The Texan's Future Bride

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  The partnering didn’t last long. Nathan started a line dance, and the rest of them followed. Even Aidan jumped in, kicking up his heels.

  But not Donna. She darted over to the stove, as if she was saving the food from Billy Ray’s old mullet.

  “That one needs some country spirit,” Nathan said. “Too bad there isn’t a guy around to upset her Big City Apple cart.”

  Jenna and Tammy exchanged a behind-the-scenes glance, and J.D. assumed that they were thinking about Caleb Granger and his supposed attraction to Donna. But neither woman said anything to Nathan. Obviously they didn’t trust him not to create a scene over it. Besides, Caleb was still out of town, and from what J.D. had heard about him from Manny, Caleb was a player with tons of women at his disposal. Donna didn’t need her cart upset quite that far.

  Soon the line dancers disbursed. Jenna and Tammy joined Donna at the stove, and the brothers went outside to grab some air.

  Doc came over to J.D. and put his hand on his shoulder. “Tammy told me how your memory is starting to return. I’m glad you recalled some good things about yourself.”

  Good things. Doc was obviously referring to the Sam Houston/Cherokee information. J.D. wanted to tell him about the dark feelings he’d been dealing with today, but now wasn’t the time. So he simply said, “Thanks.”

  “We’ll miss you around here when you’re gone.”

  “I’ll miss this crazy clan, too.” But mostly he would miss Jenna. As she bustled around the kitchen, barely getting anything done, he thought about the man she was going to marry. Whoever he was, he would be a lucky guy.

  Overall, the dinner was a success. The meal was delicious, and Jenna seemed proud of her Slow Cooker accomplishments. The newly formed group ate in the formal dining room, with a linen tablecloth, polished silverware and a floral centerpiece. The Byrds, J.D. thought as he glanced around at their faces.

  A wonderfully mixed-up flock learning to be a

  family.

  Chapter Eleven

  The following morning at the cabin, J.D. and Jenna had breakfast—toaster waffles, doused in maple syrup.

  She said, “I wonder if my next lesson should be waffles. Or do you like pancakes better?”

  “I like either one.” But mostly he liked her. She still had the same sunny disposition from yesterday. And he’d yet to tell her what was going on with him.

  “Do you think it’s the same batter?”

  “What?”

  “Pancakes and waffles?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll have to talk to Tammy about it. She makes this really good chicken and waffles dish.”

  Barely hearing her, J.D. gazed at the clouds in his coffee.

  “What’s wrong? You seem preoccupied.”

  He glanced up. “I’ve been having bad feelings about my past.”

  She put down her fork. “What do you mean?”

  He stopped eating, too. “I’m certain that whatever went wrong in my family can’t be repaired.”

  “How can you be certain of something like that?”

  “It’s just what I feel, what I sense.” Deep inside, where it counted.

  “Do you have any memories to go along with those feelings?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t understand your certainty. You could be confused.” She continued to evaluate the unknown situation. “What sort of thing could have happened that can’t be repaired? Look at what’s going on in my family and how we’re coping with it.”

  “You haven’t forgiven your dad.”

  “That’s different.”

  “What makes your family different from mine?”

  She clammed up.

  “See,” he said. “No difference.”

  “If I reached out to my dad, would you change your perspective about your family? Would you start to believe that whatever went wrong could be repaired?”

  “I can’t make a judgment call like that until I remember my past.”

  “We could hire Roland Walker to try to find out who you are. He would have a lot more time to devote to your case than the police.”

  He shook his head. “I appreciate the suggestion, but I’d rather let the sheriff’s department handle it. Or better yet, to remember on my own.”

  “But you haven’t remembered yet, and a P.I. would delve deeper than the police. All they’re doing is trying to find out your name and if you were carjacked.”

  “And that’s exactly why I don’t want Roland involved. I’m not comfortable with someone digging up bones.”

  “Does Doc know that you’re having bad feelings?”

  “I wanted to tell him last night, but it wasn’t the right time.”

  “Would you mind if we talked to him together?”

  “Not at all. In fact, I would prefer it.” At this stage, he wanted to be as truthful as possible and for Jenna to know him as well as he knew himself, which wasn’t saying much, he supposed. But it was the best he could do. “I’m not trying to hide anything from you. I think it’s important to be honest. Otherwise our affair wouldn’t seem right.”

  “Honesty is the very first quality on my list.”

  The vast blueness of her eyes nearly pulled him under, but her comment had packed an even bigger punch.

  So much so, it became overly apparent.

  “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to imply that you...”

  He almost wished that she was, but it was wrong for him to feel that way, especially amid the murky waters in his mind. “I didn’t think you were. We both know I’m not the guy from your list.”

  She went silent, and he studied her, intrigued by the way daylight zigzagged through the blinds and cast a glow on her hair. But there were always little things about her that fascinated him.

  Interrupting the quiet, she picked up her fork. He resumed eating, as well.

  She said, “I wonder if you’re going to have any more dreams while you’re here. Or if your memories will return while you’re awake.”

  “If my memories are bad, I hope they don’t come in dreams. Because if they did, then Nathan would be right. This would be the nightmare cabin.”

  “That would be awful.”

  He nodded, then asked, “Are you ever going to reach out to your dad?”

  “I would if it would help you come to terms with your family and whatever is causing the darkness.”

  “You can’t fix me, Jenna. You can only fix what’s broken within yourself.”

  “I know. But I want to make you feel better.”

  “You are. Believe me. Just knowing that you care matters.”

  “Same goes for me.”

  Before it got too emotional, he said, “We better finish up and get to work.”

  “When should we talk to Doc?”

  “Tonight, if he’s around.”

  They cleared the table and left the cabin. They walked to the stables together, then went their separate ways. He rode fence with Hugh, and she went into the barn to tend to her horses. And although J.D. was swamped with work, he thought about Jenna throughout the day and suspected that she was thinking of him, too.

  * * *

  Doc stopped by the cabin that evening, and Jenna listened while he and J.D. talked.

  “Do you think my mind is playing tricks on me?” J.D. asked.

  “Do you think that’s what is happening?” the other man asked in return.

  “No, but Jenna mentioned it.”

  Doc didn’t ask her to expound on her opinion, but there was no need. It was obvious that she was troubled by J.D having a past that couldn’t be repaired. Or a past that he didn’t think could be repaired. There was a difference. She knew that better than anyone, and it was star
ting to make her guilty for hanging on to her Daddy resentments.

  J.D. spoke to Doc again. “Jenna suggested hiring Roland Walker to hunt down my identity, but I don’t want to do that. It’s too personal to bring a P.I. into it.”

  “I understand,” came the professional reply. “Another option would be to talk to a psychologist. I can recommend someone, if you’d like.”

  “Why do I need to talk to someone else? I’m already talking to you.”

  “This isn’t my field of expertise, J.D.”

  “But I’m comfortable with you.”

  “Then you can continue to confide in me. I want to help in any way I can.”

  “Give me your opinion. I want to know what you think, regardless of your field of expertise.”

  “All right.” Doc’s voice was strong and steady, like the man he was. “I think that you need to relax and not worry so much about it. It seems obvious, to me anyway, that you need more time to address your feelings. And I think your memories will become clear when your mind is able to process the past and accept it, whatever it entails.”

  It was good advice, Jenna thought, and made complete sense to her.

  “That’s pretty much what you told me in the beginning,” J.D. said. “To relax and let things happen naturally.”

  “And it still applies.”

  “I’ve had uneasy feelings about myself from the start, but it’s getting harder to handle now that they’re progressing.”

  “But what about the positive things you’ve recalled? It’s not all bad.”

  J.D. furrowed his brows. “Meaning what? That every cloud has a silver lining, even the stormy ones?”

  “I’d certainly like to think so.”

  “Ditto,” Jenna said.

  J.D. shook his head. “There you go ganging up on me. You two did that at the hospital, convincing me to stay here.”

  “That didn’t turn out so badly, did it?” Doc asked.

  J.D.’s expression softened, and when he glanced at Jenna, her heart went sweet and gooey.

  “It turned out really nice,” he said, still looking at her.

  Her heart went even gooier. She was working so incredibly hard not to fall in love with him, and at this point, all she could do was keep praying that she didn’t melt at his feet.

  J.D. continued to look at her. She wanted him to break eye contact, but at the same time, she wanted to freeze this moment and keep it forever.

  Forever. A dangerous word. A dangerous wish.

  On and on it went. The look. The emotional push-pull. The fear of falling in love with him.

  Then, thankfully, Doc cleared his throat, snaring J.D.’s attention and making Jenna breathe easier.

  J.D. said to Doc, “I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

  “Just let me know any time you need to talk.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  Both men stood up and shook hands. Jenna got to her feet, too. Doc smiled at her, and she suspected it was his way of trying to help her relax. No doubt he could tell that she was fighting her feelings for J.D.

  After Tammy’s fiancé left, Jenna went into the kitchen to heat a pan of milk, her way of dealing with her feelings.

  “Are you making hot chocolate?” J.D. asked.

  “No. Just the milk. I can make hot chocolate for you, though.”

  “That’s okay. I don’t want anything.” He leaned against the counter. “Remember when I made tea for you at the motel?”

  She nodded.

  “I think it was because I used to know someone who drank tea. Someone I was close to.”

  She started. “A former lover?”

  “I don’t know. It was a random feeling.” He motioned to the pan she’d put on the stove. “I prefer cold milk.”

  “I like it cold, too. But Mom used to warm it for me when I was a kid. It’s a comfort thing.”

  “That’s nice.” He came forward and slipped his arms around her. “You know what gives me comfort? Being around you.”

  She returned his hug, breathing in his masculine beauty and keeping him close. “What am I going to do after you’re gone?”

  “Find the man of your dreams,” he whispered.

  The man of my dreams, she thought. The man she loved. That was a lost cause. Because deep down, she knew that she’d already found him.

  * * *

  The week passed without incident. Roland Walker hadn’t located Savannah yet or uncovered anything about her that indicated whether she’d had a child, J.D. hadn’t remembered anything new about himself and Jenna was still struggling with the revelation that she loved him.

  And now as she prepared to meet J.D. on their break, her pulse wouldn’t stop pounding.

  She removed their sack lunches from the fridge in the barn and headed to the spot they’d agreed upon, just east of the stables and beneath a shady tree.

  Plunking down beneath the towering oak, she waited for him.

  He arrived shortly, and as he walked toward her, he looked sinfully sexy, moving with a long, lean gait. He also had Tex’s borrowed Stetson perched low on his head. Jenna was wearing a hat, too, with a red bandana tied around the outside of the crown.

  “Afternoon,” he said, and sat in the grass next to her.

  She handed him his lunch, as nervous as a calf in the midst of being roped. Only it was her heart that was being lassoed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, obviously noticing that she seemed off. “Did something happen with Savannah?”

  “No.” Being honest about what was bothering her wasn’t something she was capable of doing, not without admitting that she loved him. So she tried to wrangle in her emotions or at least not let them show. “There’s no news. And I’m fine. Just hungry.” She opened her sack and removed her sandwich, forcing a bite.

  He didn’t eat right away. Instead, he took a drink of his water. She watched him swallow, fascinated by the line of his neck and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed with the effort.

  “You were staring at me,” he said afterward.

  “Was I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Turnabout is fair play. You stare at me all the time, too.”

  “Guilty as charged. But neither of us should be doing it.”

  “Because it isn’t polite to stare?”

  “Yep.” He leaned over and kissed her.

  Heavens, he was the best kisser in the world. She wanted to crawl on to his lap and rub herself all over him, like a cat in heat. Or a woman in the throes of love.

  “You taste like roast beef and avocado.” He grinned. “Tastes good.”

  “I packed you the same lunch.” She gestured to his sack. “Go for it.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.” He unwrapped his sandwich. “You’re getting better at the kitchen stuff.”

  Wife practice, she thought, with a man who would never be her husband. “I’m trying.”

  He gazed at the bandana tied around her hat. Then blinked in an interested way.

  “What?” she asked.

  “The color just made me think of something. On the Native American medicine wheel, red symbolizes success and triumph.”

  “You just had another Cherokee memory.”

  “Apparently so.” He sounded pleased. “And your hatband was the trigger.”

  She wasn’t feeling triumphant or successful. But she summoned a smile, for his sake. “That’s nice, J.D.”

  “It’s a lot better than those dark feelings.”

  “Are you still having those?”

  “Yes.” They sat quietly and ate, then he said, “I hope this isn’t going to sound like a loaded question, but how do you feel about the Savannah situation now that you’re interested in meeting her? Do you want ther
e to be another Byrd? Or would you prefer that there is no child?”

  It was a loaded question, and she considered it carefully. “If there is no child, it will be a relief not to have to worry about who that person is and how he or she will fit into our lives. But on the other hand, if there isn’t, I might actually be disappointed. Like I lost someone in my family that I never even got to know.”

  “I would feel that way, too.” He glanced away and frowned.

  Really, really frowned, she noticed.

  “Did you just remember something bad?” she asked, analyzing how quickly his mood had changed.

  “The children.” He stared straight ahead. “I remember them. Or sort of remember...”

  She leaned toward him. “What children?”

  He discarded his lunch, crinkling the bag in his distress. “There were kids in my family who got left behind. I don’t know who they were or how many of them there were, but I can feel their existence.”

  “What do you mean? Left behind?”

  “In foster care. Kids who were supposed to get adopted but never were. That’s why I know about the foster-care system. That’s why it’s been so important to me.”

  Her heart dropped to her stomach. Was it possible that they were his kids? That he was their biological father? Or that he’d actually been married? Was that why the thought of having a wife and kids made him panic?

  No, she thought. He was too kind, too decent to have given up on his children or let them be taken away from him. And with the recurring talk of marriage, with it being a constant topic, wouldn’t he have remembered having a wife, especially now with the foster-children memory?

  “Was it you?” she asked, just to see what he would say.

  He blinked. “What?”

  “Did you father them?”

  “No. God, no. I wasn’t their dad.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I’m absolutely certain that I’ve never been a parent.”

  She gladly accepted his response, grateful that his feelings were so strong in that regard. “I didn’t think you were, but I thought I should mention it, in case it was possible.”