The Sheriff & the Amnesiac

by Ryanne Corey

  “Oh-oh.” With no warning, the entire room suddenly took off in a swirling waltz. Jenny groaned, her sickly color matching the shade of her white pillow case. “I just found something to concentrate on. I’m going to be sick.”

  Tyler grabbed for the empty wastebasket in the corner and handed it to her. “Here, use this.” He sprinted into the bathroom, wet a washcloth with cold water and brought it back to Jenny. “Use this, too. On your forehead.”

  Jenny did as she was told, concentrating fiercely on maintaining control of her stomach. “I’m all right. I’m fine. But you better do something about your robe pretty quick. It’s going south fast.”

  Tyler looked down and discovered he was about two inches away from becoming a centerfold. He muttered a word beneath his breath that had four letters, fastening his belt with a double knot. He didn’t have time to deal with things like indecent exposure. He was flat-out panicked, close to being sick himself. She hadn’t been kidding. She couldn’t tell him who her family was. Still, she’d just barely opened her eyes, and she was seriously medicated with pain pills. She might just need a little encouragement. “Jenny? You know your name, so you must remember your family, and your…your life. Just calm down. Breathe, and be very, very calm.”

  “I remember something,” she muttered, cradling the wastebasket in her arms like a life preserver. “I do.”

  “Excellent.”

  “I remember that I don’t like to be told to calm down.” She opened her eyes, a flicker of her old spirit clearly evident. “I’m certain of it.”

  I need to pop a couple of her pain pills, Tyler thought. I’m coming unglued here. “Maybe we’re going about this in the wrong way. You do remember being at Ernie’s. Do you remember anything from before you were at Ernie’s?”

  “No.”

  An edge of desperation sharpened his voice. “Sure you do. Just try.”

  “I am trying. No, I don’t remember anything before going to the restaurant. You’re talking too loud. I have a terrible headache. It punishes me every time I try to think. Is this your house?”

  Tyler was taken off guard by the change of subject. “What? Yes, it’s my house. But we’re not talking about houses here, we’re trying to ascertain—”

  “Why do you decorate it with clowns? It’s bizarre. You’re a grown man.”

  He bristled. “And I have a very grown-up bedroom down the hall done in beige and black. This room is reserved for my nephews when they come over. You remember them?”

  “I think so,” she said, her voice suddenly weary. “Yes…the twins, and your sister, Rosie. I remember your family. I just don’t remember mine.”

  Tyler dug up every ounce of his willpower to disguise the fear that was flooding him. He didn’t want to scare her. He pasted a fake smile on his face and started backing up toward the door. “We’re pushing things. The doctor in the emergency room said you might be confused for a couple of days. It’s normal for a concussion.”

  “This confused?”

  “Well…yes, of course. You’re doing well, every bit as confused as the doctor expected. You’re right on track. I have to go now, but I’ll check on you in a little bit. I need to get ahold of your doctor and tell him something.”

  Jenny couldn’t decide whether to cry or throw something or simply go back to sleep. “What? Tell him what?”

  “Later,” Tyler said, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind him. Then he slumped against the wall, his head making a hollow thwack. Beneath his breath he muttered, “I need to tell him that he’s under arrest for impersonating a qualified doctor.”

  Four

  Grady and Tyler were hiding in the bathroom across the hall from Jenny’s room. Tyler insisted on taking precautions; he didn’t want her to hear them discussing her amnesia.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me, man,” Grady said in an indignant whisper. “You’re trying to tell me it’s my fault she has a fuzzy memory after getting hit by a car? I fail to see how that can be remotely attributed to my medical skills.”

  “You examined her a few minutes ago,” Tyler whispered back fiercely. “Did she seem all right to you? Could she answer any questions about her past? Are you sure you have a medical degree?”

  Grady whipped off his glasses, glaring at his best friend. “I’ve had enough of this. I was in an important consultation when you called me. I did you a favor by coming over here and looking at her. And I’m telling you the woman has a concussion. Give her forty-eight hours and then panic if she’s still a little vague about her past.”

  “A little vague? She’s blank!”

  Grady sighed heavily, sitting down on the closed toilet lid. “Look, I admit this isn’t completely normal with head injuries like this. She remembers you, a perfect stranger, she remembers Ella, but she doesn’t remember her own past. There is such a thing as selective retrograde amnesia, but honestly, you may be getting worked up over nothing. Give her a couple of days to recover from her accident, all right? After forty-eight hours, she’ll probably be right as rain.”

  “Right as rain?” Tyler muttered. “What the heck is that supposed to mean? Did you learn that in med school?”

  Grady stood up, placing both hands over his ears in a most unprofessional fashion. “I’m not listening to you anymore. Lose the shining armor for a while, Tyler. I know you’re one of the good guys, I know you feel compelled to look after the whole world, but curb yourself for a couple of days. Any serious problems, get her over to the emergency room. Goodbye.”

  Grady shut the bathroom door behind him, leaving the toilet seat free. Tyler sat down, arms resting on his thighs and hands dangling between his knees. He was so damn frustrated, he could hardly think. First of all, he was not a good guy by choice, and he was sick and tired of being tagged with the title. He was a sheriff because the job paid more than anything else in the farming community of Bridal Veil Falls. Which probably made him an opportunist, but try telling anyone else that. He looked after people because it was his responsibility, not his chosen calling. He lived in the back of beyond because he had no choice. And he had Jenny Kyle in his spare bedroom because that was exactly where he wanted her. Did that sound like a knight in shining armor? Hell, no.

  “I am not a good guy,” he said to the floor.

  And for once, no one argued with him.

  Tyler left Rosie sitting with Jenny, then went to work and had a day. Not a good day or a bad day, just an ordinary, nothing-ever-changes-in-this-town day. There had been nothing more challenging to investigate than a telephone tip that thirteen-year-old Willard Wallin was after George Sanders’s homing pigeons with his BB gun again. So, after Tyler had impounded Willard’s gun for twenty-four hours, he had plenty of time to think about Jenny.

  Tyler wondered if she had remembered anything yet. He called Rosie, who told him Jenny was still sleeping. He had a tuna melt at the café for lunch, then went back to his office and called Rosie again. Once more she told him Jenny was still sleeping, and she wasn’t about to wake the poor woman up and ask her if she had remembered anything. Tyler did some paperwork for an hour and called Rosie one more time. His sister had a temper, and she used it to the best of her ability. Yes, Jenny was still asleep. Yes, she had checked to see if she was all right. And for his information, Tyler’s phone call had woken the twins from their naps, which was a personal tragedy for her. The only time she ever had to herself was nap time, and he had robbed her of it. She hoped he was happy. Click.

  Tyler distracted himself that afternoon by playing hangman with the mayor’s son, who was in jail for stealing tires off the high school principal’s car over the weekend. The mayor thought a couple of days in the slammer might teach the kid a lesson. Tyler didn’t mind; he was actually grateful for the company. At precisely five seconds before 5:00 p.m. he left the office to his deputy and climbed back in his squad car for the six-minute drive home. He made a stop at the Cotton Tree for Jenny’s duffel bag, taking a moment to search the contents for some clue as
to her background. It was the damnedest thing. She carried only a few clothes, a wand of mascara, a hairbrush, a blow dryer and one single business card: Eliot Dearbourne, Attorney at Law. No less than three telephone numbers were listed at the bottom, all with a California area code. To say that he was surprised was an understatement. Never in his life had Tyler seen a woman who traveled so light. It was truly as if she had been born at Enchilada Ernie’s. And speaking of Ernie’s, when he drove past the restaurant, he saw Jenny’s Harley and realized he’d forgotten all about it.

  He couldn’t say why he pulled into the parking lot. And he sure as hell didn’t know why he got out of his car and walked around the Harley in a slow, lazy circle. He had to admit, it was an incredible machine. He’d had a dirt bike in high school, but nothing like this. This was a bike worthy of James Dean. Hell on wheels.

  He really didn’t remember making a conscious decision to trade his freshly waxed squad car for the mean machine covered with road dust. One minute he was staring at the Harley, the next he was tossing his cowboy hat in the back seat of his car, digging out Jenny’s keys from the glove box and tugging off his beige shirt to reveal a plain white T-shirt beneath. For a minute he was caught by the image of his own reflection in the car window. Wild hair, muscle-skimming cotton tee, black sunglasses and a motorcycle standing by. He didn’t look like himself, but he felt like himself. This was the Tyler Cook he used to know a long time ago. His restless wild heart was still beating beneath the breast of the responsible adult. Feeling a little self-conscious, he looked over his shoulder. No one was watching the sheriff of Bridal Veil Falls.

  A slow, “just watch me now” smile spread across his face. His eyes crinkled, his dimple made an appearance, and his white teeth gleamed wickedly against his bronze skin. He loaded Jenny’s duffel into the storage compartment, alongside a little surprise he had picked up at the Happy Valley Drugstore at lunchtime. Presents were good. Women liked presents.

  He gave the Harley one more look of 100 percent masculine appreciation, top to bottom, front to back. His smile felt as if it was tattooed on his face. Boy, oh, boy.

  He felt like a cowboy again. He was just taking on a different kind of horse.

  Jenny had slept most of the day. She vaguely remembered Rosie coming in and helping her exchange the hospital gown for one of Rosie’s own frilly pink nightgowns. Then it was back to dreamland, until an unearthly roaring sound interrupted the peaceful silence of the sunlit bedroom. Vrooom.

  She sat up slowly, knuckling her sleepy eyes. Vrooom, vrooom.

  She cautiously swung her legs over the bed, waiting to see if her equilibrium was still AWOL. The throbbing in her bandaged ankle reminded her she was temporarily one-legged, but at least the Tilt-A-Whirl bedroom had stilled. She realized that she was absolutely drenched in pink bows and ruffles, a style of dress she instinctively knew she had never favored. Still, she was grateful for Rosie’s generosity. That barely there hospital gown had provided very little coverage of areas most important to cover. Not to mention an uncomfortable draft.

  Vrooom, vrooom, vrooom. Even louder this time.

  Her curiosity got the best of her. She stood up and took giant hops to the window, grimacing with every jarring landing. Ankle, hands, head, ribs, everything made of bone or sinew protested fiercely—but she was too far along to turn back now. The window was open a few inches to let in a soft breeze, as well as the noises from outside. Oscillating lawn sprinklers. Kids laughing and playing dodgeball in the street. A dog barking. A summer evening scented with lilacs and fresh-cut grass swirled through the billowing curtains, casting a warm, murmuring spell. Va-va-va-vrooom.

  Startled, Jenny did a one-legged jump. Her gaze dropped to the driveway directly beneath her window. At first she saw only a strange man sitting astride a motorcycle. He was something else to look at, actually, a stunner with thick, wind-whipped hair, wraparound sunglasses and a white T-shirt that set off an enviable tan. His legs straddled the bike with easy grace, both feet on the ground balancing the powerful machine. He seemed utterly absorbed with revving the Harley’s engine, then cocking his head and listening intently to the rhythmic purr.

  “Will you quit with the macho motorcycle demonstration?” A door slammed, then Rosie sprinted down the front walk. “Jenny’s still asleep, Ty. Or at least she was.”

  Tyler? Jenny thought. That tawny-haired rebel on a bike was Sheriff Gladiator?

  “No way,” she whispered, eyes round as saucers.

  The motorcycle’s thunderous engine died a quick death. “Sorry.” Tyler grinned at his sister, not at all sorry. “Boys will be boys. This engine is amazing. It took me only three minutes to get here from Enchilada Ernie’s. Three minutes, Rosie. Damn, that felt good.”

  “You broke the speed limit?” Rosie asked incredulously. “You?”

  “I shattered the speed limit,” Tyler told his sister smugly. “There wasn’t a soul on the road, so it wasn’t like I was a threat to anyone. Besides, who’s going to arrest me? Me? Anyway, this is Jenny’s bike and I couldn’t leave it sitting in town forever.” He swung his leg off the Harley and stood up, towering over Rosie’s five-foot frame. “I need to wake her up and tell her that her Harley is safe. I’m sure she’ll be greatly relieved. Don’t you think that’s a good reason to wake her up?”

  “She doesn’t even remember she has a Harley,” Rosie pointed out.

  “Details, details,” Tyler said. Whistling, he opened the storage bin on the back of the Harley and pulled out a duffel bag and a small sack.

  “You’re incorrigible, and I’m going to strangle you one day,” Rosie told him sweetly. “Not today, because I have the boys with me and don’t want to traumatize them. But someday.”

  “Whatever makes you happy, sis,” Tyler said with an angelic smile. “I’m feeling very cooperative tonight. It’s amazing what hitting 130 miles per hour on a Harley can do to one’s perspective.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “I did. I went very fast on a very loud machine. What a rush. Breaking the law can be really exhilarating, if no one’s around to get hurt. I haven’t had that much fun since I stopped getting tossed off horses for a living.”

  “Have you been drinking?” Rosie demanded, slapping her hands on her nonexistent hips.

  “Hell, no. Who would need to drink when you have a Harley between your legs? It’s kind of the same principle of riding a bronco or a Brahma bull—highly diverting. Not to mention the fact I have a drop-dead gorgeous redhead in my clown bedroom. Life hasn’t been this interesting in a long time.”

  Jenny leaned back against the wall, feeling guilty for eavesdropping, but not quite guilty enough to walk away from the open window. He thought she was drop-dead gorgeous?

  Then, with a belated mental shock—he rode Brahma bulls?

  “Tyler…” Rosie’s voice sounded a bit troubled, unusual for someone who normally took life with a grain of salt. “I probably should mind my own business, but Jenny’s life is an empty canvas right now. Getting personal might be a little…premature.”

  “And not at all prudent,” he replied in a breezy tone. “The problem is, I’m just not feeling prudent lately. Go figure. One day I walk into Enchilada Ernie’s and everything just…”

  Their conversation faded away as Tyler and Rosie disappeared inside the house. For a long moment Jenny remained immobile. Since her life started only a couple of days earlier at a Mexican restaurant, she couldn’t really say if she had much experience with affairs of the heart. She tried to understand and label the unfamiliar emotions rippling through her, but she had nothing to compare them to. She was surprised. She had inspired a man like Tyler to not be prudent? The thought gave her an odd little thrill of satisfaction. Strangely, she didn’t feel too concerned about the fact that she was only two days old. That would solve itself. For whatever reason, her mind didn’t want to settle and brood on her current predicament. She only had today, but today was enough to deal with right now. Very possibly she was the most
contented amnesiac on record. Still, she simply couldn’t pretend a fear or frustration she didn’t feel.

  She heard a soft knock on the door and realized Tyler had made it up the stairs in record time. She bolted for the bed, but realized too late that bolting had been a very bad idea. To save herself from falling flat on her face, she had to put weight on her injured ankle. She squealed with pain just as she reached the edge of the bed.

  “What?” Tyler barged into the room, blue eyes blazing with anxiety. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

  Jenny collapsed on the edge of the bed, her eyes screwed shut, her face contorted in pain and her fists drumming the mattress. After a moment her pain subsided to a dull, bearable throb, and she opened her eyes to see that Tyler carried a duffel bag in one hand and what looked like a stuffed animal in the other. “Hello. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to put any weight on my ankle.”

  Tyler raked his hand through his hair, blowing out an exasperated breath. “You know what Grady said this morning. Baby it for a couple of days. No testing.”

  “I realize I’m coming up a little short right now on my background, but somehow I don’t think I’ve been used to staying in one place very long. Sitting still doesn’t seem to be my strong suit.”

  “You’ve got that right,” Tyler said with feeling. He was doing his best not to let his gaze dwell too long on the colorful garden of bruises on her face. She looked so small and fragile, as if she would shatter if anyone touched her with the slightest force. She also looked, he realized belatedly, very, very pink. “That’s quite the nightgown you have on there. Extremely feminine.”

  “I look like a pink wedding cake with too much frosting. Still, I’m grateful to your sister for lending it to me. She’s been incredibly sweet. Although,” she added confidingly, “I don’t think I wear ruffles and lace as a rule. They don’t feel normal to me. It will be very interesting to go home to my wardrobe and find out. Wherever home may be.”