The pain in her voice tore at him and he reached for her. She allowed him to pull her back into his arms, back under the covers, but after a moment she pulled back and looked up at him.
“You know,” she whispered, her bottom lip quivering with emotion. “The first time you kissed me, you said it wasn’t right—you and I being together, Joe. It isn’t right.”
He reached down, running a hand along her cheek. “It feels pretty right to me.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “But I don’t even know who I am. How do we know what happened out there in the desert? How can we be so sure I was the victim out there? If I’d been stranded or kidnapped or…assaulted—”
“Cruz already told you there were no signs of a sexual assault,” he added quickly, interrupting her.
“I know, I know,” she conceded. “But the point is, if I was the victim, why hasn’t someone reported me missing? Why isn’t there a family or friends or an employer looking for me? What if it turns out that I’m a criminal—an escaped convict or something?”
“Then I guess I’d have to read you your rights and turn you in,” he said, refusing to be serious.
“What if it turns out when you find out who I really am, you won’t…you won’t—”
“Rain,” he said, stopping her protest with a finger on her lips. “I may not know the name you were born with, I may not know where you come from or what you do for a living, but I know who you are.” He brought her hand to his lips, placing a kiss into her palm. “I know your taste and your touch and how you feel lying beside me. I know how soft your skin is, how your eyes light up when you laugh and I know how you make me feel and nothing—nothing is ever going to change that.”
“I would hate it if you ever regretted—”
“Never,” he whispered, stopping her with a kiss.
It was a long time before he felt her body relax, before he felt her soft, rhythmic breathing and knew she’d finally drifted asleep. It was only then that he allowed himself to relax.
It haunted her. Every hour of every day, it haunted her. All those things she didn’t know, all those memories she couldn’t remember, they were always there, staring her in the face like a big black void. It didn’t seem to matter what she did or where she went, it was always there and it haunted her.
She slept now, but there would be no true rest for her, no real peace for either of them until they knew. Maybe she never would fully recover from the amnesia, maybe she would never remember, but she still had to know. She had to.
“One more time, Sheriff, pretty please.”
Joe looked into Annie Martinez’s innocent little face and melted. His shoulders ached from the “horsey” ride he’d just given her, but who could resist those bright eyes and crooked smile?
“Oh, no, you don’t, young lady,” Marcy said before Joe had a chance to answer. “It’s time for bed. You’ve stalled around long enough.”
“But, Mommy—”
“No buts,” Marcy warned, reaching for her daughter and lifting her down from Joe’s shoulders. “Say good-night.”
“Night,” Annie said in a tiny voice. She reached up and gave Joe a hug, then ran across the living room and into her father’s lap.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Marcy warned when Annie snuggled under the protection of her father’s arm. “Your father isn’t going to save you this time. Into bed.”
“Your mother’s right,” Cruz agreed, giving his daughter a hug. “Growing girls need their rest. Doctor’s orders.”
Frowning, Annie scrambled down from her father’s lap and marched out of the room.
Marcy watched, rolling her eyes, then turned back to the men. “Would either one of you like some coffee after I get Annie down?”
Joe and Cruz looked at one another and then back to Marcy and nodded.
“So,” Cruz said as he watched Marcy follow Annie out of the room. “Heard you took a few days off.”
Joe turned around. “Word gets around this town fast.”
Cruz laughed. “I went by the office the other day. Ryan told me.” He paused for a moment, his gaze narrowing. “He also happened to mention Rain was gone, too.”
Despite their close friendship, Joe felt uncomfortable. The four days he’d shared with Rain at his remote mountain cabin had been so wonderful and had meant so much, it was difficult to talk about. He’d never felt so free, so fulfilled, so complete as he had when he’d been with her. They’d hiked the mountain trails, cooked elaborate meals, sat up late into the night talking before a roaring fire, and made long, slow love in the loft on his feather bed. There were a million reasons why he never should have let it happen, why he never should have allowed himself to feel anything, to let things to go as far as they had and only one reason why he’d made the only choice he could. He’d never been so happy in his life.
He was in love and part of him wanted to shout it from the rooftops and part of him wanted to keep it all to himself, to hide it away from the rest of the world. He knew Cruz wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t condone or condemn, but his feelings for Rain were still so new and their situation fraught with so many complications it made it difficult to talk about.
“Uh, yeah, we, uh, went up to the boonies for a few days.”
“Oh, yeah? Get any fishing in?”
Joe’s face felt flushed. “No, not really.”
The was an awkward moment of silence, one where whatever unspoken message Joe had intentionally or unintentionally meant to communicate to Cruz about his reluctance to talk about Rain managed to hit its mark. Cruz nodded, changing the subject.
“So you said you had something you wanted to talk about?”
“Yeah,” Joe said, settling himself into a chair across from Cruz. “I know you’re not treating Rain any longer and I’m sure if McGhan thought this was a possibility he would have done it already, but I was just wondering about hypnosis.”
“Hypnotizing Rain, you mean, in an effort to help her recover her lost memories?” Cruz summed up for him.
Joe shrugged and laughed. “Exactly.”
Cruz smiled. “Hypnosis can sometimes be helpful, but it’s not a cure-all.”
“Do you think it could help Rain?”
“Hard to say,” Cruz admitted. “There are a lot of things to consider, the least of which is the patient’s susceptibility. Some people simply can’t be hypnotized. And in all honesty, I’m sure if Mike McGhan thought it was right for Rain, he’d have used it by now.”
“Has he said anything to you?” Joe asked. “I mean, does he send you any kind of report or anything?”
“Not really,” Cruz said. “Rain is his patient now.”
Joe let out a tired sigh and rubbed at his scratchy eyes. It had been stupid to think that the doctor treating Rain would have overlooked anything. He was just so frustrated, and felt so helpless because he didn’t have anywhere else to turn.
“Yeah,” he said, opening his eyes and drawing in a shaky breath. “I kind of figured it was something like that.”
Cruz sat up, regarding Joe for a long moment. “I should probably give Mike a call, just check in and see how things are going.”
“Could you do that?” Joe asked, perking up. “I’d— I’d feel better.”
Cruz nodded. “No problem.”
Joe gave his head a shake. “It’s not that I don’t think everything is being done, I was just hoping…” He stopped and gave his head another shake. “Grasping at straws.”
“How is Rain doing?” Cruz asked after a moment
Joe shrugged. “She keeps up a front, of course, smiling and laughing, but I know she’s troubled.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms along his thighs. “And frankly, Cruz, I’m worried about her. The dreams…they seem to be getting worse—nightmares really.”
“Does she remember much about them?”
“Bits and pieces, nothing specific.” He sat back up, pushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Except Logan.”
“Logan. The name
she kept calling out the night you brought her in.”
Joe nodded. “She has dreams and she wakes up calling—‘Logan, Logan, Logan.’”
“Logan?”
Both men turned as Marcy walked in, carrying a small tray holding three mugs of coffee.
“Are we talking about Rain’s Logan?” she asked, handing Joe one of the steaming mugs. “Have you had any luck with that?”
“Only bad,” Joe admitted, taking the mug from her. “I’ve run it through every Fed and state criminal database, name search, location search, missing person, fugitive file, search engine and nothing.” He stopped. He took another sip, letting the coffee burn a path to his stomach. “Plenty of Logans, just no leads.” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to quell the frustration that had him wanting to grab something and break it. “I’m at a dead end here and I can’t keep going to her with nothing—I just can’t.”
Marcy walked over to him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I think we’ve all seen how difficult this is on Rain, but it hasn’t exactly been a picnic for you either, has it?”
“I don’t care about that,” he said in a quiet voice, setting his cup on the table beside the chair. “I just worry about her. She’s trying, but it’s tearing her apart inside.”
Marcy was thoughtful for a moment. “You know, I still have a few friends at the attorney general’s office in D.C. I’d be happy to give them a call if you think that would help.”
“Yeah, sure,” Joe said quickly. “That would be great.”
“I’ll call first thing in the morning,” Marcy assured him. She walked back to where Cruz sat, lowering herself down on to the arm of his chair. “You know, I’d half expected to hear from Rain today. What’s she up to?”
“She wanted to take Sycamore for a little ride,” he said, remembering how he had watched her heading toward the stables as he drove down the drive. “They’ve sort of formed a bond.”
She nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. “Did she mention anything to you about wanting to find someplace in town?”
Joe stopped as he reached for his cup again. As much as he wanted to keep his relationship with Rain private, it was inevitable that it would come out. Besides, it was foolish to think Cruz and Marcy wouldn’t put two and two together if they hadn’t already.
“I think she’s changed her mind about that.”
“Oh, really,” Marcy said, giving Cruz an elbow in the arm. “And why do you suppose that is, Sheriff?”
“I’m not sure, sweetheart,” Cruz interjected, giving his wife a knowing look. “But I think Joe and Rain might have discussed that very thing during their stay up in the boonies.”
Marcy’s eyes widened as she looked from Joe to her husband, then back to Joe again. “You and Rain went up to the boonies together—alone?”
“Okay, you two,” Joe warned, rising to his feet.
“Something tells me he doesn’t want to talk about this,” Cruz pointed out.
“Joe Mountain,” Marcy said in a stern voice. “Is there something you want to tell us?”
He smiled as he set his empty cup on the tray. “Believe me, Marcy, there is nothing I want to tell you.”
“Maybe not,” she conceded, rising to her feet. “But I think you’ve already said all you need to.”
“Just watch that imagination of yours,” he warned, turning around to give her a hug.
“I don’t have to,” she said, pulling back and looking up at him. “Everything I need to know is right there in your eyes.”
The smile on his face faded. “Is it that obvious?”
“Just to those who know you,” Cruz said, walking up behind Marcy. “Those who care about you.”
“It’s—it’s hard to talk about.”
“Then don’t,” Marcy suggested. “Just don’t look so worried. It’s not a tragedy, you know.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Don’t talk crazy,” she said. “I think it’s wonderful. You both deserve some happiness.”
Emotion had his chest feeling tight and for a moment, Joe wasn’t sure he could speak.
“But if I…if I don’t find her past, we have no chance at a future.”
“What are you doing out here?”
Rain stopped as she spread fresh hay around Biscuit’s stall and turned around. “Hey, you. What are you doing home so early?”
“Looking for you.”
She smiled, resting the pitchfork against the wall. “Well I like that.”
Joe gestured with his chin. “So what are you doing cleaning stalls? Where’s Charlie?”
“He’s around somewhere. I’m just helping out.” She turned and glanced behind her. “I’m just about through.”
“Let me help,” Joe said, coming into the stall and reaching for the pitchfork.
“I didn’t think you’d be back until late,” she said, slipping a hand on his shoulder while he worked and stretching up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t tell me you missed me.”
“Of course,” he mumbled, a small smile breaking the harsh line of his lips. “Always.”
It wasn’t the sound of his voice or the expression on his face. It wasn’t his stiff, awkward manner or his tight, clipped speech that had her blood turning cold and her stomach tying into a knot—it was all of those things.
“Joe, what is it? What’s the matter?”
“Nothing’s the matter,” he insisted, tossing several more forkfuls of hay around the stall and leading Biscuit back inside. Slipping the pitchfork back on the hook on the wall, he turned to Rain. “But there is something we need to talk about.”
“What is it? What’s happened?” She heard the panic and the fear in her voice and did nothing to try to disguise it—she couldn’t. She felt panicky and afraid.
“Come on,” he said, taking her by the arm. “Come inside with me.”
“No, tell me now,” she demanded, stubbornly holding her ground and refusing to move. “Tell me what’s wrong. What’s happened?”
“Rain, we’d be more comfortable in the house—”
“Joe, tell me!”
He reached out, holding her by the upper arms, and drew in a deep breath. “I got a call today, a call that may be important.” He dropped his hold on her, letting his arms slide to his sides and he took several steps back. “You know how I told you Marcy worked as a federal prosecutor in Washington before she married Cruz? Well, she still has friends in the U.S. Attorney General’s office and last week I’d asked her to give them a call. I’d already checked all FBI criminal data banks but it was another resource to try, a place we hadn’t tried before to get some information on your background or maybe some clue on figuring out what Logan is and…”
His hands balled into fists and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
“And what? My God, Joe, what?”
“Like I said, I got a call today.” He drew in a shaky breath. “The U.S. Attorney General’s office had been investigating a kidnapping involving a wealthy businessman in Philadelphia.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“I didn’t think it did until I read the name. Logan Carvy.”
“L-Logan!” she gasped, feeling herself grow cold all over. Her ears rang as the name echoed through her brain. Was this the Logan that had haunted her dreams and inhabited her nightmares and terrified her so? The name trembled from her lips. “He was kidnapped?”
Joe looked at her with eyes that would haunt her more than Logan ever had. He looked so hopeless, so overwhelmed, so sad. Was she a criminal after all? Had she been on the run, fleeing the authorities? Could reality be this cruel?
“No,” he said, his voice cracking. “It was his…his wife.”
Chapter 12
It was as if the ground beneath her had been violently shaken. She staggered back, crashing into the wall. He rushed to her, gathering her up into his arms.
She wasn’t sure if she’d fainted, or if reality had once ag
ain become so impossible that she’d found a way to escape it, but whatever it was the next thing she knew she was sitting on the sofa in the living room and Joe was forcing her to sip from a glass of water.
“You just sit tight and rest for a moment,” he said, putting the glass of water into her hand. “I’m just going to make a quick phone call—”
“Who are you calling?”
He reached up, pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen across her forehead. “I’m just going to give Cruz a call.”
“No,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t call him. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” he said, pressing his palm along her forehead. “You’re pale and I think you might be a little feverish.”
“I’m not feverish. I’m fine,” she argued, pushing his hand away. Struggling, she sat up, handing him back the glass. “Tell me what you’ve found out. I want to hear it all.”
“Just let me call Cruz—”
“Joe!” she snapped, grabbed him by the wrist. He was stalling and she knew it, but she had waited long enough. “I want to know. I want to know all of it—now! What have you found out? Who am I?”
“All right, but keep in mind that none of this is certain, but—” he shrugged and began pacing slowly back and forth in front of her “—about eight weeks ago, the wife of a Philadelphia businessman named…Logan Carvy—”
“Oh, my God!” she gasped, her body going numb. She struggled to stand up. “Logan.”
“Hold on, just wait a minute, wait a minute,” he insisted, easing her back down on to the sofa. “Calm down. I’m not going to do this unless you promise me you’ll stay calm.”
Swallowing hard, she nodded her head. She wanted to say yes, wanted to tell him she’d make that promise, but she wasn’t able to speak.
He hesitated for a moment, regarding her carefully before continuing. “Anyway, his wife had been abducted. The kidnappers kept him dangling for several weeks, making demands and threatening his wife’s life if he went to the police. Eventually, a final ransom was demanded—a big one. Carvy got the money together and made the drop, but according to him, the kidnappers never made contact again after that.
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