by Curry, Edna
Jane turned to stare at the long steel bridge with traffic rushing across it and swallowed. “Yes, I remember trying to grab onto those rocks, but I couldn’t hold onto them. They were too slippery.”
“Below the bridge, in the gorge between those high cliffs, is an area where young people like to dive off the cliffs. The water is up to ninety feet deep there and the current is very fast. Many good swimmers have gotten caught in the current and drowned there, just trying to cross from one side of the river to the other.”
“Oh.” She shuddered. “I did have a narrow escape, then, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you sure did.”
Mel watched her. She stood looking at the water, a shocked expression on her face. There was no hint that she was lying. He’d bet anything she really didn’t remember. She’d have to be a wonderful actress to look like that if she was only pretending to have lost her memory.
The question was—when would her memory return? Was the man she’d been with still looking for her? Mel didn’t like thinking about that. He sighed and asked, “Ready to go eat?”
She nodded and they walked back toward Lander’s Main Street and the Flame Restaurant.
The restaurant wasn’t crowded, yet it seemed that many people stopped by their table to be introduced to Jane and to talk to her. At least none of them seemed to be reporters. People were curious, he couldn’t help thinking as he watched her smile and answer questions.
The man who’d stopped now was Joe Jenkins, who ran one of the lumberyards. He was well past his prime, but still considered himself a lady’s man. His weather-beaten face sported a dark tan that was a sharp contrast to the thick, snow white shock of hair on his head. The white goatee on his chin wiggled as he guffawed in glee when she laughed at one of his jokes, then happily hurried to catch up with his wife who’d followed the hostess to their table.
Mel didn’t mind the townspeople, though he wasn’t sure if Jane did or not. She treated them all politely, although she seemed nervous about talking to strangers. She ate quickly and said little.
I feel on display, Jane thought. I’m the local curiosity, probably the object of gossip in this little burg. She shuddered at the unpleasant thought. She felt safe with Mel, yet oddly uneasy when others stopped by to meet her, even though they were all very friendly and nice to her. They were sympathetic and obviously trying to be helpful. Still, even as she laughed and joked, she wanted to hide.
Had she always disliked meeting the public? If she was a teacher, as Marion and that lady in the dress shop today seemed to think she might be, wouldn’t she be used to talking to parents and others?
She finished her seafood salad and sipped at her coffee. She should have ordered decaf. She was going to lie awake half the night after drinking regular coffee this late in the day.
Now where had that thought come from? How did she know too much coffee kept her awake?
The thought that she could remember silly, unimportant things like that and not the important things she needed to know to get her life back made her angry.
She bit her lip to keep from asking Mel if he was ready to go. That would be so impolite! He was still finishing the fried chicken he’d ordered. And he was, after all, paying for their dinner. The least she could do would be to show some appreciation.
She forced a smile and sipped her water. “That was very good. Thanks for taking me out for dinner.”
“You’re welcome. You’re pretty quiet, tonight,” he said, meeting her gaze.
“I’m just tired, I guess.” Well, she was feeling very tired.
“It’s still early. Are you too tired to do anything else tonight?”
“What would you like to do?”
Mel shrugged. “Whatever you’d like. See a movie? Watch TV?”
She thought a moment. “Actually, I’d like to go back to see your cabin again, to see the area by the river where I must have climbed out and walked to your cabin.”
At his surprised look, she added, “The doctor said maybe some familiar sights would help trigger some memories for me. And that’s the only familiar sight I can remember at the moment.”
“Sure,” Mel said, picking up the check. “We should have enough time to do that before it gets dark. But I got the feeling the river makes you uncomfortable.”
She nodded. “It does that. In fact, it gives me nightmares. But I need to try this to see if it will bring back any memories.”
“All right.” He paid their bill and they walked out to his car. He drove them out to his log cabin. When he parked in front of the cabin, she sat looking at it for a long moment, then got out and stood looking toward the river.
He got out and took her arm. “You must have come up from over there, didn’t you?” He pointed toward an area of the riverbank where it dipped down close to the water.
“I’m not sure. I remember getting out of the water and lying on the grass. I was coughing up water and vomiting. I think I just lay there and rested for a while, happy to be on solid ground at last. Then I remember shivering and realizing I needed to find shelter and help. I saw your cabin through the trees and walked toward it.”
They walked down to the riverbank and along it. The earthy smell of soil and river water surrounded her. In the distance, a dog barked, breaking the eerie silence of the countryside.
Mel took her arm. “Watch your step, the ground’s uneven here. Do you remember anything before you got here?”
She shook her head and couldn’t stop the tears. Without thinking, she turned to him, hiding her face against his broad chest. His heat and manly scent surrounded her, making her feel warm and safe.
Mel put his arms around her and held her, dropping a kiss onto her hair. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Go ahead and cry. You’ll feel better.”
After a minute of crying with her forehead against his shirt, she straightened and looked up at him. He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away her tears. Their eyes met and he bent his head.
She knew he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to kiss her. His lips brushed hers, lightly at first and then they firmly settled on hers. He felt warm and delightful, yet unfamiliar and scary.
Jane wrapped her arms around him, responding to him immediately. She opened her lips to his probing tongue and melted against him, enjoying the shivers of awareness that hummed between them. She snuggled closer, deepening the kiss, wanting him to never let her go.
But somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she shouldn’t be doing this. She might be involved with another man, or she might even be married–married to an abuser who’d tried to kill her. Oh, God, and what if he tried again? She realized he might try again if he learned he hadn’t succeeded. If only she could remember him so she’d know who to look out for.
She had no right to be attracted to Mel now, however much her body wanted to be with him.
She reluctantly dropped her arms and pulled away from him. She stepped back, the tears starting again. She drew a long, shuddering breath to regain control.
Embarrassed now at the way she’d reacted, she said, “I’m sorry, I’m not usually such a crybaby. But I feel so helpless and frustrated, not being able to remember who I am or where I belong.”
He sighed, handed her his handkerchief and eyed her thoughtfully, “You know you usually aren’t a crybaby?”
“Yes,” she said, defiantly, blowing her nose. “I also know other stupid stuff, like what brand and color of makeup I wear. I even recognized some brands of clothes that aren’t cut the way I like when Marion and I went shopping today. And I know how to count money and approximately what the prices of various items should be. So why can’t I remember the important stuff like my own name? Even kindergartners can memorize their address and phone number, for goodness’ sake!”
Lifting a shoulder, Mel said, “Who knows? Our bodies and minds are mysterious things. No one understands everything about them yet. Maybe they never will.”
“I suppose that’s true.” She stared out ove
r the moving water, considering that.
“And maybe you’re just all tense, you know, trying too hard to remember. Maybe things will pop into your head if you relax and don’t think about it for awhile.”
“Maybe.” If only he was right. She wanted the sour curls of panic in her stomach to go away, wanted to feel happy and good about life again. But she had no idea of how to accomplish that.
Mel turned back toward his cabin. “So, you walked on up to my cabin, probably across this grassy area here.”
She shuddered and tried to pull her mind back to their discussion. “Yes. I remember thinking there should be a phone and I could call for help.”
“And found the door locked, so got in anyway, but found no phone.”
“That’s right,” she said as they stepped inside the cabin now. “I was so wet and cold, even though it was a warm day. I remember how good the sun felt on my skin.”
“You were probably in shock. Besides, the river is always cold because of underground springs.”
“Oh. Anyway, I was exhausted from fighting the current and your sofa looked inviting. I wrapped up in the afghan, trying to get warm, and fell asleep. That’s all I remember until I woke up and saw you and the sheriff. I’m sorry I screamed at the sight of you.” She smiled at him. “You’re really not a scary looking person. In fact, you’re very nice looking.”
He grinned at her. “I’m glad you think so. Anyway, that was a natural reaction. You had no way of knowing whether we were friend or foe.”
“I suppose you’re right about that.”
“Sit down. Would you like something to drink, coffee or soda?”
She lowered herself to the sofa. It showed no damage from her earlier visit, thank goodness. “No more coffee, but a can of soda would be nice if you have something without caffeine in it.”
He took a couple of cans of caffeine-free cola from the refrigerator and handed one to her. Then he popped the top of the other and sank into a soft chair opposite her.
“You have a very nice cabin.”
“Thanks. I like it.” He sipped his soda, resting one foot on the other knee in a crossed position. He was wearing athletic running shoes and thick white socks. She wondered if he liked to run.
Maybe they could go running before work some morning. She itched to do that again. Again? A memory of how good it felt to be running down a tree-lined street early in the morning flickered in her mind. But when she tried to grasp it to examine it more closely, it eluded her.
She sighed and asked, “Do you come here often?”
He nodded. “Mostly on weekends. I like to fish and get away from dealing with the public.”
“Some people are a pain to deal with, aren’t they?” she said with a smile. “I heard you trying to soothe a client on the phone today. I gathered he’s not in a hurry to pay his taxes?”
“Right. Before the April fifteen income tax deadline, it’s the worst.”
She frowned. “But it’s June now. So why are you still so busy?”
“For one thing, I have quite a few clients who filed extensions. Most of them did that because they didn’t have the ready cash to pay their taxes, so weren’t in any hurry to pay.”
“I see. So now they have until when?”
“August. But I still like to get most of them done as soon as possible, so my life can get back to a slower pace. And the second reason is that my assistant quit a few weeks ago and I haven’t hired another one yet. Her husband took a job in another town, so of course, she went with him.”
“Oh. And what do you do the rest of the year? After tax season, I mean?”
“I keep the books for several small businesses. They make their own bank deposits and write their own checks, but I keep track of it all for them in my computer, and give them monthly P & L reports. Also I do their quarterly estimated taxes, inventory reports, that sort of thing.”
“I see.” The silence between them lengthened as she finished off the soda. “Your afghan isn’t here. I didn’t ruin it, did I?”
“No. Don’t worry, it’s washable and only had a little mud on it. It’s still in the dryer. I did a load of laundry last night and haven’t gotten it out, yet.”
“Oh. I’m glad I didn’t ruin it.” She fidgeted and set the empty can on the end table.
He sighed and asked, “Would you like to go back to the apartment, now?” Maybe she was afraid he’d make a pass at her and she wasn’t ready for that. He wasn’t either, though after that kiss, his body certainly was.
She nodded in relief at his offer to leave. “I am pretty tired.”
“You need extra rest after that ordeal. I’m sure you don’t have all your strength back yet.”
She nodded and they went out to his car. She knew her recent ordeal had a good deal to do with her fatigue. But she was worried about the possibility of a bad past relationship, too.
If she really was a teacher she couldn’t afford a scandal. A scandal would probably cost her job, no matter what the contract said. Public opinion was powerful stuff. Best to keep quiet until she knew where she stood.
Later, as she climbed into bed, she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again. She liked Mel too much. She had no right to begin a relationship with anyone until she knew who her life already included.
She lay on her back in the dark, tears sliding down the sides of her face into her ears. What did the future hold for her? She had to get her life back together somehow. If she only knew how.
~ * ~
Back in his cabin, Mel wondered the same thing. He was attracted to her. He’d kissed her and wanted much more than that with her, wanted to make love to her.
He lay awake, restless, imagining what it would be like to run his fingers through that silky red hair. To kiss her soft, white neck, run his tongue around that perfect shell of her ear. He could imagine her shivering in delight at the delicious sensation that would give her.
He’d slide off her lacy bra and kiss her soft breast. What color undies did she wear? Were they silk or a practical cotton? He’d lick her nipples and nip and suckle them. She’d let him push away her panties and slip a finger inside her moist opening. She’d groan in pleasure and open her legs, urging him to take her. Was her hair red and curly down there as well?
He grew hard at the fantasy. Yes, that’s what he wanted, all right. He had a pretty good idea she would have liked the same thing.
But any relationship between them was impossible until they knew who she was and what commitments her life already held.
Chapter 7
In the living room of his Maple Lake, WI, rambler, Barry Jeller sank into his comfortable brown leather sofa to read the various newspapers he’d bought. His wife, Joyce, was cooking their dinner in the kitchen and his daughter, Sally, was playing outside, so he could read in peace for a while.
Joyce had just learned she was pregnant again and he was sure that was why she was so nervous and irritable lately. Her hormones were probably out of whack. She made him crazy.
He scanned the pages of the papers he’d brought home carefully for news of any deaths or bodies found in the St. Croix River, as he’d been doing for days. Nothing.
Damn it, they should have found Cara’s body by now. Or there should have been something in the paper about her being missing by now. How long did it take for a body to wash ashore, anyway? Hours? Days? He had no idea. Then it might take a while to identify her.
He had to get the hell out of this two-bit town before someone figured out his connection to her. That could cause even worse trouble.
He should have thought the matter through better, researched all the possibilities. A car accident might have been safer, but he knew next to nothing about cars.
He’d been dumb to get involved with another woman in the first place. How could he have been so stupid? A married teacher in a small rural area had to watch out for scandal in any form. They were supposed to set an example for the teens they taught. Instead he’d slipped up and she’d
found out about the drugs he was dealing at her school. Stupid, stupid.
He’d met Cara at a convention. They taught in different towns so he was sure she hadn’t found out about his marriage. She’d fallen in love with him, of course. He was, after all, an attractive man. That wasn’t his fault. Why shouldn’t he take what was offered? He deserved some fun.
Married life had gotten boring and humdrum in this little backwater burg. He needed and deserved better. Dating Cara had made life exciting again. Then he’d lucked out and made connections to sell drugs at her school. Seeing her was a great cover for him to be there until she’d gotten suspicious of his activities and he’d panicked.
Stupid woman. And stupid him, too. He’d gone ballistic when she threatened to turn him in and said it wasn’t what it looked like. He could explain everything. He’d told her he’d fallen in love with her and hinted that he was ready to propose. Of course, she didn’t know about Joyce or their daughter. He’d let her believe he was single. Women were so gullible.
He’d taken her for a picnic by the river, telling her what a romantic tourist spot this was and she ought to see it. She hadn’t suspected a thing until the last minute before she went into the water.
No one had seen them in that remote spot, he was sure of that. She’d screamed as she fell, but the roar of water going over the dam would have covered that noise.
No one had been around. He’d gone back to the Twin Cities the long way around, going miles out of his way upriver just in case anyone had seen his car parked on the road to the dam.
Maybe he should have left her purse behind to make it look like suicide. But without a car, that wouldn’t have been very believable anyway.
No, telling her family she was going on a trip was better. Lucky he’d been to her apartment often enough that he knew about her habit of emailing her mother. That had been a great idea, to use her own computer to send her mother a message about traveling in Europe with anonymous ‘friends’. He’d looked at some of the messages she’d sent her mother before, to make his sound the same as her earlier messages. He’d simply had to hit reply and type in a few lines. The message would have looked like it came from her, and would keep the heat off for a while.
