The Stranger and Tessa Jones

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The Stranger and Tessa Jones Page 14

by Christine Rimmer


  The stepmother stood. “It’s about time. We would have called the sheriff—except he was with you.”

  Ash’s gaze went straight to Tessa. She met his eyes with a questioning look. He gave her a nod to let her know he was all right.

  “Don’t get on me, Gina,” Patrick said in a tone gentler than any he’d used all night. “We got a game going. A game takes time.”

  “Oh, don’t I know that after all these years?” She smiled at Ash. “Well, you’ve survived a night with the Jones boys. And I see you’re still standing.”

  “I’m just fine. Thank you.”

  “He oughtta feel fine,” grumbled Patrick. “He cleaned us out.”

  Tessa’s eyes flashed with satisfaction. “Good for you, Ash.”

  Patrick reached for his wife’s hand. “Come on, Gina. Time to head on home.”

  Tessa stood and she and Ash saw them out. Ash put an arm across her shoulder as they stood there under the porch light, waving her mom and dad off. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his. He thought he could stand there forever, with Tessa close to his side, her fingers holding his, out in the cold winter night.

  When they went back in, Ash put his winnings on the table. “It’s not enough, I know, for all you’ve done. But at least it’ll help pay my way…”

  She came to him, slid her arms around his waist and then up along the back of his shoulders. “Keep it. A man needs a little pocket change.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose, thinking, So this is happiness. What do you know? The bulldog sat a few feet away, watching them, a low, happy whine in her throat, and he felt the white cat brush against his pants leg.

  “I’ll keep a few bucks so I can buy the burgers next time we’re down in Grass Valley.” He said the words and wondered at himself. It would be a week until they drove down to the hospital again. Anything could happen in a week. Still, it was so easy to see himself here, in the small Sierra town, indefinitely. Or anywhere, as long as Tessa was there, too.

  She said, “Guess what? The phone is working.”

  “Great. And I have more good news…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I saw my father’s face tonight. And I remembered his name. Davis.”

  “That’s your last name, then? Davis?” Her voice quivered with excitement.

  But he had to shake his head. “No. Sorry. I’m still in the dark on that one. Davis is my father’s first name.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know how I know that. But I do.”

  As always, she focused on the positive. “See?” Her eyes were green as lucky clovers, touched with the gold from the end of the rainbow. “It’s coming back.”

  “You’re right, though. I could really use a last name.”

  “It’ll come to you. It’ll all come to you.”

  “You seem so certain.”

  “I am.” She touched the side of his face the way she liked to do.

  He turned his head and kissed her palm. “Let’s go to bed.” Arms wrapped around each other, the cat and the dog taking up the rear, they turned for the bedroom.

  When Ash woke in the morning, he knew the names of his brothers and sisters. He reeled them off to Tessa.

  “I’m the oldest,” he said. “And then Gabe and then Luke, Matthew, Caleb, Jericho, Joshua—and our sisters, Abilene and Zoe.” He knew what each of them looked like and he knew their personalities. And what they did, whether in the family business, or out on their own—that Gabe was a lawyer and they called him “the fixer.” That Luke ran the family ranch. “I still can’t remember the name of the ranch. I have a feeling I’ve dreamed of it. And I’m still not remembering my last name, either. I know that if I could just get the name, everything else would bust wide open.”

  “It’ll come,” she said, as she always did. “It is coming. You remember more every day. Call Jack. Tell him what you’ve found out.”

  Ash made the call. Jack thanked him for the update and told him to call again anytime he remembered more. “And I’ll get back to you,” the sheriff promised again, “the minute I have news.”

  They took the dog and the cat with them when they went to open the store. “They get lonely at home,” she said. “And they’re very well behaved.” The dog had a bed behind the counter and the cat liked to sit in the front window display and watch the world go by.

  The editor of the North Magdalene News, a bearded guy in a western hat, came in at a little before 11:00 a.m. He’d heard about Ash from Jack. He took pictures and Ash gave him an interview. Barring a big fire or a robbery, he said, Ash would be the lead story on the News’s front page next Tuesday.

  At 2:00 p.m., Oggie showed up with a reporter from the Grass Valley Union. There were more pictures. Ash gave a second interview.

  “This should run in the morning edition,” the reporter said. “In any case, we’ll get it in by Friday.”

  Ash shook his hand and thanked him.

  “Never play cards with this guy,” Oggie told the reporter. “He may not know who the hell he is, but he can clean your clock at a poker table.”

  “Just lucky,” said Ash, his gaze drawn as always to Tessa, who stood behind the counter ringing up a sale. She sensed his glance and beamed him a bright smile.

  Oggie adjusted his suspenders. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you know just about everybody. I’ve got contacts at a few of the Sacramento TV stations. I’m working on getting one of them to put you on the news.”

  “Great,” said Ash. No, he wasn’t all that thrilled with having his face all over the news, to be known as the guy who’d managed to lose his own memory. But the more people saw his face, the more likely that someone out there would recognize him.

  Oggie made good on his promise. The next day, Thursday, he drove Ash down to Sacramento to be on the five o’clock news. Tessa stayed behind to work at the store.

  The old man talked all the way down there and all the way back up. Ash didn’t really mind the constant chatter. He would just throw in an interested sound every now and then and Oggie would keep right on flapping his yap. The interview was over in less than sixty seconds. Which was fine with Ash. The shorter the better, he thought.

  The producer shook his hand and told him his face had just appeared on TV screens throughout the northern half of California. Affiliate stations would probably pick it up and broadcast the interview in Nevada and Oregon, as a public service.

  “That’s gettin’ the damn word out,” Oggie declared.

  They got back to North Magdalene at 7:30 p.m. that night. Oggie drove Ash to Tessa’s and then came in to say hi to his granddaughter. He ended up staying for dinner—and talked nonstop all through the meal. Strangely, in spite of the endless babble and the smelly cigars, Ash found himself growing kind of fond of the old guy.

  When Oggie finally left, Ash and Tessa cleaned up the kitchen. He watched her bending over to put a plate in the dishwasher and he realized he couldn’t wait another second to have her in his arms.

  He stepped up behind her and pulled her back against him when she straightened. He nuzzled her neck, breathing in her tempting scent.

  “Ash, really, we need to finish…”

  He turned her around and claimed her sweet mouth.

  She sighed and opened for him. Without letting go of her mouth, he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom.

  Moments later, he settled between her smooth thighs and she wrapped her arms around him. He entered her by slow degrees, claiming her body as she surrounded him.

  No woman had ever felt so good, so exactly right. Again, he thanked whatever forces had brought him to her door.

  Ash woke at a little after 8:00 a.m. the next morning. They’d left the curtains open through the night and outside the day was pewter gray. It was snowing, sparsely, dry flakes drifting down, some of them sticking to the windowpane.

  Tessa slept on her side, facing him, her breathing soft and shallow. The bulldog snored at his
feet and the cat lay curled in the cove behind Tessa’s bent knees.

  He would have liked to lie there forever, perfectly peaceful, with the right woman at his side. But a lot was going to change now, so he enjoyed the moment while he could.

  Sometime in the night it had happened.

  Like a heavy veil lifting, it had all come back to him. He didn’t know exactly how or why. Maybe the lessening pressure as his body reabsorbed the blood trapped between his skull and his brain. Maybe it was simply the passage of time, that it had taken time for the shock of what had happened to him to lose its hold on him, for his real self, his life, his memories, to surface.

  He knew his full name now. He knew who he was and where he came from.

  Lianna…

  He thought the name and frowned. But no. That was over. He’d broken it off. He pushed the thought of the other woman from his mind and concentrated on something a lot more pleasant: Tessa.

  As if she sensed his eyes on her, she woke. She smiled, and then the smile became a puzzled frown. “Ash? What…?”

  “I know,” he said. “Not all of it. But almost all.”

  Her mouth formed a soft O. “What…what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying my name is Bravo, Asher James Bravo. My father’s name is Davis Bravo. He was the first son of seven, same as I am. His father was James Bravo, born on a ranch called the Rising Sun near a little Wyoming town named Medicine Creek. My grandfather, James, moved to Texas, won a ranch near San Antonio on a bet. My father still owns that ranch. I was raised there, raised at Bravo Ridge.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Oh, Ash, it’s amazing!” Tessa sat straight up in bed, disturbing the cat, which gave her a squinty-eyed glare and jumped to the floor. Tessa laughed and clapped her hands like a gleeful kid. “Oh, I knew it. I knew it would happen…” She flopped back down and squirmed in close to him.

  He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Ever heard of Blake Bravo?”

  “Of course. Don’t tell me you’re related to him?”

  “I am.” His infamous relative was an American legend, right up there with Bonnie and Clyde and the Dillinger gang. Blake was best known for kidnapping his own brother’s kid and claiming a fortune in diamonds as ransom—and then never returning the child. But that wasn’t all he’d done in his long and nefarious life. “He was a polygamist, did you know? Ended up marrying a bunch of women, and having kids with all of them, letting each woman think she was the only one.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “And he’s a relative of yours?”

  “Blake Bravo’s grandfather was my great-grandfather. Scary, huh?”

  “Luckily, you’re nothing like him.” She wiggled in even closer, tucking herself tight against him. And then she craned her head back so she could see his face. “Tell me.”

  He laughed. “Tell you what? My whole life?”

  “Yeah. All of it. Every detail.”

  “Got thirty-three years?”

  “You’re thirty-three?” At his nod, she pressed her lips to the base of his throat. “All right, all right. Just the important details, then. You can start with what happened to you, how you got hurt…”

  “That, I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve still got a gap of a couple of days, including what the hell hit me in the head and battered me up so bad.”

  She kissed his throat again. “Well, when I read up on head injuries, it said people sometimes never recall the days or hours immediately before and after they got hurt.”

  “Damn.”

  She tipped her head back once more to meet his eyes. “Still, it could come back at some point.” Her eyes widened. “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “Do you remember your phone number? Your address? The phone number at your family’s ranch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, then you need to start making calls. We need to—”

  “Shh.” He kissed her forehead. “Hold on.”

  “What do you mean, hold on? We can’t hold on another minute. Ash, you have to know that they’re probably frantic. They’re probably desperate for news of you. They need to hear you’re alive, to find out you’re safe and well.”

  Her words stunned him. By God, she was right. To them, he would be missing. Missing without a trace for nearly a week. How could he not have realized that until Tessa said it? It was all too much, too fast.

  “Absolutely.” He took Tessa by the shoulders and put her gently away from him. “I have to call Gabe.”

  “Gabe…” She shoved her hair out of her eyes. “The second brother? The ‘fixer,’ you said…”

  “That’s Gabe.” He snatched the phone from the nightstand and dialed Gabe’s cell from memory.

  He answered on the second ring. “This is Gabe.”

  The sound of his brother’s voice stunned Ash all over again. Sweat broke out on his brow. He felt like a dead man called miraculously back to the living world.

  Gabe said, “Hello? Anyone there?”

  Ash found his voice. “Hey.” It was rusty and rough with all the emotions swirling within him. “It’s…me.”

  “Ash?” Astonished. Hardly believing.

  “Yeah. Me, Ash.”

  “My God. Ash…” His brother’s voice trailed off into silence.

  “Gabe. Gabe, you still there?”

  “Yeah. Right here. Just…shocked as hell to hear your voice. At last. It’s about damn time. We’ve been worried. Worried bad.”

  “I’m sorry, I…” How to explain it? What to say? He looked into Tessa’s soft eyes and decided to start with the truth. “Something happened to me. I don’t know what. I’ve had a head injury, though I still don’t know how I got it. I’ve just today started really remembering, where I come from, how to get hold of you, and Dad and Mom…”

  “Whoa. A head injury, you said?”

  “Yeah. I know it sounds crazy. But for days, I’ve only had a vague idea…of home, of who I am.”

  “You’re saying you’ve been suffering from some form of amnesia, is that it?”

  “Yeah. That’s it. Hard to believe, but true.”

  “But you’re okay now?”

  “Yeah. I’m on my feet. Improving. Better every day.”

  “Good. You won’t believe what’s going on around here.”

  “Hit me with it.”

  “Bad times. Real bad times. Dad got freaked enough by Sunday to drive up to the cabin to find you, even though you’d left specific instructions that you were turning off your cell and no one was to try and contact you. You said when you took off that you’d be back by Monday. You remember that, right?”

  The cabin. In the Hill Country. A family retreat. Had he gone there—or said he was going there? “Uh. No. No, I’m not at the cabin.”

  “We realize that. When Dad got there, he found no sign you’d ever been there. And, well, Monday has come and gone. Plus, they found one of your cars at Stinson Airport—so where the hell are you? I don’t recognize the area code.”

  His mind felt slow. Thick. “Area code?”

  “Yeah. Wherever you’re calling from.” He rattled off Tessa’s number—from his phone display, apparently. “Is that where you are? We can reach you there?”

  “Yeah. That’s it.”

  “I’m still not getting this, man. You sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah. It’s a long, confused story. I’ll get into detail later. But the main thing is I’m all right. And I’m damn sorry I scared everyone. Seriously. So sorry.”

  “What can I say? If you didn’t know, you didn’t know. It’s been bad around here, though, with you missing. And with no one having any idea where you went or how to find you…”

  “Which is just what I called to tell you. I’m in a little town in northern California. North Magdalene, it’s called and—”

  Gabe swore. “You’re serious?”

  “Yeah. What? Why wouldn’t I be?”
<
br />   His brother muttered, “I should have known. Northern California…”

  “Should have known? How?”

  A silence. Ash knew then that there was something his brother hadn’t told him yet. Something important.

  Finally, Gabe started to speak. But he didn’t get far. “Ash, I…” The words wandered off into silence again.

  Gabe was the one they always sent out to deliver bad news. He had a talent for handling the roughest kinds of situations. So this must be pretty damn bad if the family fixer was having trouble figuring out how to say it.

  Tessa waited quietly beside him. He took her hand, twined their fingers together, drew strength from the warmth of her, from the steady, hopeful way she gazed at him.

  He prompted, “Gabe?”

  From the other end of the line, his brother spoke at last. “Right here.”

  “Whatever it is, I think you’d better just tell me.”

  Gabe swore. “Yeah. I am. You said you had a head injury?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’ve had lapses in your memory?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So. Do you know…about Lianna?”

  Lianna…

  Should he have known it would be about Lianna?

  Along with the rest of his life, good and bad, except for that one blank spot, Ash remembered Lianna. She was the woman in the ballroom, the one he’d dreaded facing. He could see her now, in his mind’s eye: her thick coffee-brown hair, her slim, perfect body. Her big brown eyes.

  Lianna Mercer, of the San Antonio Mercers. Ash had pursued her relentlessly, seeing her as exactly the wife he needed. They moved in the same circles. Her father and his father belonged to the same clubs, and had brokered any number of land development deals together.

  Lianna was the perfect wife for him. Too bad the more he was with her, the more she made him want to punch his hand through a wall. Lianna had to be the star of every encounter, the center of attention, the queen of the world.

  He had never loved her and that was fine with him. But as the months went by, he started to see that he didn’t even like her. The closer it got to their wedding day, the more certain he’d become that he would have to break it off with her.

 

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