His head spun. His pulse raced. It couldn’t be.
He was vaguely aware of a car screeching to a halt next to the curb, of Mitch climbing out of his Land Rover, of Julia’s hysterical voice as she tried to pull him back into the house, but he couldn’t feel her hands. Couldn’t seem to stop his feet from moving forward. He felt like he was in a fog. A dream. Like he was hallucinating in broad daylight.
Somehow he made it down the block, stopped in front of her. Stared at her in shock. At his side he heard Mitch mutter, “Mother of God.”
No one spoke. For a long minute there was nothing but silence. And fear and hope and utter disbelief. And then his heart lurched in his chest.
“Oh, my God.” He closed the distance between them, cupped her face in his hands, ran his fingers over the smooth skin of her jaw. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a dream. Memories bombarded him from every side, condensed beneath his breastbone and squeezed as he soaked her in. As he felt her pulse beat beneath his fingers. As the heat of her body surrounded him to leave him foggy and light headed.
She was real. She was warm and soft and alive beneath his fingers. She was…Annie.
She stared into eyes. Recognition flared in the depths of those green gems. And that connection they’d had from the very start, from the first second they’d met so long ago, burned hot and bright, warming him in places he hadn’t even realized had gone cold.
All this time. All these years…
“Annie,” he whispered.
Her eyes darkened. The recognition fled. Was quickly replaced with confusion and…fear.
Before he could stop her, she jerked out of his arms, took a big step back. Held her arms out in a very clear don’t-touch-me move. “No.” She swallowed, looked from face to face with her brow drawn low, took another step away. “No, my name is Kate. Kate Alexander.”
Pain slashed through him. He tried to reach for her again, but Julia tugged hard on his arm, stopping him. “Dad, I told you it’s not her. It just looks like her. Dad, Daddy, listen to me. It’s not her.”
Not her? It had to be her. It had to be…
“Annie—”
She dodged his grip. And his heart felt like it shattered against the pavement at his feet. “I…I was hoping to ask you a few questions. I can see this isn’t a good time. I’ll just leave—”
“No!” Ryan and Mitch both said at the same time.
She jumped. Froze. Looked from face to face in bewilderment.
Holy God, it had to be her. It sounded like her. Ryan could never forget that voice. He didn’t know what the hell was going on but he didn’t want to scare her off. To keep from reaching for her, he scrubbed his hands over his face. Closed his eyes, shook his head, opened them again. She was still there. She wasn’t a figment of his imagination.
Why wasn’t she throwing herself into his arms? Why was she standing there looking at him as if he were a stranger?
“No,” Mitch said again, holding out his hands. “No, now’s fine.”
Her attention shifted his way. “Who are you?”
She didn’t know Mitch? She had to know her brother. She was Annie.
“Mitch Mathews. Ah, his brother-in-law.” Mitch nodded at Ryan. “Her…Annie’s…brother.”
Her brow wrinkled, then her green eyes grew wide. “Mitch Mathews. The geologist?”
A sly smile spread across Mitch’s mouth. “Yeah, same one.”
“Oh. Well.” A nervous look crossed her face. A face that Ryan now saw was different from what he remembered. Different but still familiar. “This is a little awkward. I, ah, I had no idea.” She ran a hand over her hair.
Ryan’s stomach tightened. It was the same unconscious gesture Annie always made when nervous.
“Me, either,” Mitch said. They studied one another for a minute. “I got your message.”
A rose tint stained her cheeks. “Well, you, ah, seemed a little fired up about the article. I guess I just responded…badly, I might say now, in light of the situation.”
Mitch grinned. Why the hell was he grinning?
“What are you two talking about?” Ryan asked, looking from one to the other. He felt like he was being hammered by prize-fighters from all sides, and they were acting like they knew each other. If Mitch had known Annie was so close and hadn’t told him—
“This is the editor, Ryan, the one I told you about. The one who wrote that article.”
Ryan looked back at her—at his Annie. At the woman who couldn’t be anything but his Annie. Why was she acting as if she didn’t know him? Why wasn’t she grabbing Julia, hugging her tight? Hugging him tight? Holding on to him like he needed to hold on to her?
As questions tumbled through his mind and he scanned her features again, he realized what looked different. Her nose was thinner, her cheekbones a little higher, and there was a scar near her temple he didn’t remember.
Editor. The one who wrote that article. Kate Alexander.
His chest pinched tight. Was it possible this woman wasn’t Annie?
His mind skipped to the conversation he’d had with Mitch in his office, and confusion replaced shock. “The nut-job?”
“Excuse me?” She shot a glare his way.
Mitch laughed. “No, no. It’s nothing. Just a joke. Ah, this is a little awkward. You…you look a lot like my sister. We’re all a little flustered, I think.”
What the hell was Mitch saying? She was his sister. Wasn’t she?
“Why don’t we go inside,” Mitch suggested. “You can tell us what this is about. Come on.” He motioned for the house. She eyed Ryan with suspicion, then stepped well out of his reach and up next to Mitch.
Ryan turned, stared after her as they headed for the house. Tried to clear his head. Was it possible someone else could look so much like his wife? Sound like her? If she wasn’t Annie, what was she doing here? Was this some kind of sick joke?
The sway of her step caught his attention. And his heart took a hard, sharp roll. She was built just like Annie, same strong legs and perfectly toned ass. She even walked like her.
Fate could not be so cruel. God could not be this cruel. There had to be an explanation. Pain lanced through his chest, speared what was left. He’d listen to whatever she had to say for Mitch’s sake. Then she was gone. He couldn’t take this in-your-face reminder of everything he’d lost.
He followed them into the living room where the leather couches Julia had helped him pick out formed an L-shape. She stood in the center of the room, staring out at the skyline of San Francisco for several seconds, then turned and glanced around the room. He didn’t know what she was looking at—or for—but as her gaze swept over the photos of Julia, of Mitch, of Annie, Ryan’s patience reached a tipping point.
Julia tugged on his arm, whispered, “Daddy” in a pleading voice, but he ignored her.
“Why are you here, Ms…what was your name again?”
She visibly jolted, then turned to face him, and from the way her green eyes widened, he knew the shock was gone from his face and had been replaced with the ice he felt inside. The ice he’d built up over the years just so he could survive.
He watched her pull up some invisible shield, watched her eyes harden as if she were looking at a complete stranger. As if the connection they’d shared in the street had never happened. “Your wife died in a plane crash, about five years ago, is that right?”
When he didn’t answer, she added, “And she died here in San Francisco. Is that correct?”
“You already seem to know the answers to these questions. Why are you here?” he asked again.
“A year and a half ago, I was in an accident that landed me in a coma.” She lifted her hand, rubbed at a spot on the side of her head. “When I woke up in a Dallas hospital, I couldn’t remember the accident or anything about my life before it. The doctors said the trauma did something to my long-term memory. Retrograde amnesia, they called it. I’d been told I was in a car accident. But now, I’m not so sure.”
“Why not?” Mitch asked, watching her closely too.
She glanced his way. “My husband died in that plane crash here a few weeks ago. After, when I was going through some of his papers, I found evidence that suggests I was in a nursing home here in San Francisco during that coma, not in Texas like I’d been led to believe. And that the coma had lasted close to three years, not four days. I’m not sure why my husband lied, or what it all means, but I came here to San Francisco looking for answers. I went to see a lawyer today for advice. The woman recognized me, said I looked a lot like Anne Harrison.” She glanced back at Ryan. “Your wife.”
Ryan’s head spun, and his pulse beat so hard it was a roar in his ears. The story was ludicrous. Insane. No way it was real.
“Who was the lawyer?” Mitch asked.
“Simone Conners.”
Mitch’s eyes found Ryan’s. He knew what Mitch was thinking. But it couldn’t be her. Yeah, she looked a lot like her, but now that the shock was gone he could tell she wasn’t the same. Annie’s nose had been different, her cheeks not as sharp. Maturity could change a person’s face and shape, but it didn’t reshape bone structure. Besides which, Annie was gone. She’d died in that crash. They’d buried her. It didn’t matter that they’d never had a body. No one had survived that crash.
“Simone’s thinks you might be Annie,” Ryan said. “That’s why you’re here.”
“No. Not exactly. In fact, she doesn’t know I’m here. She told me not to come, but I…” She bit her lip, then reached into her purse. Her eyes cut to Julia, standing at Ryan’s side, and a protective urge bubbled through him, one that made him want to tug his daughter tight to his side. With trembling fingers, she held a photo out to him. “I found this in a lockbox in my house.”
Hesitantly, Ryan reached for the picture. Looked down. And felt his entire world tip right out from under him.
Julia’s eyes widened as she glanced at the photo in his hand. “That’s me.”
Ryan’s head darted up. When she turned to look at Julia and tucked her hair behind her ear, he caught sight of a faded strawberry birthmark just below her left ear where her jaw met her neck. An upside down heart. One he’d kissed and licked and nibbled so many times he knew it as if it were his own.
Hope burst into flame in his chest. It was her. She was alive. She was…
He moved to reach for her. She stepped back to avoid his touch, and when her gaze fell on his, the look in her eyes registered. No recognition. No love. Nothing but emptiness and distrust.
Her reaction in the street slammed back into him. And that hope was quickly doused with ice.
Accident. Retrograde amnesia… Alive.
Sickness pushed up his esophagus. The room closed in around him as it had at her funeral, when the reality that he’d lost her forever had hit him like a ton of bricks.
But he hadn’t lost her. She was here. She was real. No matter what had happened to change her appearance, one thing remained. She was alive. She’d never gotten on that plane. She’d been here in San Francisco the whole time and he’d never looked for her. He’d never even thought to look for her.
Air choked in his lungs. The photo fluttered to the floor at his feet. He had to get away from her. Away from all of them before he lost it for good.
He walked out of the room. Didn’t know where the hell he was going. At his back, he heard Mitch mutter, “Ah, just give us a minute, okay?”
He made it as far as the kitchen. Needed to go farther, wasn’t sure his legs would carry him. Bracing his hands against the cold granite, he dropped his head, just focused on breathing. In and out. In and out. Hoped like hell it would alleviate the pain spearing his chest.
Don’t lose it. Keep it together for Julia.
His eyes slid shut, and he forced back the tears. Of all the scenarios he’d imagined over the years, this wasn’t one of them. In all of them, in the ones where she’d been alive, at least, she’d been as thrilled to see him as he was to see her. But this woman, this Kate Alexander didn’t know him. She wasn’t running into his arms. She wasn’t professing her love for him. She was just standing there, staring at him like he was…nobody.
And she’d said she had a husband. That pain cinched down tight until he could barely breathe. She’d gotten remarried. Her life had moved on while his had stood rooted in time, the memory of her the only thing that kept him going day after day.
“Ryan.”
Mitch. Dammit, he should have known Mitch would follow him.
He didn’t turn, couldn’t face Mitch’s eyes. “She doesn’t recognize us.”
“No, she doesn’t. It doesn’t mean it’s her.”
“It’s her. You saw the way she ran her hand over her hair. And she’s got the same damn birthmark near her ear.” His voice cracked. “That’s Annie.”
“We don’t know that.”
“I know it.” Ryan finally turned Mitch’s way. “I know it. I knew it as soon as I saw her.”
“It’s possible. But the chances are so remote. Look, I’ll agree she looks like her. Christ.” Mitch scrubbed at his jaw. “And her story, well, it could fit. But we don’t know for sure. She could be some crazy loon looking for money. Ryan, I don’t have to remind you you’re practically a celebrity. That draws the sickos right out of the woodwork. We don’t know if it’s her. There are tests we can take. DNA sampling—from me, from Julia.”
“It won’t matter. You and I both know it’s her, whether you want to admit it or not.”
“I need to know for sure.”
Ryan’s eyes slid shut. Mitch was so rooted in science, in the black and white of everything. But this situation was nothing but gray. “She doesn’t recognize us,” he said again.
“Ryan, don’t do this to yourself. Not yet. Let’s see what we find out. This could all just be a huge coincidence.”
Ryan turned to stare over the kitchen. Minutes ago, he’d been about to make Julia dinner. He’d planned to show her pictures of the new Jag Hannah had talked him into ordering. After, he was going to sit down with her and watch a movie. He was even going to let her choose one of her favorite Indiana Jones flicks that they’d already seen ten thousand times. Now…now he couldn’t figure out what the hell to do next.
“I gotta get out of here. You…you take care of it. Tell her whatever you want. I’ll go along with whatever you decide.”
“Ryan—”
“I need a few minutes, Mitch,” he snapped. He couldn’t stand looking into her blank eyes again, knowing she wasn’t remembering him or what they’d shared. He couldn’t deal with the pain. Pain he thought he’d gotten through long ago. Pain that was now sucking him under all over again.
He opened the back door and left before Mitch could stop him.
***
Kate studied the photos on the mantel while Ryan Harrison and Mitch Mathews spoke quietly in the other room. The face in the pictures looked like her, albeit a slightly different her. A river of unease rushed through her veins as she looked from photo to photo. The Harrisons on what looked to be a hiking trip. Annie Harrison in a hospital bed, holding a newborn. A wedding photo of Ryan and Annie on the day they were married, both dressed to the nines and grinning from ear to ear.
Her chest tightened, and her skin grew hot. If it was her in the photos, she didn’t remember any of the events. But the odd roll of her stomach told her that didn’t mean it wasn’t her either.
She looked quickly away from the photos, not wanting to go there yet, and scanned the room. Nothing about this house was familiar either. Not the furnishings or the pictures on the walls, though she did like the job Ryan Harrison’s decorator had done. Leather couches, plush pillows, chunky wood tables and trendy lamps she might have picked out herself if given the chance.
Her stomach rolled again at that thought, and she turned to find Julia Harrison staring at her with suspicious eyes. The girl had refused to utter a single word the whole time Ryan and Mitch were in the other room. Kate’s nerves kicked in. Staring down R
yan Harrison was one thing. Staring down his daughter when she very clearly wanted Kate gone was another.
She didn’t need this. She had enough problems in her life right now—moving to a new city, getting Reed adjusted to life without his father, trying to figure out what the hell had happened to her. And now, add to all that a man who could possibly be her real husband and a daughter who looked at her like she was the anti-Christ?
It couldn’t possibly get any worse, could it?
Mitch came back into the room, shot her a weak smile. Relief rushed through Kate like sweet wine when she saw him. As Julia slipped out of the room without a word, guilt rushed through Kate’s veins. It couldn’t be easy for the girl to see someone who looked so much like her mother. Kate hadn’t considered the girl’s feelings in all this when she’d decided to come by here today. She’d been so intent on finding answers, she hadn’t thought of anyone but herself.
Mitch watched her leave, then turned to face Kate. Heartache showed clearly in his features. And that guilt expanded ten-fold as she stared at him. This was so much harder for all of them than she’d anticipated.
Mitch blew out a breath. “We, ah, we think maybe there are enough similarities to warrant some tests. DNA tests to either prove or disprove the whole thing.”
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. Was it relief or regret? At this point, she wasn’t sure. “Yeah, that’s what I was hoping. I can have my lawyer set it up. It should be easy, just a blood sample from you, her brother, and possibly her daughter.” As she glanced around, her unease grew by leaps and bounds. Ryan Harrison obviously wasn’t coming back out to talk to her. “I should go.”
“Okay.” Mitch raked a hand through his hair. “I, ah, I’ll walk you out.”
He led her out of the house and back down the street to her car. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt comfortable with him, even if he’d been the one to leave her that nasty gram at her office. Funny…a few hours ago he’d been her biggest enemy. Now he seemed to be her only ally.
Wait for Me Page 6
