Forget Me Not

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Forget Me Not Page 2

by Brenda Jackson


  Chicago was the last place where she would want him stranded, too, but his safety came first. She, of all people, knew her husband hated long-distance driving. Five hours wasn’t bad, but for Devon, it might as well be ten. “I don’t know, Devon. I don’t feel good about you being on the road for five hours.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ll be fine. I will drink as much coffee as I need to. Besides, it’s daytime and not night. I’ll be okay. Will it make you feel better if I call you when I’m at the halfway point?”

  She smiled. “Yes, then I could sing to you.”

  He chuckled. “On second thought, maybe I won’t call you. Your talents are not with your voice.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Just keeping it honest, Mrs. Ryan. God, I can’t wait until I’m home.”

  “And I can’t wait for you to get here. I can’t believe it’s number five for us. When you look back over the years, what means the most to you?”

  “Hmm, that’s easy. Although there were lots of things, I believe my most cherished moment was our wedding day.”

  She recalled that day vividly. It had been an outdoor wedding at her parents’ home and everything had cooperated, especially the weather, to make it a perfect day. “What do you remember the most?”

  “The moment you walked down the aisle on your father’s arm to me. Looking into your face, seeing you smile, your happiness in getting married to me... That moment touched me deeply, profoundly. My mind blotted out everything and everyone and just focused on you. Only you were the center of my attention. My universe. You still are.”

  “You’re mine, too.” Devon’s words touched her deeply. She needed to get off the phone before she got all emotional on him. “Drive carefully, and whenever you do make a stop, call me. Or else I’ll worry.”

  “And the last thing I want you to do is worry. My plane from Cincinnati lands a little after six, so I should be home around seven. I still want you in bed when I get there. Now, that’s where your true talent lies.”

  Ashley threw her head back and laughed. “Horny man.”

  “Can’t help it, baby. Love you. Bye.”

  “Love you back. Bye.”

  Ashley clicked off the phone and smiled. Devon had yet to tell her of his plans for their fifth anniversary—she knew he was planning something. Emmie was right when she said Devon liked doing things in a big way. He also liked surprising her. She had no problem with it because she always liked his surprises.

  She was about to go into the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee when her doorbell sounded. Ashley quickly moved toward the door and glanced out the peephole to see a woman standing there with a huge beautifully wrapped gift box.

  “May I help you?” she asked, before opening the door.

  “Yes, I have a delivery for Ashley Ryan.”

  Smiling, Ashley opened the door. After she signed the log, the woman handed her a gift-wrapped box. Moments later Ashley was quickly tearing off the bow to see what was inside. There was an envelope and inside were plane tickets to Jamaica, with the flight leaving in two days. Joy swept through her, although two days barely gave her much time to pack, but she would manage.

  Also inside was a smaller wrapped box. She tore off the tissue paper and her breath caught when she saw a pair of yellow baby booties with a matching bib. Tears came to her eyes when she read the card.

  I’m ready to start making babies in Jamaica. There’s not another woman I’d want as the mother of my sons and daughters.

  Love,

  Devon

  * * *

  DEVON PULLED INTO a roadside stop. He hadn’t eaten breakfast and wanted something else in his stomach other than coffee. He was making good time and so far wasn’t feeling tired. Luckily, he was keeping his mind revved up by thinking of all the plans he had for Ashley when he got home.

  He grabbed a bagel and coffee and was back on the interstate. A half hour later he was thanking God for GPS when he had to take a detour due to heavy rain in the area that had left several streets flooded. Eventually he made it back onto the interstate.

  It stopped raining and he was glad. He slowed down for the slippery roads and couldn’t believe how fast semis were flying by regardless of the wet conditions as they headed back toward the interstate.

  Devon adjusted the volume on the radio when he saw the hitchhiker standing ahead with a backpack. It looked as if there would be another downpour any minute and he hated the thought that the man would get caught out in it. Typically, he never picked up strangers, but considering his good luck of yesterday, he was still in a great mood. He’d never had to hitchhike and figured everybody had a story. He tried not to be judgmental and the guy seemed harmless.

  Before he could talk himself out of doing so, Devon pulled to the shoulder of the road, rolled the window down and asked, “Where are you headed?”

  The stranger smiled as he leaned in the window. “To Cincinnati, but I’m grateful to go as far as you can take me.”

  Devon smiled back. “You’re in luck. I’m headed to Cincinnati as well. I’ll give you a lift.” Devon figured at least he’d have company the last leg of the drive.

  A broad grin covered the man’s face. “Hey, thanks.”

  * * *

  “I’M DEVON, by the way,” he said to the man, who refused to look at him. Instead he preferred looking straight ahead. When the man didn’t say anything, didn’t even nod, Devon asked, “And you are?”

  It was then that the man glanced over at him. “Tom.”

  Devon nodded. “So, Tom, where are you from?”

  The man was staring out the windshield again. “Nowhere in particular.”

  Devon nodded again. “You have family in Cincinnati?”

  The man glanced over at him again. “No. You?”

  “No. I’m just trying to get to the airport. To catch a plane home.”

  The man nodded. “And where is home for you?”

  “South Carolina.”

  The man stared out the window again and Devon decided to keep his eyes on the road and conversation at a minimum. So much for thinking he’d picked up a passenger who would be company for him. This man only talked when spoken to and then you had to almost pull the words out of him.

  He drove for another fifteen to twenty miles when suddenly the man said, “Take the next exit.”

  Devon lifted a brow. Why would the man want him to get off the interstate? And then the obvious quickly came to mind. He needed a bathroom break. “There’s nothing at the next exit if you need a bathroom break. I’ll probably need to drive till the next one.”

  “No. You need to get off that exit now,” the man said with an edge to his voice.

  Devon didn’t appreciate the man’s tone of voice. Who the hell did he think he was talking to? If Devon got off at the next exit, it would be to tell the ingrate to get the hell out of the car and find another way to Cincinnati.

  He looked at the man to tell him just that and froze when he saw the gun pointed at him.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Three years later

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ASHLEY.”

  Ashley smiled across the breakfast table at Emmie, Kim and Suzanne. Three women whom she considered her closest and dearest friends. She honestly didn’t know what she would have done without them for the past three years. They had been her rock and, in some cases, her sanity. Yesterday Kim and Suzanne, whom she’d known since her high school days in Topeka, Kansas, had arrived in town to celebrate her thirtieth birthday with her.

  What she appreciated more than anything was that none of them ever said the words “We know just what you’re going through.” Because they didn’t. No one did. But at least they had given her their shoulders to cry on and there had been a lot of crying times.

  Emmie was the only one who lived in Hardeeville. Suzanne lived in Atlanta and Kim in Dallas.
“Go ahead and open your gift,” Kim was saying, smiling brightly.

  Ashley smiled back. The box was wrapped so prettily, she hated untying the bow. There was no telling what these three had bought her and she decided to try to guess. “Is it something I can eat?”

  Emmie laughed. “No.”

  “Umm, something I can wear?”

  “Nope,” Suzanne said, grinning. “Just open the darn box, and I’m telling the waiter to bring us another bottle of wine.”

  “Open it, Ash, before Suzanne drinks the whole bottle by herself,” Kim said, chuckling.

  “Oh, all right.” Ashley began untying the bow and used the edge of her polished fingernail to carefully ease off the wrapping paper. Inside the box and buried beneath tissue paper was an envelope with her name sprawled across it in beautiful cursive. Ashley Ryan. Sometimes her mother would suggest that she go back to using her maiden name of Hardwick, and it upset her every time—as if she could just erase those five years with Devon from her life.

  She slid her fingernail along the flap to open the envelope. “Ohh, wow...”

  It was a gift certificate for a two-week stay at Shelby by the Sea. She’d heard reservations at the exclusive bed-and-breakfast in Catalina Cove, a quaint shipping town an hour’s drive from New Orleans, were booked for a full year in advance.

  “We’re doing a girls’ trip,” Ashley said, smiling over at them.

  Suzanne shook her head. “No, it’s not a girls’ trip.”

  Ashley’s forehead bunched in confusion. “It’s not?”

  “No,” Kim said.

  “We know how hard these past three years have been for you, Ash,” Emmie was saying in a soft voice. “And we know you have decisions you need to make about a number of things.”

  Since they were her best friends, they were well aware that her mother was determined to get her back into the dating scene. Ashley was satisfied just being left alone. It seemed no one but her best friends understood that. Her mother, Imogene Hardwick, certainly didn’t. All she was concerned about was becoming a grandmother while she was young enough to enjoy her grandkids. Ashley had even overheard her mother whisper to her father that if Devon had to die at least he could have left her pregnant.

  Her parents’ moving to Hardeeville from Topeka was supposed to be temporary to give their daughter support, but Ashley saw it as just the opposite and wished they would return home. At least she’d gotten them out of her house after she’d come home from work one day to find her mother had removed all the framed photographs that Ashley and Devon had taken together. That had been the last straw and she’d asked them to leave that night.

  Her father had given her an appreciative nod. Although he hadn’t supported his wife’s foolishness, he was a weakling when it came to standing up to her. Instead of returning to Topeka like Ashley had hoped they would do, they had moved to an apartment across town, and three years later Imogene was still in Hardeeville, causing havoc in Ashley’s life.

  Ashley studied the gift certificate. “What will I do there for two weeks by myself?”

  “Definitely not what I’d do for two weeks by myself,” Suzanne said, wiggling her brows. Since Suzanne was a divorcée who swore never to marry again but to just have fun with men, they could imagine what she’d do.

  Emmie rolled her eyes before giving Ashley a pointed look. “For starters, you’ll get a break from your mother.”

  “True,” Ashley said, taking a sip of her coffee. Everyone chuckled since they all knew what a handful Imogene Hardwick could be.

  “You can relax and enjoy yourself.” Kim smiled and then added, “Jon Paul and I went to Catalina Cove for our honeymoon and loved it. I understand the original owner died and the owner’s niece inherited it. I heard she’s kept those things that made the bed-and-breakfast unique, yet she modernized some things that you can appreciate.”

  Ashley nodded. Since Kim and Jon Paul had gone there for their honeymoon, she wouldn’t be surprised if there were a number of honeymooners there. How would she feel sharing space with them when they were starting their lives together, and hers had ended the day she lost Devon on their fifth anniversary? However, Ashley knew why they were sending her there. She couldn’t grieve for Devon forever. At some point she needed to get on with her life. A life without the man she loved. But she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to move on and allow another man into her life.

  “We know what you’re thinking, Ash, and it’s okay if you come back with the same mind-set that you have now about things. But you can’t continue to work as hard as you do,” Emmie said, reaching out and touching her arm. “You haven’t taken any time off. You can’t continue to do so without giving your body and mind a break.”

  Ashley drew in a deep breath. Emmie was right. Since losing Devon, she’d thrown herself into her work. StayNTouch had become her lifeline. She had started the company with Emmie six years ago. They connected friends as most social media companies did. But they went a little further by planning periodic trips for their members; sending reminders of important events such as birthdays, weddings and reunions; and becoming a huge support group when needed. And for the past three years it had been a support for her as well.

  The membership was growing by leaps and bounds with Emmie handling the day-to-day operations and Ashley handling the daily blog pieces. They were a great team that worked well together. Throwing herself into her work meant less time to dwell on her pain. But the hurt was still there when she went home to an empty house. She’d thought of selling but she couldn’t when the place contained so many memories of her and Devon’s time together.

  “We want you to be happy, Ash.”

  She tried smiling through the heartache she still felt. “I know, but two weeks is a long time.”

  Suzanne chuckled. “If we could have gotten away with giving you a month, we would have. You need time to yourself, Ash. Away from your job, your house, your mother and those men she’s trying to shove down your throat every chance she gets.”

  The latter in and of itself was enough to make her want to pack tonight and leave for two weeks. She glanced at the gift certificate and then back at her friends, smiled and asked, “So, how soon can I leave?”

  * * *

  RAY SULLIVAN EASED up to sit on the side of the bed and rubbed his hand down his face. The morning sun was shining bright through a slit in the blinds as he glanced at the calendar pinned to the wall. The date was June 10. Why did he feel this date should have some meaning to him?

  It was days like this that he hated with a vengeance the situation he’d been in for the last three years. He was a man without a memory, and the sad thing was that he had no clue as to why or how he’d gotten in this predicament.

  The only thing he remembered was waking up in a hospital room after being told he’d been in a coma for three weeks. According to the doctor, he had been found by a jogger in a wooded area severely beaten. From the depth of his injuries, specifically the condition of his hands, wrists and knuckles, he’d put up a good fight, but in the end, he’d been pistol-whipped into unconsciousness. Massive brain trauma had resulted in retrograde amnesia. In other words, he had awakened from his coma a man with no memory of his past life.

  Due to the severity of his head injuries, there was a chance that he would never regain his memory. And since he hadn’t had any identifying articles on him, they couldn’t even contact the family who might be looking for him. The indentation on the third finger of his left hand led them to believe he was a married man. In fact, the doctors had told him that whoever assaulted him had almost broken Ray’s finger in forcing the ring off his hand.

  He had no recollection of a wife. There was a strong possibility she believed he was dead and there was a chance after all this time she had moved on with her life. If that was the case, what was stopping him with moving on with his?

  He’d asked himself that que
stion countless times and always came back to the same answer. The last thing he wanted was to meet someone and fall in love, only to get his memory back and be in love with another woman. It wouldn’t be fair to either woman. So he’d made the decision to remain a single man with no involvements.

  He had remained in the hospital three months before he’d been well enough to leave. He’d been well physically, but he doubted he would ever be well mentally again. How could he when he couldn’t remember anything...but one thing? He loved being out on the water.

  That was how he’d ended up in Catalina Cove, Louisiana. One of his doctors had reached out to a college friend who owned a shipping company in the small town. He’d been given the new identity of Ray Sullivan and was hired by Chambray Seafood Unlimited Shipping Company without so much as an interview.

  He had arrived a few days later in what Ray thought had to be the most breathtaking town he’d ever remembered seeing, but since he had no memory, that really hadn’t meant much. But still, he knew the job here was a godsend.

  From the townsfolk, he’d learned the parcel of land the cove sat on that backed out to the gulf had been a gift to the notorious pirate Jean Lafitte, from the United States of America for his role in helping the states fight for independence from the British during the War of 1812. Some believed he wasn’t buried at sea in the Gulf of Honduras like history claimed but was buried somewhere in the waters surrounding Catalina Cove.

  For years because of Lafitte’s influence, the cove had been a shipping town. It still was, which was evident by the number of fishing vessels that lined the piers in what was known as the shipping district. The Moulden River was full of trout, whiting, shrimp and oysters. Tourists would come from miles around to sample the town’s seafood, especially the oysters. Ray had been hired by Chambray to harvest all that seafood from the ocean.

 

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