Remembering Red Thunder

by Sylvie Kurtz

  “Amnesia? You’ve got to be kidding.” Garth leaned over his desk and pierced Chance with a gaze. “This is me, Garth, your old pal. You can be straight with me.”

  “I don’t know you from a dog on the street,” Chance said.

  Garth’s eyebrows rose. “Well, now, that is interesting, considerin’ you’ve told me all of your secrets. I know it was your fault Kent got caught in a drainage ditch when he was five. I know where you stole your first bottle of cheap whiskey for your first drunk. I know who your first lay was.”

  “That’s enough. We came to talk to you about Ellen.”

  “But you want to know more.”

  The tightening of his features was a victory.

  “Will you let us talk to Ellen?” Taryn asked. Her voice was too thin and quick. He had her on edge, too. How far would she go for her man?

  “Why would you want to do that?” Garth asked. Ellen could tell them nothing. Of that, he was sure.

  “I want to know what happened fifteen years ago.”

  Could Kyle really be suffering from amnesia? The medical report he’d acquired indicated so, but Garth had thought the condition a ruse. If the memory loss was real, he wouldn’t be able to buy either brother. Here was his chance to keep everything he had. And if a convenient accident should happen down the road, well, who could possibly blame him? Kyle’s driving record was public record. “What happened is that you and your brother were stupid.”

  “Stupid in what way?”

  Garth narrowed his gaze. “I was there, you know.”

  Taryn gasped. “At the river?”

  Without looking at her, he nodded. “You and Kent—”

  “He’s Kyle?”

  Garth shrugged. “Kent couldn’t swim.” He pointed at Chance’s face. “Then there’s the crooked nose. Kyle had his broken a couple of times.”

  “The nose doesn’t mean anything. Chance was really beaten up when he was found.”

  “Let it go, Taryn,” Chance said. “What happened?”

  “You took out your frustrations about Ellen on Kent and it went too far. Couldn’t quite manage to keep that temper of yours in check.”

  “That’s not like Chance at all.” Taryn swallowed hard and shook her head. “The newspaper said they’d gone swimming.”

  “Kent never went swimmin’. His brother pushed him in the river.”

  “We were fighting about Ellen?”

  Kyle seemed to be barely breathing. He looked so tense, one good blow could shatter him. Taryn reached for her husband’s hand. He snatched it away. Trouble in paradise. Wasn’t that a shame?

  “Kyle had dumped Ellen and she’d come beggin’ for him to take her back,” Garth continued. “Kent interfered and ended up in the river for his troubles.”

  She was mad now. The little lines around her eyes looked like lightning. Was she like lightning in bed, too? A storm, he imagined, a whole damn sky full of bolts to electrify a man right where it counted.

  “How did Ellen and Kyle end up in the river?” she asked.

  She was distracting him. Kyle was the one who was a danger to him, not her. He needed to find out exactly where the memory had fallen into a black hole. “Ellen jumped in to save Kent. She was always one for the underdog. Kyle went after her to prevent her from rescuing Kent.”

  Taryn jumped up. “I can’t believe there was so much hatred between two brothers that one would let the other drown.”

  “You don’t know the half of it.”

  “Tell me,” Chance said. His voice was so dead, Garth knew he was making his point.

  “And where were you when all this was taking place?” She braced a hand around her middle.

  The thought of her beloved as a killer was surely making her sick. That’s all right, darlin’, I’ll make you forget.

  “I heard the argument as I was comin’ up to the clearing. By the time I got there, it was too late to do anything but call for help.”

  He kept his body language relaxed, his face genial. He was, after all, the good guy in this little drama.

  “Kyle always had a temper,” Garth added. “He’d gotten himself in more trouble than I can say. He lost his license barely six months after gettin’ it because he got so many speeding tickets. He probably still holds the record for after-school detentions because of all the fights he got into.”

  Garth laughed, watching Kyle. Not even a blink of recognition. Oh, yeah, this was going to be good. “Once he even put the rodeo mascot in the principal’s office overnight. Mr. Talberg wasn’t amused. Took Kyle a whole day to scrub all the calf sh—, er, droppings off the carpet.”

  “What happened to Ellen?” Taryn asked.

  Garth turned to her. The smile he sent her was one that spoke of challenge, of the thrill that came with it, of knowing he held the winning hand. Might as well face it, darlin’, you’ve been hangin’ with a loser.

  “Ellen was hurt bad. She didn’t die that night, but she’s been trapped in her mind since then. Accordin’ to the doctor, there’s nothing physically wrong with her. She couldn’t handle the trauma of bein’ nearly drowned by the man she loved, so she’s stayed shut in her own world since then.” With a little help.

  Taryn closed her eyes. For a second, he thought she’d heave all over his clean carpet. Instead, she went to stand behind her man—loyal like a she-wolf—and placed her hands on his shoulders. Kyle tensed at her touch.

  “Why did you marry an invalid?” she asked, still throwing daggers at him though she was beat. He had to give her points for guts.

  “Because you see, I love Ellen. That’s why I was goin’ to that preserve that night. I was goin’ to protect her from Kyle.” Garth speared Kyle with his gaze. “And I’m always goin’ to protect her from Kyle.”

  “He’s not Kyle. He’s Chance Conover, sheriff of Gabenburg County.”

  Such devotion. So archaic.

  “I do admire your loyalty. It’s a rare quality these days. But I’ve known the Makepeace brothers since they were babies. If anyone is ornery enough to survive Red Thunder, it’s Kyle. I won’t have him disturb Ellen’s peace after all these years.” I won’t have you ruin all I’ve worked so hard to earn.

  Taryn planted her fists on the desk and leaned to look him in the eye. “Even if he was Kyle all those years ago, he’s a different man now.”

  “Let it go, Taryn.”

  “How different can he be when he’s pretendin’ he doesn’t remember who he is?”

  “He’s not pretending.”

  “That’s enough!” Kyle said.

  Garth released her gaze and challenged Kyle. “You think you’re walkin’ in tall cotton with your faked amnesia? You may have fooled her, but for me, my friend, that blanket is mighty thin. I was kind enough to see you for old time’s sake, but I will protect what’s mine.”

  Kyle rounded the desk and grabbed Garth’s shirtfront. Leaning into his face, Kyle spoke in a low, dangerous tone. “Why would I pretend amnesia?”

  Garth sneered. “To avoid payin’ for the charge of attempted murder on your head.”

  “Attempted murder!” Taryn shook her head. “No, not Chance.”

  As if punched, Kyle stumbled back. His fists flexed by his sides.

  “You destroyed a brilliant mind that day,” Garth pressed. “Did you know she’d been accepted at Texas A & M? She was goin’ to be a vet.”

  “Let’s go, Chance.”

  Garth rose and met Chance nose to nose—the desk between them. “Did you really think Carter would forget that? Did you really think he’d let you get away with murderin’ all of his hopes? There’s a price on your head, Kyle. And because we were once friends, I’m givin’ you the chance to disappear before Carter catches up with you.”

  Taryn grabbed Chance’s arm and pulled him toward her.

  In the mirror over Kyle’s shoulder, Garth adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, centered his tie. Oh, yeah, he had him right where he wanted him. Now to put on the finishing touch.

  “You
know, I think it might be good for you to see Ellen after all. Maybe once you’ve seen what your temper created, you’ll be ready to take responsibility for your actions.”

  He pressed the intercom button on his desk. “Mary, cancel all of my afternoon appointments.”

  Chapter Nine

  A few minutes later, fingers tight against the steering wheel, Chance forced himself to concentrate on the lunchtime traffic snaking down Chestnut Street. The red brake lights on the car in front of his truck flashed on and off with the ebb and flow of the stoplights. He didn’t need the cold blast of air-conditioning to cool the sun’s heat. His thoughts were enough to chill him to the marrow.

  The images in his mind whirled at tornado speed, lifting new debris with each passing second, thickening the funnel of his broken memories. All this time, deep down, he’d hoped the nightmare was, as the doctor had said, an exaggeration brought on by past trauma. Secretly, he’d hoped there was a logical explanation for the blood, the dead eyes, the hands pushing down, drowning.

  And there was.

  The nightmare was real.

  He’d let his own twin drown. He’d kept the woman he’d loved from saving his brother. He’d almost killed her, too.

  The colors. The feelings. The pictures. All real.

  And the anger. It swelled and crashed inside him in unending breakers. He’d almost lost his control in Garth’s office, almost beat the man raw for giving him what he’d sought all along—the truth.

  “You’re accepting all this as if it were gospel,” Taryn said in a mist-thin voice.

  Dulled with clouds of worry, her eyes begged for a retreat that had become impossible. Her skin looked too pale and blended in with the hot, white sky outside the window. The wrinkles on her forehead shouldn’t be there. That full mouth of hers should be open with laughter. Her skin should have the pink glow of happiness. And her eyes should be shooting sparks of joy.

  I will protect what’s mine. Chance bit down on the sour taste filling his mouth.

  He’d almost forgotten she was sitting next to him in the truck. Another trick of the mind? If he didn’t acknowledge she was here, then he wasn’t responsible if anything happened to her? Taking the easy way out again?

  “He knew me.” Chance hadn’t wanted to believe Garth, but each new detail brought cohesion to the random fragments of his memory, giving weight to Garth’s words.

  “That doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth.”

  “He knew things only someone who’d been there could know.” Kyle went after her to prevent her from rescuing Kent.

  The frown lines deepened on Taryn’s forehead. “He’s not telling the truth.”

  “What reason does he have to lie?” Kyle had a temper.

  “I don’t like him.”

  “You don’t like him because you don’t want to hear the truth. It doesn’t match with your idea of reality.” Ellen couldn’t handle the trauma of being nearly drowned by the man she loved…

  “You’re the one who’s not paying attention to reality—”

  His jaw ached from clenching his teeth. “Reality is that Kyle tried to stop Ellen from saving Kent. The picture in my mind shows me pushing someone underwater. There’s no way Garth could have known that unless he’d been there and witnessed it.”

  She twisted in the seat to face him. One palm lay protectively against her stomach. One fist pounded on her thigh. “No! Your nightmare showed you being pushed under.”

  Breath, where is his breath? Bump, bump, bump. Long blond hair writhes on the waves. From a gash on the side of her head pours blood. Hands pushing down. Drowning.

  “Watch out!”

  Shaking off the ghostly images, he stomped on the brakes to avoid colliding into a minivan’s rear end.

  “The truth isn’t always as pretty as you want it to be,” he said. Hollowness rang inside him. He’d wanted to deserve her fierce loyalty, but he knew he didn’t.

  She reached out for him, then drew back. Afraid? She should be.

  “Dr. Benton said the feelings can skew—” she started.

  “I don’t give a damn what a two-bit country shrink said. I know what I see, and what I see is death.”

  Taryn shrank back against the seat and looked out the side window. “I don’t think you should see Ellen.”

  Was Taryn so bent on preserving the image of who she thought he was that she would try to prevent him from seeing the truth?

  “I have to.” How else could he start to make amends?

  Garth was right. He had to face up to what he’d done. He’d tried running away. He’d tried forgetting. But his deeds had found a way to come back and haunt him.

  “Verify, Chance. That’s what you’d do if you were yourself. You wouldn’t take anyone’s word on the surface. Especially a total stranger’s.”

  He sneered as he braked for a red light. “Chance Conover, sheriff of Gabenburg County, Texas, doesn’t exist.”

  “Chance—”

  He flexed his fingers against the steering wheel. His foot on the gas pedal revved the engine. When the light turned green, he shot through the intersection. “I’m not a cop, Taryn. I’m not sure what I am anymore.”

  The soft entreaty of her gaze rippled against his conscience, but he refused to meet it. Ever since he’d woken up in that hospital room, he’d sensed he’d bring her nothing but heartache.

  “You’re my husband and my best friend. I won’t ever let you forget that.”

  The cop, the husband, the friend. All were built on lies. Now was the time to face the truth. “Seeing Ellen is verification.”

  “I won’t let you give up.” She seemed to wither into the seat, becoming small and fragile like a delicate flower on the edge of a well-traveled path. If he wasn’t careful, he would trample her, too. Part of him wanted to throw his head back and howl the lonesome echo baying in his soul.

  “I’m not giving up.”

  The time had come to finally stand up and do the right thing.

  Whatever the consequences.

  THE FRONT DOOR of the Pine Creek Home opened as if on cue. The same black-haired nurse from this morning stood waiting with a smile. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ramsey.”

  The nurse looked at Garth as if he were a god. Taryn almost gagged at the unwarranted adoration.

  She’d fallen for the charm, too. For a minute. Garth’s polished good looks had reminded her of a golden retriever groomed for the showring, oozing with reassuring allure. Then she’d realized by the exhibition of success tacked up on his walls and his braggadocio that he was mostly show and little substance.

  And that had frightened her. Not for herself—she had nothing to offer this man. But for Chance. A man with no substance had little regard for another man’s worth. In Garth’s currency, Chance was expendable. Especially when Chance was so ready to accept a blame he hadn’t earned.

  The guilt was there in every tense line of Chance’s body. The worst part was that there was nothing she could say to reassure him. The distance she’d hope to bridge by standing by his side was instead growing wider. She was losing him to his faulty memories.

  What if he chose to become Kyle? What would happen to her? What would his decision mean for her baby?

  “This way.” Garth led them into a second-story hallway where the plush burgundy carpet muffled their footsteps.

  The Pine Creek Home didn’t exude the impassive institutional atmosphere she’d expected. Instead of glaring white walls, the hallway wore comforting cloudlike swirls of cream and pale pink with a rich burgundy trim. Only the undertone of freshly cut flowers scented the air.

  If it weren’t for the small window in the door, Ellen’s room would have looked like a bedroom straight out of a decorating magazine. Gauzy fabrics in watercolor shades of teal and blue covered the window and draped the canopy of the fairy-princess bed. Muted sunlight filtered through the sheers and danced rainbows on the collection of crystal horses on the dresser.

  Taryn gasped at the figure who sat
at a small table by the window. The translucent skin, the frail body encased in a flowing white robe and a shawl of the palest green, the long blond hair curling down to her waist gave the woman an ethereal look. A Rapunzel dreaming of her prince.

  As the woman was fed a spoonful of soup by a nurse, the distressing vision of vacant green eyes shattered the romantic notion. For all the pleasure her face showed, she could have been a china doll eating dirty rainwater.

  “Ellen, darlin’. I’ve brought you some company.”

  She didn’t look up. She didn’t acknowledge their presence, just accepted another mouthful of soup.

  Garth crouched beside her and took her hand in his. With a finger, he turned her chin in his direction. Her eyebrows scrunched and a strange mewling sound escaped her.

  “It’s all right, darlin’. Look who’s here.” He guided her head until her line of sight included Chance.

  Chance looked like a prisoner facing execution. He seemed poised between two breaths, accepting, dreading the bullet that was coming. Yet when the shot rang out, neither of them was prepared.

  Ellen bleated like an injured calf. Her spastic attempts to rise resulted in the scattering of soup, bowl and utensils in every direction as if she were an animal caught in a snare and panicking.

  Garth stood beside her, supporting her. “It’s all right, darlin’. He can’t hurt you. I won’t let him.”

  The echo of Ellen’s cries tore at Taryn. She leaned forward to help, but Garth shook his head. The nurse and Garth exchanged a look and she disappeared.

  “Maybe it would be best if you left now,” Garth said.

  Taryn nodded.

  But Chance was rooted to the spot as if that bullet had found its mark and blasted all remaining spirit from his body. Tortured ghosts darkened his face.

  Tears burned Taryn’s eyes and choked her. No, this couldn’t be happening. Garth was confirming Chance’s nightmare. She wanted to rush across the room and strangle the man who was killing her dreams, her future, with his thoughtless actions. Instead, she went to stand next to Chance and took his arm. Tension strung him tight and the pain in his eyes wrenched her heart.