by Judy Duarte
As much as she’d hoped to avoid John Doe for the rest of his stay in Brighton Valley, she had to face the facts. He’d been invited to stay at Doc’s ranch, and he’d accepted.
He also had nowhere else to go.
So she crossed the room to the little closet and pulled open the door. A white plastic bag in which one of the nurses had packed the dirty clothes he’d been wearing sat next to a dusty pair of expensive Italian shoes.
Again, she was reminded that he hadn’t been dressed like any of the men who called Brighton Valley home. He was going to need something suitable to wear on the ranch-jeans and boots for a starter.
Leaving the loafers behind, she removed the bag and shut the closet door.
“Can I look at those before you take them?” he asked.
“Of course.” She carried the bag to him, then waited as he peered inside.
“Do they look familiar?” she asked.
He slowly shook his head and handed them back to her. “I wish they did.”
Her heart went out to him, even though she wished it hadn’t. And she felt herself being drawn closer to him, more involved.
“Then if it’s all right with you,” she said, “I’ll take these home with me, wash them and bring them back this evening when I come to work.”
“I hate to have you go to the trouble.”
She offered him a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be carrying your own weight before you know it.”
“You can count on that.”
He’d said it as if he meant it, and she believed him.
Or did she just want to believe that he was conscientious and responsible?
She lifted her wrist and checked her watch, even though there really wasn’t any reason to. The motion had become a signal she used to make her excuses and leave, to let people know that she had a schedule to keep-whether she did or not.
“Well,” she said, “I’d better go. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate all you’ve done. You’ve gone above and beyond for me, and you don’t have to.”
No, she didn’t. And she probably shouldn’t. But every time she gazed into his eyes, every time she spotted his vulnerability and sensed how lost he was, she couldn’t seem to leave well enough alone.
“Just pay it forward,” she said, letting him know there weren’t any strings attached, that she was just doing a good deed.
Then she left his room, took the elevator down to the lobby and headed to the parking lot. After climbing into her Honda Civic, she started the twenty-minute drive back to the ranch.
She had to give the poor guy credit. He’d been dealt a bad hand and was taking each day as it came. But for the time being, he didn’t have anything but the clothes he’d been wearing on Wednesday night.
As she spotted a Wal-Mart sign up ahead, it dawned on her that John was going to need more than a single outfit and shoes. And without giving it much thought, she pulled into the driveway and parked near the front door.
Then she took a quick peek into the bag of dirty clothing. The pants, a top-designer brand, had a thirty-four-inch waist, and the shirt and jacket were both size large.
She had a feeling John wasn’t the type to shop for clothes at a discount store, but this was the best she could do, the best she was willing to do. Her time was limited today, and she wasn’t going to hang around town until one of the nicer clothing stores opened. She really needed to go home and get some rest before her next shift started.
Twenty minutes later, she returned to her car carrying several bags filled with things John would need-shaving cream, razors, a popular aftershave, a toothbrush and toothpaste. She also picked up socks, boxer shorts and Wranglers, as well as a couple of shirts and a rugged pair of boots that were on sale, something suitable for walking around the ranch.
Okay, so her credit card had taken a direct hit, but he couldn’t very well get by without a change of clothes or toiletries.
By the time she arrived at the ranch, Doc was out in the yard waiting for her. But that didn’t surprise her. The two had grown close over the years, and he thought of her as a daughter.
“You’re late,” he said, as he approached her car, clearly worried. “I was just getting ready to call and see what was keeping you. I was afraid you might have fallen asleep on the way home and run into a ditch.”
“I’m all right, Doc.”
A crisp morning breeze kicked up a hank of his white hair, and he crossed his arms. “You can tell everyone else that you’re holding up just fine, but I know you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”
At one time, Dr. Graham had been the only physician in the valley, and Betsy wasn’t doing anything he hadn’t done every day of his fifty-year practice.
“The night shifts are tough,” she admitted, as she pulled the blue plastic bags from her car. “But I’ve got a day off tomorrow. I can catch up on my sleep then.”
“What’d you do?” he asked, nodding to the bags she held. “Go shopping on the way home?”
“I picked up a few things for John Doe. All he has are the clothes he was wearing.”
Her friend and mentor grimaced. “You didn’t need to spend any money. I’ve got plenty of old clothes he can wear. In fact, I’ve already gathered them together and have them ready for him.”
“But they might not be the right size.” And even if John could make do with an elderly man’s hand-me-downs, she doubted that the younger man would like wearing them. Doc may have been dapper in his day, but his sense of style was probably a little old-fashioned or bucolic for a man like John.
A man like John.
And just what kind of man was that? The irony struck her hard, and she let out a weary sigh.
Still, she carried her purchases, as well as John’s laundry, into Doc’s house.
“Do you mind if I use your washing machine?” she asked.
“Of course not.” He followed her to the service porch, where he kept his washer and dryer.
He watched as she set aside her purchases, then opened the white plastic bag and dumped out the dirty clothing onto the worktable next to the appliances.
As she separated the dark slacks from the white shirt, shorts and socks, she asked, “Do you have any colors I can put in with his pants?”
“Yes, but just leave those things right there. You’re getting those dark circles under your eyes again and you need to get some rest. I’ll take care of that for you.”
“All right.” She lifted the lid to the washer and dropped the slacks inside. Then she leaned forward, went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss on Doc’s wrinkled cheek. “What would I do without you?”
“Run yourself into the ground, I suspect.”
She smiled and gave him a hug. “Thanks, Doc. Then I’ll just take this other stuff into the spare bedroom and lay them out for him. After that, I’ll go home, take a hot shower and fix a cup of chamomile tea. I’ll probably be asleep before you know it.”
She gathered the Wal-Mart bags, and as she headed for the guest room, Doc tagged along behind her.
“I wish you wouldn’t have spent your hard-earned money on that fellow,” her friend said. “He’s probably going to leave town within the next couple of days and take all the new things with him.”
Doc had a point, but this was the holiday season, a time of goodwill and glad tidings. “The expense won’t break me. Besides, you remember what the Good Book says, ‘It’s more blessed to give than receive.’”
As she laid out the shaving gear and toiletries she’d purchased, Doc left the room and returned with a stack of clothes. “These pants used to fit me before I had that gall-bladder surgery last spring. If they’re too big around the waist, he can use a belt to cinch ’em up. And he can cuff them if they’re too long.”
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”
At least, she hoped he would. There was so much about the man she didn’t know…
“This is just a te
mporary fix,” Doc said. “I’m sure his memory will eventually return, and when it does, he’ll head back to wherever he came from.”
That was true. John Doe was just passing through her life-here today and gone tomorrow.
And whether she’d be happy about that or not was left to be seen.
Dr. Kelso discharged John on Friday, which worked out well since Betsy was off that day and could drive out to the hospital to pick him up.
When she entered his room, she found him dressed in the outfit he’d been wearing when he’d arrived at the Stagecoach Inn last Wednesday night, the one that Doc had laundered and she’d pressed for him. Black slacks, a white shirt and expensive leather shoes.
“It looks like you’re ready to go,” she said.
“I’m waiting for someone to bring a wheelchair, which seems crazy to me. I can walk.”
“It’s hospital policy.”
“That’s what the nurse said.”
For an awkward moment, silence stretched between them, and while she probably ought to make small talk to break the tension, she sketched a gaze over him.
Just as she’d suspected, he stood over six feet tall, with dark hair that curled up at his collar and eyes that could soften the hardest of hearts. He looked sharp and stylish, and she could easily imagine the impression he’d left on the rednecks and cowboys who’d been at the honky-tonk last Wednesday night.
Witnesses had said that he’d left the bar alone. And if that were the case, then he’d done so by choice. Any woman on the prowl-married or single-would have jumped at the chance to go home with him.
Maybe he hadn’t been interested in romance.
And if not, she wondered why. Was he already committed to someone?
The moment the question crossed her mind, she realized she was trying too hard to read into things. His memory would eventually return, and when it did, she’d have the answers she needed.
Or, at least, he would.
Shrugging off her curiosity the best she could, she said, “I’m sure the wheelchair is on its way.”
“I hope so. I’m also going to have to stop by the accounting office, but that won’t take long.”
She supposed it wouldn’t because he didn’t have the means to pay the bill. But neither of them broached that fact.
“Maybe they can put me on some kind of payment plan,” he said. “It’s also possible that I have health insurance and the details will come to me later. Either way, I’ll make it right.”
She hoped he meant that for several reasons. First of all, the hospital was already struggling to make ends meet, and they didn’t need one more financial burden. And second, she wanted to believe that integrity came natural to him.
He certainly seemed convincing, but that was left to be seen. So far, the only things Betsy knew about John were guesswork and hunches.
And given her track record, who knew how accurate those would prove to be?
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll get my car and pull it up to the curb in front of the hospital. You can find me when you’re done in the office.”
He nodded, and she left his room, eager to escape all the what-ifs that seemed to crop up whenever she was around him.
Minutes later, she sat in her idling car outside the lobby entrance to the medical center, waiting for someone to bring John out to the curb. But she didn’t have to wait long. The automatic door soon swung open, and Stan Thompson, one of the hospital volunteers, pushed John’s wheelchair outside.
Betsy waved, letting the men know that she was in the white Civic. And when John smiled in return, her heart spun in her chest.
She hoped it wasn’t a big mistake to take him to Doc’s ranch. But the plan had already been set in motion, and there wasn’t much she could do about it now.
As John climbed from the chair and slid into the passenger seat of her car, they both thanked Stan, and then they were on their way.
“It was nice of Dr. Graham to let me stay with him,” John said, breaking the silence.
“He’s a great guy. And he’s got a heart as big as they make them.”
“Apparently so.” John peered out the passenger window at the passing scenery, the cattle in the fields, the pale green water tower with the name Brighton Valley painted across it in bold black letters.
She’d studied the same sights when she’d first come to town, and she wondered if he liked what he saw, if he felt as though he’d come home, too.
“It’s peaceful out here,” he finally said.
“I think so.” It was one reason she liked living outside of town and didn’t mind the extra time it took to drive to work.
“How far is the ranch from here?” he asked.
“About twenty minutes.”
“Is it a bad commute?”
There it went again-another hunch based upon something as simple as a word choice. Did John live in a large city? One in which people talked about their commutes to work?
Rather than continue to make those kinds of leaps, she answered his question. “No, it’s not bad. Although I do wish I lived a little closer to town. My parents live at the Shady Glen Retirement Home, so it would mean a lot less driving time.”
“Are your parents elderly?” he asked.
She nodded. “My mom and dad were married for twenty years before they adopted me.”
“Are you an only child?”
“Yes.”
John stared out the windshield, watching the road ahead. He seemed to ponder her statement for a while, then he turned to her and added, “They must be very proud of you.”
“They are.” She thought about her mom and dad, about how they’d cheered each of her successes, how they’d shared all they had with her. A warm smile stretched across her face. “I’m proud of them, too.”
“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because they fell in love and made a lifetime commitment to each other. A lot of people aren’t that lucky-or that dedicated to each other. I certainly wasn’t.”
“So you’re divorced?”
She hadn’t meant to share any personal details with him, especially about Doug and their split, but it was a little late to backpedal now. John had already picked up on it. “Yes, I was married right after I got out of med school. But it didn’t work out.”
“Why? Because you weren’t lucky or dedicated?”
“I wasn’t lucky, and he wasn’t dedicated.”
He let it go for a moment, as if trying to make sense of what she’d said-and what she hadn’t. Then he asked, “So how did luck play into it?”
“I think people who meet the perfect partner and fall in love are incredibly fortunate.” She shrugged. “And I wasn’t.”
“I take it your ex wasn’t in it for the long haul,” John said, filling in the blanks.
He might have been an attorney or a police detective in his real life. Or else he was good at probing for answers.
If anyone else had been quizzing her, she might have considered them rude. But for some reason, she didn’t think John was overstepping his bounds. He knew so little about himself that a conversation like this might trigger his own memories.
“All the time I spent at the hospital took a toll on our relationship,” she said, still holding back.
She could have told him that Doug had cheated, but there was a part of her that didn’t want to admit that her love hadn’t been enough for him.
“Does he-your ex-husband-live around here?”
“He’s from Houston. When we split, I wanted to put some distance between us. That’s when I bought Doc’s practice and moved to Brighton Valley.”
“And your parents came with you?”
“I couldn’t imagine my life without them or not being able to visit them at a moment’s notice. On top of that, my mom’s having a few health issues, and I can monitor them easier if she’s nearby.”
“I’m sorry. Are those ‘issues’ serious?”
“They could be, but medication is helping. An
d she’s got a great outlook on life.”
“Even living in a rest home?”
“Shady Glen isn’t a convalescent hospital. The residents are all free to come and go as they please. And my parents are pretty active. In fact, they left yesterday on a trip to Galveston with some of the other residents.” Betsy let the subject ride for a couple of minutes, then glanced across the seat at her passenger, a handsome stranger who now knew a lot more information about her than he did about himself.
Before he could comment or quiz her any further, she added, “And for what it’s worth, I’d planned to buy a house in town and have them live with me, but they insisted upon moving into Shady Glen. It’s worked out well, though. And it was the right decision for them to make. They’ve been able to maintain their independence while living in a safe environment, which is important. And they’ve made friends with their neighbors.”
“That’s great.”
She let his words and the subject trail off, as she focused on the road ahead. She wasn’t going to share any more intimate details with John, even if there seemed to be a friendship brewing between them.
But they couldn’t possibly become friends-or anything else. Not until she learned more about him.
As the car neared the county road that would take them to Doc’s ranch, she tossed another casual glance John’s way, only to find him looking at her, too.
Their gazes locked, holding her with some kind of invisible grip, and she realized her resolve to keep an emotional distance wasn’t holding up.
And even if his identity and his past were still a mystery, she’d certainly settle for knowing what was going on in his mind.
Was she the only one feeling a sexual charge whenever their eyes met?
John tore his gaze away from Betsy’s and tried to get his thoughts on an even keel.
He had no business getting involved with anyone until his memory returned. Trouble was, there was something about the beautiful E.R. doctor that made it impossible for him to keep his distance.
Sure, there’d been an instant attraction, which wasn’t surprising. She was a beautiful woman-bright, successful and caring. And she was the only person in this world who seemed to have his back.
