“Are you the one who tipped him off that she was here?”
He handed her a glass. “I’m the one who tipped her off that he was coming.”
“And who tipped you off that he was coming?”
“I still have contacts. They had no idea why Braxton Hayes and his inner circle of knuckle-draggers were on their way to my peaceful country town. They figured he must be looking for me, since I’m the only criminal here. You know, as far as anyone knows.”
“Besides your daughters, you mean.”
“Ah, yeah. Kiley never really was. I mean she tried, but my God, if there was a worse grifter, I never met her.”
“And Kendra.”
“Kendra was freaking amazing. But alas, she threw it all away for a man. Both daughters are well and truly reformed." He shrugged one shoulder. "Kendra still has grifter in her heart and soul, though. But still, reformed."
“So are you, I hear.”
He lifted his glass. “I’m a grandpa now.”
“Congratulations.” She downed the vodka, set down the glass. “Who told you Braxton Hayes was coming here?”
“Not gonna tell you that. Next question?”
“Has he arrived yet?”
“No.”
“You know when he will?”
“No.”
“Have you told anyone what you know about Sunny?”
“No.”
“You plan to?”
“Well, never say never.” She swung at him, he caught her wrist, their eyes locked, and then she leaned up and kissed the bastard. It was an impish little impulse that had come on too quick to resist. She kissed him hard, and when he started to go all soft, she jerked away fast.
“Why did you warn her?”
He turned away from her and took a leisurely sip from his glass. “Wanted to see what would happen. Didn’t expect her to take a nosedive onto a boulder. How is she?”
“Amnesia,” she said, deadpan.
“Bullshit,” he said back.
She took his drink. “Get out, Jack.” He gave her an “it’s your loss” look, reached behind him to open the door and backed out with a little bow.
Eve swallowed the rest of her drink, set the glass down, and said, “I’ve got to get Sunny the hell out of this town.”
Jason went to Sunny’s to make sure it was locked up and feed the cat.
Griselda, Griz for short, hated Jason’s guts. She wouldn’t let him pet her, but often hid around corners to ambush him as he passed. She’d wrap around his shin and do her best to claw and bite him right through his jeans, yowling angrily the entire time.
He pulled around to the back, and took the outside stairs up. Sunny lived in the entire second floor of the building, while her bakery took up the ground floor. The exterior stairs zig-zagged up the back to her door. He used his key, watching carefully for the cat, slipped inside and closed it behind him. “Yo, Griz. You here?”
Nothing.
“Kitty kitty?” There was no reply so he went to the cabinet where Sunny stored the cat food and pulled down both a box and a can. The dishes were on the floor, empty and dry. He picked them up, rinsed and wiped them with a paper towel, then filled them. One with water, one with the single-serving can of cat food, and the third with a handful of dry kitty kibble.
“Roooooow!” Jason heard the cat a moment before she came galloping into the kitchen, skidding to a cartoon stop when she saw him standing there instead of Sunny.
“I’m not happy about it either, cat. But it is what it is.”
She sat down and stared at him. If pressed, he’d have called it a death stare.
“Yeah, I know. But look here.” He took the three dishes off the counter, and set them in their three-dish holder of wrought iron and filigree on the floor. The cat was slightly spoiled.
Griz stood up, leaned forward, then looked at him, and her narrow eyes seemed to ask, “What sort of trap have you set for me, human?”
“I’m just gonna ease on past you, okay?”
He moved as far to the right as the wall would allow and sidestepped past the cat, just trying to get out from between Griz and her bowl. She took a mighty swipe at him as he passed, but it was half-hearted. Her eyes were on the food. Griz liked food more than she liked much of anything.
Once he was out of her way, Griz trotted to the dishes, high-stepping like a Lipizzaner and digging in.
He should’ve rinsed the can, he thought. He shouldn’t leave it in the sink like that. But he wasn’t walking by her again so he’d just wait until she finished. He stood there, looking around the place he’d visited a few thousand times. He slept here sometimes. He showered here sometimes. He felt at home here. He probably shouldn’t. Not with things the way they were at the moment, anyway.
The place was just like always. Mostly neat (not counting the cat hair) and pretty. There was a framed photo of the two of them taken last Christmas at the Long Branch’s annual Christmas Tree Lighting and Sing-Along. It stood on the end table beside the sofa. A lump came into his throat. The photo beside it looked so much like Sunny it made him tear up. It was her mother, the only photo she had of her, she'd told him. Their eyes were so alike, and Sunny had that same curve to her cheeks. He picked the photo up. The glass jiggled in the frame, the photo inside sliding around loosely enough that he glimpsed another picture behind it.
And he was curious.
He knew better than to be snooping, but damn, things were weird with Sunny all of the sudden. And if she had amnesia, he had smallpox. Not to mention, she had a swastika tattooed to her head. And with that half-assed justification, he slid the back off the frame. He picked up the hidden photograph, which had “Hayes Family” written on it in ink.
He turned it over and looked at Sunny's mother, standing in the crook of a smiling, handsome man's arm. The man cradled a newborn in his other arm. The baby was wrapped in a blue blanket and wearing a blue cap, and his face was red and wrinkled. But what had his attention was the little girl. She stood in front of her parents, her mother's hands were on her shoulders. And from the shape of her nose to the smile in her eyes as she gazed adoringly at the newborn, he recognized her. Sunny. This was Sunny. Sunny, who'd told him she was an only child, and that her parents had died when she was a baby.
She was not a baby in the photo. She was three, maybe four years old.
He sank onto the sofa. All these pieces were spinning around in his brain and clicking into place one by one. Sunny had a history she didn't want him–or anyone–to know about. She'd been lying to him. All these years.
His head was spinning, but he put the photo back just the way he’d found it, wondering how Sunny got to be a Cantrell if her family's name was Hayes.
Had she been married, too? Was that another secret from Sunny’s past?
Griz gave a little chuff-like sound, drawing his eye. She sat in the space between kitchen and living room, licking a paw daintily.
“You’re welcome.” He went past her, and she didn’t even try to grab him, just kept him under surveillance as he rinsed the cat food can.
He topped off the water dish, refilled both food dishes. “In case you get hungry tonight,” he said. And then he rinsed the cans and checked to be sure all the doors and windows were locked, and the heat was turned down, and the litter box was scooped, and nothing was plugged in, turned on or running that shouldn’t be. And then he left, locking the door behind him.
Griz actually mewed at him, like she didn't want him to go.
“You know who that guy lurking around the floor is?” Doc Sophie asked the next morning. She stood beside the bed, skimming Sunny’s chart,
“I don’t know who anybody is, remember?” The neurologist had come and gone, spending less time with her than it would take to diagnose a pimple.
“Well, he seems to be interested in your room, so I thought you might have an idea.” Sophie took her stethoscope from her pocket and cupped the business end with her hand to warm it. “I don’t blame you if you’
re cranky. You want your life back. But the neurologist and I agree that this is likely to resolve itself in time.”
“I just want to go home. Is there any medical reason for me to be here?”
“Not a one. You’re being released today.”
“That’s fantastic. Thank you. That’s…that’s great.”
“You um…you didn’t ask how long.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “You said today. I assume as soon as the paperwork’s done–”
“Not how long 'til you can leave. How long until your memory will come back. You didn’t ask.”
She blinked. “I figured if you knew the answer to that, you’d have said so already.”
She looked her in the eyes. “Sunny, you’re not…faking this for some reason, are you?”
Sunny almost panicked. Her eyes widened, and then she quickly covered by blinking them fast and pressing a hand to her chest. “What a horrible thing to ask me!” She dropped her face into her palms.
“I’m sorry.” The doc touched her shoulder, but Sunny jerked away, sniffled twice and said, “Just leave me alone.”
“Okay. Listen, you have two visitors waiting out front. Angie and Kiley. They’re your best friends.”
They were. Angie had lost her husband in Afghanistan, and was raising two kids alone. And Kiley treated her like the sister she would never be. She couldn’t lie to them.
“I can’t. I…I really…I just can’t.” She lifted her head. “Sophie, please, please just ask them to leave. And don’t tell them I’m being released. I need…I need some time.”
“Okay. You sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah. Just… Yeah. I’m gonna get dressed.”
“I’ll send a nurse in.”
“I already hit the call button.”
She nodded, frowned at her, but finally left her alone. Sunny peeled the tape off her forearm, and slid the IV clean out of her arm, then held pressure on the hole it left as she kicked her way out of the bed. She opened the little closet where her clothes were all stuffed in a giant plastic bag with handles and the words “Patient’s Belongings” in blue across the front.
There were her things. She’d have preferred fresh ones, but she could get some at home. She just wanted to leave. Now.
She took her fingers off the IV hole in her arm and watched for bleeding. It turned dark red but didn’t leak, so she ducked into the tiny bathroom to change. Her head was killing her, and there was barely room to bend over in the small restroom. There was a roll of adhesive tape, though. She ripped a small piece off with her teeth, and stuck it over the needle hole so she wouldn't bleed all over her clothes. That pale blue sundress.
Jason was right, when he said her wardrobe was inspired by that photo of her mother. And not just her wardrobe, her entire life. Everything about her was built around her mother, pieced together from a single photograph and faded, dusty memories.
She put on the blue sundress she’d chosen for Jason.
Jason. Oh, dammit, Jason. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She didn’t want to leave him.
But she didn't want him dead, either.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. The big white patch on the side of her head was a welcome distraction. Jeeze, she couldn't walk around like that. She picked at the edges of the tape, got it loose, and peeled back the gauze pads. A long crooked row of black stitches cut diagonally across the swastika, adding a third set of arms to the thing. Maybe that changed its meaning somehow.
She folded the gauze into a smaller rectangle that just covered the wound, taped it on. Then she combed her hair all over to one side, covering the bandage, resulting in a one-eyed Jessica Rabbit sort of look.
She was still pushing it around on her head as she walked out of the little lav and right into Jason McIntyre's chest.
“There you are,” he said, clasping her shoulders reflexively. “I was worried you’d skipped out on me.”
She looked up at him, her gaze dancing all over his face because she couldn't look him in the eyes.
“Aww, Sunny, don't be so sad. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”
She couldn’t help but sink against him. She just couldn't stop herself. She leaned in, and turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest, and felt his heart beating. His arms closed around her, and his breath rushed out of him. She'd always loved the safe feeling she had when he wrapped her up against him. It was the only time she ever felt entirely safe. She spent every other second of her life waiting for an anvil to drop on her head. But not when Jason held her.
It felt better than it ever had, somehow. But it couldn’t last. She couldn’t stay. She lifted herself away from him eventually, stood straighter, forced her voice not to waver. “I’m sorry. This is all just overwhelming. What are you…what are you doing here?”
“Came to see you. Wanted to let you know your friend Eve is staying at the Long Branch. We'll take good care of her."
"Why didn't she just stay at my place?"
He looked at her, like he was seeing inside her brain, and she cleared her throat, went to her bed to straighten the covers, and added, "What's a Long Branch, anyway?"
He took a long time to answer. "My brother's saloon."
“Oh."
Silence stretched tight, and he finally broke it. "I brought you a card from Matilda Louise."
He was holding it out when she turned, a folded piece of green construction paper. She took it with hands that felt ice cold, unfolded it, and saw the six-year-old's crayon, glue and glitter artwork. There was a princess with a bandage on her head, and a little girl holding flowers.
She could not prevent hot tears from filling her eyes. "That's so sweet."
"She loves you."
"I love her, too." She bit her lip. "I mean, I must, right? How old is she?"
"Six. She's my brother's little girl. Calls you Aunt Sunny even though we're not..." He shrugged, letting the words trail off.
She refolded the paper and held it, wishing she had a bag to put it in. "They’re letting me go today,” she said. “Just as soon as the paperwork’s done.”
“Perfect timing. I can give you a ride. That okay with you?”
She nodded. “I’d like that. Let me text Eve so she doesn’t come all the way over here looking for me.” She bit her lip. "The nurse says I'm from Big Falls, about an hour away."
"And what makes you think The Long Branch is in Big Falls?"
She didn't reply, just kicked herself mentally, went to the nightstand where she’d left her phone, and texted Eve. “Being released. Jason driving me home. Meet u there?”
“Absolutely.”
She deleted the conversation, and pocketed the phone.
"You remember Eve, then." He said it like a statement, not a question.
"Yes, from yesterday. She was here when I first woke up."
"You knew her number was in your phone. Pulled it right up."
"She texted me earlier."
"She didn't mention she was staying at The Long Branch?"
"No, she didn't. I assumed she'd gone to my place." She finished her room search, finding nothing, because there was nothing to find, and faced him again. "I'm ready whenever you are."
“I thought you had to wait for paperwork.”
“I don’t want to wait. I want to go. Right now. Can we just go?” “Yeah. Sure.”
He kept a hand on her upper arm, like he always did. Like if she should stumble and fall, he’d be able to catch her. And she didn’t doubt for a minute that he would. He was suspicious. She'd known he would never fall for such a cliché. Amnesia. He wasn't an idiot.
He walked her out the door, down the hall, and she was sure someone would call out and stop them, but the nurses were all busy, and she was in civilian clothes, and looked like she knew where she was going.
They went through the double doors to the elevators, and he was helping her into his oversized truck before there was so much as a sign her absence had
been noticed.
Chapter 7
Jason was 99% convinced Sunny's amnesia was a big fat lie. The problem was, Sunny Cantrell, the Sunny he knew, would never tell such a lie.
And yet she had. And she'd lied about other things, too, like when and how her family had died and being an only child. He'd tried to Google the Hayes family overnight, but it was such a common name that there were a few million results. He even tried Sunny Hayes, but there was no result at all on that search.
He was angry and hurt and worried about her. But he made small-talk on the ride from Tucker Lake to Big Falls all the same, mainly because he hadn't decided how to handle all this yet. And because she was fresh from the hospital, and while the amnesia might be phony, the thirteen stitches in her head were real enough.
She seemed interested in hearing him describe her life to her. He told her that her bakery was one of the most successful businesses in town, and how important it was to the community.
She looked surprised. "How is an ordinary bakery so important to Big Falls?" she asked as if she didn't believe him. Or maybe she wanted to be convinced.
"Are you kidding? Sunny's Place is the only bakery in town. You're a part of every baby shower, every graduation party, every wedding, and even most of the funerals. Big Falls wouldn't know what to do without you, Sunny."
"Without the bakery, you mean," she corrected.
"Without you," he countered.
He watched her a lot, looking for her expression to give away the truth. She'd slipped several times already. Tearing up over Matilda's card, knowing where the Long Branch was before he'd told her.
Falling into his arms, and resting her full length against him, like she always did when something was sad or scary or upsetting.
"Your apartment is on the second floor," he said, because describing her place some more would distract him from how bad he wanted her to break, and admit she was faking, and that she remembered him, and tell him what the hell was going on.
"Oh, is it?" Like she didn't already know. "What's it like?"
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