by Marni MacRae
“Eve.” Nick is at my side when I look up, his brow furrowed and confusion, no—concern—coloring his eyes. “You must know that you are beautiful. Sincerely, I’m not trying to boost you up. You truly are lovely.” His voice lowers, and he rests a hand on my lower back. “You are not diminutive in any way. I’m sorry I called you Little Bit.”
“You’re perfect, sweetie.” Laurel joins us at the small table and nods pointedly, holding my gaze. “Men don’t know how to keep their feet from their mouths, but I agree with Nick. You’re lovely. Choose a name that you connect with. Make it your own.”
Choose a name I connect with. I know Laurel means well, but I have nothing to connect to. No place or history. I don’t know my ethnicity or an old family name to resurrect.
I don’t want to slide back into a place that leaves me feeling hopeless. I have already made an agreement with myself to move forward, make the best of my clean slate. But, somehow, a name is the first step toward that. An identity I can own and proclaim. If I never discover my true origins, I want to have at least this foundation to build upon.
“Surnames originated from descriptives to set people apart.” Nick’s deep voice beside me pulls me back to the paper with the blank line. “Like, Tom Vale is the Tom who lives in the Vale, and Tom Johnson is the son of John.”
“Oh, yes, good idea.” Laurel claps her hands together and grins. “My last name is Davis, it means, Son of St. David.”
“And Donovan is Irish, it means ‘strong fighter’ or ‘brown-haired chieftain,’ depending on whether you ask my father or my brother.” Nick nods at the blank line and catches my eye. His gaze holds mine for a moment as his gray eyes warm, and I feel myself leaning toward him. My body wanting to feel the warmth I know is there.
“Why not Brighton?” he asks tenderly, and I find my center refocusing on the question.
“Brighton?”
“As in Brighton Valley. Eve Brighton.”
“But…I’m not from here.”
“Eve is.”
And, of course, Nick is right. Eve is. She was born in a field south of Brighton Valley and christened Eve right here in Brighton Valley hospital. Like a newborn. Eve, pre-apple. Innocent and new. Eve Brighton. I like it.
I feel the tension and weight of struggling to identify myself slide out of me. New beginnings. A home and a fresh start. There is a place in me that sighs as if I had accomplished the purpose set before me. I forgot. I forced me into a cage deep inside and struck out through forest and field to find a safe haven. A fresh start.
“Eve Brighton. It’s perfect. Thank you, Nick.”
I acknowledge that Nick has saved me. He has named me. First and last, as if he were a parent bringing a child into the world. Keeping me safe. Giving me a name and welcoming me into his life.
No, not a parent. My feelings toward Nick are far from childlike. A friend.
I turn to the blank line and take the pen from the table. With a growing sense of light and hope, I lean over the paper and sign my name. Eve Brighton.
“Oh, my gosh, I feel like we need birthday cake and streamers. Balloons and revelry!” Laurel takes the paper and hands me another to sign, and I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm.
“It’s not my birthday.”
“It kind of is! Well, I guess yesterday was, but today is your release-into-the-world day. Like a wounded animal turned back to the wild.” Laurel takes the last signed sheet from me and winks. “We should party, birthday girl.”
“No parties, Laurel. You can swing by her place at Thornton’s palace, but let’s hold off on the alcohol until Eve gets her feet under her.”
Laurel leans in and gives me a hug, whispering loud enough for Nick to hear, “He’s not the boss of you.”
Nick chuckles, and I laugh along with him. “I know, but he is kind of bossy and really big. We should probably just stick to Jell-O and chocolate cake for our celebration. No Pepsi.”
I am warmed by my two friends, both so protective and both full of kindness—even if Laurel’s is laced with some spirit.
“I will come by tomorrow. I’ll bring you a latte, and we can start working on your list.”
“Oh, that sounds nice.” I have no idea what a latte is but have no intention of turning down something new. It’s time I started learning of the wilds I am being released into.
In her black-heeled boots, Laurel clips confidently across the room and out into the hall. Nick and I follow.
I have only been in this room for just under twenty-four hours, but for me, it has been a lifetime. Literally and figuratively. The threshold into the hall is a line I have stared at over the last day. A symbol of “out there.” The unfathomable world I do not know. It excites me and thrills me just as much as it terrifies me. The butterflies in my stomach burst to life as I step through the doorway, crossing into my first moments of freedom. My life as Eve Brighton.
“Here is your file and paperwork.” Laurel had gone over to a desk a few strides down the long hallway and retrieved a folder which she hands to me. “You will find the counselor’s information in there for your Friday appointment as well as other information that might be useful to you. Just flip through it when you get to your new place, and if you have any questions, I wrote my phone number in there. Call me anytime. Or the hospital. Or Dr. Eston.” Laurel steps forward and gives me a brief squeeze, then pats Nick on the shoulder. “Be gentle, big boy.” She flashes us both a wide smile. “I gotta run. My shift has been over for an hour, and Tuck is waiting.”
“Thanks for everything Laurel. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” I almost don’t want her to leave, but I know she must be exhausted from working overnight. I feel greedy and needy for the impulse to reach out and ask her to stay.
As we watch her walk down the hall, her boot heels clicking on the tile, Nick rests his hand on my shoulder and nods toward Laurel. “You have an honest friend in her. She’s a good egg.”
I smile and turn to Nick with my folder clutched in my hands. “Yes. I am lucky. I have two wonderful friends.”
Nick leaves his hand on my shoulder, and I feel the heat of his skin through my thin blouse. His eyes are clouded, like a spring storm. The gray almost appears to swirl as I stare into them, and I wonder if he is upset that I called him my friend. I worry it was presumptuous of me. Perhaps he is merely finishing what he started, and once he delivers me to Ms. Thornton, I will never see him again.
The thought clenches at my heart, and the butterflies awaken again in the pit of my stomach. They flutter and swirl inside me like a storm to match the one brewing there in Nick’s hypnotic, gray gaze. The silence between us grows until I feel the panicked need to fill it. To say anything. Ask if he is my friend. To apologize. To make him stop staring at me like I am something he doesn’t understand.
“I’m sorry.” I whisper it. But we are close, somehow closer than we had been a moment ago, though I don’t recall moving. I know he hears me, and I watch the change in him. The confusion that darts across his eyes, furrowing his brow. Then his hand slides down my arm and takes my hand, gently pulling me closer.
We are still standing in the empty hospital hallway, but it feels as if I stepped into a furnace. As if I stepped onto the sun. The heat that pours off Nick is like electricity. It strikes at me. Wrapping around and drawing me in. Filling me with tingling volts of energy until I realize a good portion of the heat I feel is pouring from me. Together, if we touch, I fear we may burst into flames. But I can’t not touch him. I am too close. And I want to, so badly.
I don’t understand what I am feeling. This heart-racing, ear-ringing sensation that is filled with a yearning. A desire like thirst, that borders on need. I don’t understand it. But I don’t fight it. Both of Nick’s hands are on my waist now, pulling me up to him, my body lining up against his. Although I am small and slight, I feel like we fit. My eyes are level with his throat, and I can see his heartbeat there. It pounds in time to mine, and I glance up to see the storm in his e
yes has turned into a smoking haze.
We remain silent. I am not sure what I would say if I could find my voice. My thoughts are scattered and twirling. Everything in me that I feel has nothing to do with thinking.
My mouth parts as I look up and take a breath, and my hands slide up his chest with their own journey in mind. I need to be closer. I feel it in me. There is a spark in my center that is growing and pulsing toward that need. And I rise on my toes, stepping into Nick. My arms reaching around his neck. And then suddenly his mouth is on mine, and I have no idea what happened. Then as quickly as the surprise shoots through me, the need takes over, and I respond.
His mouth is the hottest part of him. I can feel his heart beating against my breasts, and I moan as they tighten in response. I can’t recall ever having a man’s mouth on mine, but the sensation is beyond anything I would have imagined. It isn’t just my lips that feel it. As the soft heat of his mouth parts and his tongue slides to touch mine, I feel the kiss in every cell of me and instantly I am his. I open to him and his arms tighten. Our breath is tangled as we pant and open to each other more, the kiss deepening into something that I sense will bring me that desperate need I crave. Something I don’t understand. But then, what do I? The list is too long, so I add this craving to it and follow Nick into the sun. Into the burning. Until the pounding of blood in my ears blocks out everything but him.
Nick breaks the kiss as suddenly as it began, pulling back marginally but not releasing me from his grasp. He turns his face slightly, aligning our heated cheeks, and I feel his breath fluttering my hair on my neck. The sensation is thrilling, and I press my face into the hollow of his neck inhaling the scent of him. Pulling strength and warmth from his strong arms that are wound around me. Holding me up.
Perhaps he won’t leave after all. The whisper in my mind calms me and makes me want to burrow deeper into him. But Nick steps back slowly and lets his hands slide from my back to my waist.
“Eve.” His voice is rough, and he takes a moment, swallowing, and blowing out a breath. “We should…well, we probably shouldn’t do…oh, hell.” Nick drop his hands from me and reaches up to run his fingers through his hair. “We should think about this, Eve.”
He clears his throat again and I step back. Unsteady without his arms there to hold me up. Nick seems as confused as I am, and I have to wonder, what just happened? The rush and heat and loss of reason had been so quick and intense I feel like I need a glass of water. To sit down and figure myself out again.
I settle for reaching down to pick up the file that had slipped from my hands during my momentary loss of control, sliding a few errant pages back inside the manila folder. I don’t regret what happened but make a note to ask Laurel about it. About how it felt and what I should do…if it happens again? If it doesn’t? I sigh, hoping in my heart that Nick isn’t sorry about the kiss. It was confusing, yes, but I am far from sorry it happened.
When I rise again, Nick seems a bit clearer, and he reaches out and takes the folder from me.
“It’s clear you are going to be my undoing. I will have to find a way to deal with that.” Nick runs his fingers along my cheek to my jaw, and I feel that the heat has not completely died down. “For now, yes, we are friends. Let’s just see where things go from here.”
Then, taking my hand, Nick guides me along the hallway to a door marked exit.
“Let’s get you to her ladyship.”
Chapter 12
As we walk down the hallway Nick reaches out and catches my arm. "Eve, wait."
I wonder if he is going to mention the kiss. I hope he gives me some direction or clarification. “I will deal with it” seems almost final. As if he regrets the intimacy, wishes he hadn’t touched me. I prepare myself for the distancing. Certainly I am hoping for too much in dreaming of a connection between Nick and me. I’m practically a newborn after all.
I pause beside him, his tall frame gracing the sterile hallway like a foreign being. Nick belongs in trees. Or on a mountain. Not a pale, lifeless, hallway with flickering lights that give off an unnatural glow.
“I spoke with Lee this morning.”
I feel myself relax at the words and nod. “Yes, Officer Hansette—Sam—came by this morning and gave me the latest information.”
Nick’s brow raises at that, but he too nods and continues, “They believe you weren’t in a vehicle, so they called off searching for anyone else.”
“Yes, Dr. Eston agreed with Sam. He says I had no seatbelt marks, bruises, or cuts to indicate an accident.” I look down at the square tiles beneath our feet and lower my voice. “He thinks I forgot…on purpose.”
I raise my eyes to Nick’s, hoping not to find judgment there. His gray gaze shows only concern, and his hand reaches out to rest on my shoulder.
“Did he say why? What to do?”
I shrug and shake my head. “No, he said I may remember tomorrow…or never. Honestly, Nick, if I forgot on purpose, if I left something that was so bad I wiped all of me away with it…well, should I want to get that back?”
It was the first time I had voiced aloud what I had decided in the mirror. I hope I don’t sound like a coward. Or worse, crazy.
“Eve, you’re just now discovering small pieces of this mystery. Maybe you should take it a day at a time. Talk to the therapist, get advice from someone who would give you quality answers. I don’t know anything about amnesia, but I care for you. I can’t stand the thought of you going back to something that harmed you.”
I’m relieved he didn’t judge me and warmed he shows such caring and consideration for a woman he has known for a day and a kiss.
“Thank you, Nick. I will think about it. And I have decided to accept Eve.” I shrug and laugh softly. “I have no other me to be. I’m just grateful I landed here, with you and Laurel and Ms. Thornton. Without Brighton Valley, I would be nameless. Homeless. Thank you.”
I hug him impulsively. His strong arms wrap around me, and I try to push all my gratitude and hope into the embrace. I want so badly for him to understand what he is coming to mean to me. After a moment I step back, releasing my hold and breaking contact. I take a deep breath and smile from my heart.
“Now, how about releasing me into the wild.”
Nick laughs warmly and takes my hand. “As you wish, little dove.”
Down a flight of stairs and another hallway, Nick guides me through the hospital to the doors we had entered only yesterday. As we pass the blue-cushioned chairs I am amazed at the difference in how I feel now, to how I felt while sitting in them only a day ago.
Time heals all wounds. My mind quickly references a quote I don’t know where I heard or who said it. The mind is indeed a tricky thing to figure out. A storehouse of information without any reference to origin. I’m all right with that. My acceptance of my situation has brought a new perspective to everything. It released the panic, the fear, and brought potential and hope. Always forward.
The sun is shining down in welcoming warmth as we step outside, and I turn my face to it. Soaking in the moment. “The wild.”
Nick chuckles. “Well, released to her ladyship, which is pretty far from the wilds, considering.”
I tilt my head to the side and study Nick as we cross the drying black pavement. “Why do you call Ms. Thornton her ladyship?”
Nick approaches his truck, parked in almost the exact same spot from yesterday, and gives me a wink. “She owns the town. Well, most of the town, and maybe a few other towns for all I know. I do know, however, that Elizabeth Iris Thornton is richer than Midas and loves to use her money to…help.”
“You say that like you disapprove.” I frown as Nick opens the passenger door for me and helps me climb into the cab. “Is she mean?”
“No, not mean. People with that much money tend to grow to believe they can have anything, simply by want of it. Including people. Ms. Thornton is a charitable woman. She has donated just about everything the hospital has, to benefit patients, and that’s good. But it beholden
s doctors to her. She donates to charities and helps financially in large amounts. But when you own every building that every business in a town is in, that town tends to fear or idolize or resent the owner. It’s a mixed bag really.”
“It seems you resent her.”
“No. Actually, I purchased land from her recently, and she was a very fair business woman throughout the deal. It’s her attitude that rubs me the wrong way. Money is power, and with that much power comes great responsibility. Brighton Valley is lucky to have a benefactress—I just bristle at self-entitled people. I heard you bristled a bit yourself.”
I wait until Nick has rounded the truck and climbs inside, buckling his seatbelt—which reminds me to do the same—before I respond.
“I did bristle, but I realized she was testing me. Ms. Thornton. She wanted to see if I had the strength to stand up for myself. If she hadn’t rolled over me like she had, I may not have known I had it in me to fight back.”
Nick pauses with the key in the ignition and looks over at me.
“You would have known, Eve. Perhaps not right then, but what you are made of shows when tested. Ms. Thornton tested you so she would know how to handle you.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that. I play back the scene in the hospital room when Ms. Thornton breezed in, and after thinking it through, I decide we are both right. But I still like Ms. Thornton. She has a spark in her that I admire.
“I’m sure she has your best interests at heart, Eve,” Nick reassures me. “She has nothing to gain by helping you. And she wasn’t lying—the whole town would mob you with questions and false friendships just to be close to the newest drama. No one will dare bother you at her ladyship’s though.”
Turning the key, Nick starts the truck, pressing a pedal under his foot and moves the knobbed stick coming up from the truck floor. I am going to have to ask about how this truck works. I make a note to put it on my list.
