by Rita Hogan
She stared at the bright screen for a moment. A set of numbers flashed across her mind. She entered them—zero, eight, one, two, zero, three. She nearly gasped in surprise when the password screen clicked off and all the apps to her phone appeared.
Brooke held it up to Landon for him to see that she had accessed the contents. Staring at the glowing light, she felt angry all of sudden. Her anger stemmed from frustration. She let the phone slip from her hand and onto the bed before walking to the window, trying to hold back the raw emotions.
She could hear Landon approaching. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“How is it possible that I can remember numbers and historical facts? Why am I able to remember how to work a camera and what nine times twelve is, but I can’t remember people that may have been important to me or places I’ve been?”
“It is a conundrum,” Landon sympathized.
Brooke looked at him, almost smiling. “And how come I know what that silly-sounding word means?”
Landon couldn’t help but chuckle. “It is a silly-sounding word, isn’t it?”
His response was successful in pulling a meager smile from her lips.
He reached for her hand to lead her to the bed where the phone lay. While he retrieved the device, she wondered at the feel of his hand on hers. The contact felt intimate even though he was only being kind. What had been her thoughts about Landon in the week they had known each other? While in the hospital, when the pain had begun to ease, she had been fully aware of how handsome he was. His warm hazel eyes were kind and concerned. The few times he smiled caused her heart to soften at the dimples that appeared on his cheeks. Had she always appreciated a man with dimples?
The slight squeeze of his hand reminded her of what she needed to do. He held out the phone to Brooke. When she accepted it, he sat with her on the bed, suggesting that she check to see if there were any contacts listed.
Brooke re-entered the password. When the apps came up, she chose the contact icon. One name appeared—Melissa Clark.
She looked at Landon, with anticipation in her eyes. Brooke clicked on the call button and then pressed the speaker phone so he could hear.
After four rings, they heard a voicemail message. The moment Brooke heard the British accent, she suspected it wasn’t a relative. “Hello, you’ve reached Melissa Clark, of the Ice Project. I’m on the other side of the world in the Antarctic with limited access to phone service. Please leave your name and number. I’ll return your call as soon as possible. Thank you, and have a great day.”
Brooke stared at the phone in dismay. When it beeped, Landon reached for it to disconnect the call. He sat the device down before reaching for her hand. She looked at his strong long fingers gently covering her smaller ones. Her only contact in life was an unreachable woman.
Unable to look at Landon, she said, “How lonely or terrible of a person must I be to have only one name in my contact information?” No matter how forlorn she felt, Brooke fought the depression that threatened to overtake her.
Landon let go of her hand and reached for her chin, tenderly encouraging her to meet his gaze. “The Brooke Johnson I know is far from terrible. You are kind, charming, and,” he paused, “wonderful. We were only getting to know one another. You never said outright, but I gathered that your parents are no longer alive. I sensed that some great sorrow caused you to be alone. Someday you’ll remember everything.”
Faced with the prospect of remembering a sad and painful existence brought a new kind of fear to Brooke’s soul. “What if I remember only to discover it is too much to bear?” she asked, searching Landon’s eyes.
He brushed the side of her cheek with his thumb, the sensation causing Brooke’s breath to catch. “I will help you deal with whatever has broken your heart, if you’ll let me. If for some reason you never remember, I will help you build a new life. I’ll give you happy memories to replace the ones you have lost.”
The promises he made were monumental, more than she could ask of a complete stranger. Yet, sitting in the quiet elegant room of his Grand Vue suite, savoring the gentle touch of his hand on her face, Brooke couldn’t resist the hope he offered.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When Natasha arrived at ten-thirty to bring Brooke’s and Landon’s belongings from The Absolution, Brooke was asleep. The siblings spoke for a few minutes. Because of the hour, his sister didn’t stay long. When she left, he sat in his reading chair, exhausted but too wound up emotionally to sleep.
Thoughts of the commitment he made to Brooke earlier that afternoon filled his mind. There was no taking back the words. Landon had felt an overwhelming sense of compassion for her as she sat staring at her phone, knowing she really was alone.
He had believed all these years that there was nothing left of himself to give to another woman. Landon knew it would be selfish for him to take and not reciprocate in kind. Thinking back to their last night on board The Absolution, he fully intended to leave the next day and avoid Brooke at all cost. Providence, fate, or whatever one wished to call it had charted a different course.
It went against his nature to allow her to flounder alone during her time of need with little or no help. Landon sighed. Who was he kidding? His promise to Brooke did not stem from a sense of duty or honor. He wanted the woman who had emblazoned a trail of love and desire across his heart. He was convinced that within her lay hope and a promise for a full life—the kind of life he hadn’t dared to dream of having.
* * *
Brooke stood over Landon, watching him. He had fallen asleep in a chair. She was filled with an overpowering sense of tenderness for the gracious man who had taken such good care of her the past few days.
How tired must he have been to have spent the entire night in the oversized chair. Something spoke to her of the possibility that he, too, longed for someone to take care of him, physically and emotionally. Like the whisper of a dream, something about Landon called to her. When he looked at her, she read the need that filled his eyes. Why she was able to feel so certain or why she yearned to be the one to satisfy the longings of his soul was a conundrum.
Smiling at the word Landon had used the day before, she cradled his hand in hers. “Landon?”
He felt the sensation of her touch, before he heard her words. When he opened his eyes and saw Brooke kneeling before him, he thought he was dreaming, something he often did, here lately.
Remembering her injury, he sat up quickly. “How are you feeling?”
She gave him a reassuring smile. “When I first woke up, it felt like a jack hammer was pounding on my head. I took some of the medicine before lying back down for a little while longer. Now it only feels like a hummingbird’s wings are beating against my temples.”
The imagery she used to convey the intensity of her pain did the job of relieving Landon of his concern.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting.”
Standing from the kneeling position she was in, Brooke reached out her hand to help Landon up from the chair. “It will get better. I’m concerned about you, though, sleeping in this chair all night. Do you have time to lie back down for a while in order to get some real sleep?”
Landon glanced at the clock as he stood to his feet. “I’m fine. It’s nothing a nice hot shower won’t cure.”
“I saw the kitchen—very nice, by the way; do you have breakfast essentials in there? I can make something for you while you shower.”
“I don’t cook. I order from the kitchen. Besides if I did have food, I’m not letting you lift a finger; doctor’s orders.”
Brooke smiled at him. “He said no over-exerting myself. Cooking a simple breakfast is hardly a taxing activity, and I need something to do. So how about we order room service and then shop for groceries later?”
“You said on the ship you don’t cook.”
She looked puzzled for a moment as if she were searching the files in her mind to validate what he was saying. “Well, that’s strange. I can visualize how to
fry an egg, but I think you’re right. I see dishes in my mind, like lasagna, but I can’t recall how to make them.” She looked at Landon. “But how hard can it be, right?”
He wasn’t so sure. “If you promise not to overdo anything, put together a list of things you would like and I’ll have someone take care of them. Tomorrow, we can go for a brief walk outside and see how you do.”
“That sounds fine. How about you tell me what you want to eat and I’ll order while you shower?”
Smiling, he told her his choices before disappearing into his bedroom.
After placing the order, she searched the internet with her phone to look up a few recipes and made her list. She added foods that flooded her mind, things she suspected were her favorites, like strawberries and chocolate. At one point, she dropped the pen she was holding in frustration. It was very strange to write all the food items she probably loved, but not remember a single thing about her life.
The doctor had told her that her personality would be the same as it was before the accident. The vast majority of retrograde amnesia patients were the same person; this was confirmed by their loved ones. Brooke had no loved ones to confirm who she was. She remembered Landon’s words yesterday afternoon about her being kind and charming. He had also said she was wonderful. The thought brought warmth to her face and a smile to her lips.
“Such a beautiful smile,” Landon said as he entered the living area and saw her sitting at the table.
Brooke’s face felt even warmer from his compliment. “Thank you. Yours isn’t too shabby either; you have the best dimples.”
“Ah, the cursed dimples,” he said with mock exasperation as he sat down in a chair beside her.
“What’s wrong with them? I think they make your already handsome face even more attractive.”
Landon looked at her for a moment. He was touched by how she viewed him and that she seemed comfortable with his person, a virtual stranger in her new world. His hope was that someday she would feel more than merely comfortable.
“Thank you.” There was a gracious tone to his words. To lighten the mood, he added, “The cursed part is because of all the people who couldn’t resist pinching my cheeks when I was kid. Even Natasha couldn’t help herself. Thankfully, she’s either outgrown the dreadful habit, or has managed to suppress the urge.”
Laughing, Brooke reached out as if she were going to pinch his cheek, but instead touched the slight crease. “I can see how tempting it is.”
He caught her hand in his. “You, young lady, can pinch my cheeks any time.”
“Really! And why am I honored with such a privilege?”
“Because, you’re special.” The soft light in his eyes grew warmer.
The words he spoke were simple. Yet their impact marked her, settling somewhere deep inside.
The doorbell rang. Landon let go of her hand to open the door to the room service waiter.
“Good morning, Mr. Gray.”
“Good morning, Rodolpho. How are you?”
“Fine, sir,” the employee replied as he made his way to the dining room.
When he saw Brooke he nodded with a polite smile. “Good morning,” she greeted.
Landon sat down in his seat and introduced the server to Brooke.
“It’s a pleasure meeting you.” The polite response was made while he finished placing the last of the items from the cart onto the table. “If you need anything else, sir, madam, please let me know.”
“Thank you,” they both said simultaneously.
When the door closed behind him, Brooke focused on Landon. “Do all of your employees speak such good English?”
Ravenous, Landon dug into his breakfast of eggs, toast, and fruit. Only after swallowing his bite did he respond. “Only the ones who directly serve the customers are required to speak English. Housekeeping, maintenance, and the kitchen staff are exempt. You should have seen Gaston his first several months trying to communicate to his team.” He paused at the puzzled look on her face.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m sorry; I forgot you only know Gaston as my brother-in-law.”
Landon spent the remainder of their breakfast giving Brooke a detailed account of their interaction beginning with the night he took her to Dragonfly. She laughed at the re-telling of his brother-in-law’s prejudices against Irish cooking, but felt a tinge of chagrin when he told her about the joke she had played on the chef the first day of the cruise.
“I can’t believe I told him I was Irish.”
He noticed the light crimson stain of a blush touching her neck and cheeks. “It seems to bother you that you told an untruth even in jest.” It was statement, not a question.
“I guess it does, but I know it wasn’t intended to harm.”
Landon gave her a look she couldn’t quite read. Nonetheless, she felt reassured by his words. “It’s an indication of your character. You value truth and honesty. I imagine loyalty and commitment are also part of your virtues.”
“I know I feel very strongly about those things.”
He smiled at her. “It is good to feel strongly about such values.” Landon changed subjects. “Did you have a chance to look at some of the pictures on your phone?” Shortly after showing Brooke her room, he had left her alone to rest. When he had knocked quietly on her door around dinner time, there was no answer. He assumed she had fallen asleep.
“I did see them.”
“And what did you think?”
“I can’t believe they are mine,” was her humble response.
“I guess that means you like your own work. The ones you showed me from your tablet are wonderful.” He stood and walked toward the door to retrieve the items his sister had brought from The Absolution the night before, explaining to Brooke what they were. Uncomfortable with looking through her belongings, he handed her the bags. “One of these contains your device with some pictures of Beaverhead Rock. Does it ring a bell?”
Brooke shook her head.
“Look for it so you can see them,” he suggested.
Eager to see more of the photos she had taken, she began looking through the bags. In a few short minutes, she had her camera, an array of photography supplies, and an electronic tablet strewn out on the large table.
She reached for the electronic device. It, too, was password protected. She entered the same set of numbers used to gain access to her phone and smiled when the screen clicked and the apps appeared.
Still smiling, she looked up at Landon. “Perhaps ‘efficient’ can be added to the list of my virtues.”
“You seemed so to me as I watched you working on the ship. Here,” he said, patting the chair next to him, “come sit by me and I’ll tell you what you told me about the pictures of Beaverhead Rock.”
Brooke sat next to him and found the file labeled photos. There was a sub folder labeled Beaverhead Rock. When she opened it, the first picture to appear on the screen was the one she had taken of the lightning strike. “Wow!” she exclaimed. She looked at Landon, “I really took this? I can’t believe it.”
“You’re a very talented woman. You definitely have a skill for finding the right way to shoot a scene. I researched your work before I offered you the job with The Absolution, and I have been impressed with everything you’ve shown me.” Landon told Brooke about the week she had spent at Beaverhead Rock waiting for this picture and how gratified she had been when this photo was taken.
“I found it fascinating that you never offered the picture up for sale.”
“I didn’t?” Brook was surprised, for the amazing shot could have brought in a sizable income.
Landon shook his head. “No, you had it printed on a large canvas and it is hanging in your home. When I asked if you sold the picture, you became serious all of a sudden. I think the picture was too important to you personally to share with the world. Something you captured in the photo struck you in a special way. However, you did sell some of the other photos you took that week to a calendar company, even one o
f the pebble pictures you took.”
Brooked laughed. “Did I? That’s great.”
“I’m sure you have more files on there and also your laptop that you’re eager to see. I have to meet with my vice president at ten this morning. Since leaving you alone isn’t an option, he’ll come here to my apartment. We’ll be in the office so we don’t disturb you.”
“There’s no need for you to be holed up in your office. Feel free to work at the table, where it is roomier and with a better view. I can do my research in the living room.”
“Thank you, it can get a little cramped in there. When I’m done meeting with Tomas, if you’re up to it, we can go down to the café for lunch and look at the photos you’ve taken of The Absolution.” He explained the business deal they had arranged.
“That was very generous of you, Landon. I’m sure I enjoyed the cruise. Will you tell me all about it later?”
“Of course.” Standing, he added, “Let me help you with your things.”
* * *
An hour later, the doorbell rang. “Tomas,” Landon greeted. “Come inside and let me introduce you to Brooke.”
Tomas Prieto was the vice president of NLG Property Group’s South America Division. He had been in the position almost since the time Landon took over the business.
Brooke was seated on the couch working on her laptop when he arrived. Setting down the computer, she stood to greet Landon’s colleague.
“Tomas, this is Brooke. Brooke, this is Tomas.”
The vice president took the hand she offered, holding on to it a little longer than normal. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. What a joy to meet such a beautiful woman this early in the morning.”
Landon saw a blush appear on Brooke’s cheek and would later wonder at her shyness toward male attention. Secretly, he was pleased to see that she seemed uncomfortable with genuine male appreciation.
“Thank you. You are very kind.” When she was finished with her greeting, she looked at Landon rather than his vice president.
“I hope you don’t mind, Brooke, but while we were at the hospital I had to settle my work load with Tomas and explained to him about your accident.”
