, her hand remaining on the doorknob. She’d come to check on him, not gaze at him like a lovesick puppy. Or to drool over him.
So get out of here. You’ve checked on him. He’s fine.
That he was. His breathing was steady, his well-sculpted chest moving up and down.
She inhaled deeply, and while she could still make out Grandpa’s faint but lingering pipe tobacco, she also caught the scent of soap. She took a moment to savor the alluring smell, then slowly stepped away from his room and closed the door. Jack would no doubt slumber like a baby tonight, but she’d be hard-pressed to keep her memories and yearnings at bay long enough to fall asleep.
And she was right. She tossed and turned like a dried-up tumbleweed in a Texas windstorm.
The next morning when she entered the kitchen to start breakfast, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee greeted her. The room was empty, but the coffee maker was still turned on, the carafe nearly full.
Alana had always been an early riser, but Katie, her temporary roommate, must have beat her to the kitchen. At dinner last night, she’d mentioned she’d have to pull an all-nighter to study for a microbiology test. The young woman had suffered appendicitis during the spring semester and had had to file an incomplete. She was making up the class during the summer.
Katie must have fixed the coffee so she could drink a cup before leaving. That being the case, she’d better check on Katie’s brothers and tell them it was time to wake up and get their chores done.
Alana crossed the kitchen, walked through the mudroom and out the back door. Then she stopped in her tracks. Katie’s car was still parked near the barn, so she hadn’t gone to school yet. But someone else was awake.
Jack stood near the broken-down corral, his back to her. He held a white mug in his hand, the steam curling up into the morning air. The two dogs, Rascal and Chewie, sat on their haunches beside him, clearly accepting him as a ranch fixture—if not a friend.
When Alana met him in Colorado, he’d claimed to be an attorney and said his name was Clay. He’d certainly looked the part in that hotel bar. But today, dressed in Grandpa Jack’s clothing, he appeared to be a real live cowboy. So much so, in fact, that it gave her reason to question his story about being a lawyer.
Unable to help herself, she stepped off the back porch and went outside to join him. He must have heard her approach, because when she got about ten feet from him, he turned around and eyed her carefully. He wore a curious expression, one that seemed to question her.
Had his memories come back?
“How’re you doing?” she asked.
“Okay.” He lifted the mug in his hand. “I hope you don’t mind that I put on a pot of coffee this morning.”
“Not at all.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You must be hungry. I can make some hotcakes. Or maybe scrambled eggs.”
“Whatever’s easiest. I’ve never been a big breakfast eater.” He paused, raised an eyebrow, then he chuffed. “How ’bout that? I’ve remembered something else that isn’t very helpful.”
“Something else?”
“Yeah. I speak a little Spanish, too. Like I said, when it comes to a solid memory, I wish I’d get a better clue about me. Like my name, where I live. That sort of thing.” He lifted his mug, took a sip then held it up to her. “Apparently, I also like my coffee black.”
“Then, the doctor was right.” Guilt and worry rose up and began to taunt her, but she tamped them down and forced a smile. “With time, your memories will come bac
k.”
“One by one, I guess.” He turned toward the corral and peered out into the distance. “So what’d your grandfather run? Cattle? Horses?”
“Both. Kind of. He mostly raised beef cattle, but he was an old rodeo cowboy. So he also bred and trained cutting horses on the side. There are still about a dozen cows grazing out in the south pasture, and there are two horses left. Bailey and Selena. Grandpa asked me to exercise them often.”
“Do you? Ride them?”
“I wish I could.” She shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m not very good at it, and I forgot how to saddle them. I’ll probably have to sell them. Grandpa said they were ‘damn good broodmares.’”
“I’ll saddle them for you.”
“You know how to do that?”
“Apparently.” He scrunched his brow, then slowly shook his head. “Maybe in a couple of days, I’ll give it a try.”
So he was an attorney and a rancher? Was that even possible? She’d like nothing more than to trust every little thing he’d told her when they’d met, although he really hadn’t revealed very much. She’d carried most of the conversation. And then, once they’d gone to his hotel suite, neither of them had been in the mood for idle chitchat. Their bodies had done the talking.
“Would you mind if I took a look at Bailey and Selena?” he asked.
“Not at all. I’ll take you to the barn after breakfast.” Yet instead of turning and walking away, she continued to study him.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“No. Not at all.” But that wasn’t true. She hated to think that he might have lied to her back in Colorado, that he hadn’t been truthful about his name or his occupation, especially since she’d been so open and honest with him.
At least she’d been honest back then. Who was the liar now? She’d had her reasons for not telling him more about the night they’d met, but why in the heck had she told him his name was Jack McGee?
She’d have to figure out a way to set the record straight, but she couldn’t see how to do that without going into detail about that one-night stand. And she shouldn’t broach the subject until he was feeling better and his memory returned. So it wouldn’t do her any good to stew about it now.
