Montana Mail-Order Wife

by Charlotte Douglas

  “I don’t understand,” Rachel said. “Why didn’t I just walk out on him?”

  Lacy gazed at her with sympathy in his eyes. “You truly don’t remember, do you? Raymond Reid was a horrible man with a violent temper. You feared for your life.”

  “Why didn’t she—or you, for that matter—report him to the police?” Wade asked.

  “Ray was not only greedy and power hungry, he was extremely intelligent,” the lawyer said. “His threats against Jennifer were never direct, always insinuations. Nothing overt enough to justify a restraining order. I guess you could say he practiced psychological terrorism.”

  Rachel winced at the anger suffusing Wade’s face. She’d never seen him so enraged, not even the time Jordan had burned his timber.

  “So you just let Rach—Jennifer suffer?” Wade looked like he wanted to smash something.

  “On the contrary,” Lacy said, obviously unperturbed by Wade’s controlled fury. “Jennifer and I had a plan, one in which she would file for divorce and disappear to a place where Ray would never find her.”

  “So I did divorce him,” Rachel said with a sigh of relief.

  “No,” Lacy said. “Ray died before we could activate our plan.”

  Emotionally exhausted, Rachel slumped in her chair. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember the events or circumstances her attorney described.

  “How did Ray die?” Wade asked again.

  A terrifying possibility presented itself, and Rachel sat bolt upright. “Oh, my God, I didn’t…?”

  “No, you didn’t harm him.” Lacy rose from the desk, circled to the front and perched on the edge.

  Wade reached across the space between their chairs and grasped her hand. She appreciated the reassuring warmth of his grip, the one element that seemed real in a world gone topsy-turvy. She never wanted to let him go.

  “You and Ray were on vacation in the Cayman Islands last December,” the attorney continued. “Ray insisted on scuba diving, even though he’d had too much to drink. You never liked boats, so you returned to the hotel. Divers found Ray’s body the next day.”

  “That was December,” she said. “What did I do for the last six months, before the train wreck?”

  “There were hundreds of details to attend to,” the lawyer said. “Funeral arrangements, executing Ray’s will, putting this house on the market…”

  Rachel smiled for the first time since Harold Lacy had begun his story. “I knew I wouldn’t keep this place.”

  “Where was Rachel going when her train crashed?” Wade asked.

  “Seattle,” Lacy explained. “She wanted to start a new life with a clean slate. Find her own identity after so many years under Ray’s thumb.”

  The whole story sounded to Rachel like someone else’s life. She couldn’t understand why she could remember up to a certain point and no further. She felt the encouraging pressure of Wade’s grip, and her heart soared with happiness. She was free to love him now. Free to marry.

  But not into a “strictly business” arrangement. She’d already made one bad marriage. She wouldn’t repeat her mistake. She wouldn’t marry another man who didn’t love her. If she was to marry Wade, she had to be one hundred percent certain of his love. She thought Wade loved her, but she had to be sure.

  “Maybe we should call Dr. Sinclair now,” Wade suggested.

  “Just a few more details first, please.” The attorney opened his briefcase and removed a few items. “I obtained a new copy of your driver’s license and other identification, and here are your new credit cards and checkbook. If you have any questions, give me a call.”

  Instinctively, Rachel stood and hugged the old man, who was the closest thing she had to a relative. “Thank you, Uncle Harold.”

  “Ah,” he said with a satisfied smile, returning her embrace, “that you do remember.” He turned to Wade. “I appreciate all you’ve done for Jennifer, and especially extending your visit while she gets her bearings again.”

  Wade’s gaze met hers. His eyes were filled with unspoken promises. “I’ll do whatever I can to make her happy.”

  Rachel and Wade showed the attorney out, and when she closed the door behind him, she silently echoed his appreciation of Wade Garrett.

  She didn’t want to think about what life would be like when Wade returned to Montana and she was left in the gargantuan house all alone.

  WADE FOUND RACHEL on the terrace later that afternoon, flipping through the pages of the album Mr. Lacy had put together to stir her memories.

  “Remember anything more?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “But at least since talking with Dr. Sinclair, I understand why not.”

  “You finally got hold of her?”

  Rachel nodded. “She thinks the block on that portion of my memories comes from the emotional trauma I suffered, first from Ray’s abuse, then from the horror of the train wreck.”

  Wade still hadn’t come down from the elated high he’d experienced when he’d learned that she was free. Free to love him. Free to marry him. He wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her forever. She deserved better, especially after the terrible years she’d spent with Raymond Reid. But he realized, too, how emotionally vulnerable she was right now, still struggling to retrieve the remainder of her history before the train wreck. He didn’t want to spook her by making love to her if she wasn’t ready. “Did the doctor say whether you will ever get those memories back?”

  “Dr. Sinclair says I’m guarding my emotions because subconsciously I’m afraid of being hurt again. If I ever feel safe enough to allow myself to feel things deeply once more, the memories will probably return.”

  Her hair glinted with highlights of gold in the afternoon sun, and Wade remembered when he’d first seen her, with her golden hair the color of his palomino and eyes the hue of spring leaves. He’d learned much more about her since. She had an inexhaustible capacity for love, as she’d demonstrated with Jordan. She had courage and tenacity, and refused to allow any adversity to keep her down. She might not remember her life with Ray Reid—and from the oppressiveness of it, that was probably just as well—but somewhere along the line, she had learned some hard lessons and revitalized her self-esteem.

  “In the meantime,” Wade suggested, “I suggest we give Marie the night off and get out of this mausoleum.”

  “You won’t get any protests from me.”

  “I’ve been doing some investigating this afternoon. Not too far from here, down by the river, there’s a fish camp famous for their fried catfish, hush puppies, juke box and dance floor. Want to give it a try?”

  Her glorious smile rewarded him for all the calls he’d made to discover the fish place. “Absolutely. But only if you’ll let me buy.”

  “You may be a millionaire, Ms. Reid, but I have a grub stake of my own. This is my treat.”

  Her sunny laughter rang across the marble stones of the terrace. “It’s a deal.”

  He felt like whooping with joy. Only this morning, he had been anxious to leave Memphis. He hadn’t wanted to meet the mysterious Raymond Reid, and he damned well hadn’t wanted to prolong the agony of parting from Rachel.

  Things had happened too fast the past few days for him to have much time to think. First the sleeper fire, then Crutchfield’s return and the discovery of Rachel’s identity.

  Wade hadn’t had time to dwell on the fact that when he’d shared Maggie’s story with Rachel, her acceptance and understanding had melted the glacier that had encased his heart since his wife’s death. Now he was free to love again. And he did. He loved Rachel, aka Jennifer Reid, with all his heart and soul. The only problem would be convincing her, after his cockeyed proposal of marriage, that his love was genuine and not some crazy business scheme.

  He grinned with a smile that filled him right down to his boots. He’d always loved a challenge. He fully intended to take Rachel with him when he returned to Montana.

  Grabbing her hand, he tugged her toward the front of the h
ouse, where he’d parked the rental car. “We don’t have to wait for suppertime. I don’t get back East often, so I’d like to do some sightseeing. You game?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m up for anything that will get me out of this house.”

  HOURS LATER, after Wade had driven the rental car back up the driveway of the Reid mansion, Rachel stepped out of the car and stood staring at the star-studded sky. A cool breeze, laden with the scent of magnolia blossoms, blew in from the Mississippi. Only the rustle of leaves and the plaintive call of a whippoorwill broke the midnight silence. Only one more thing was needed, Rachel thought, to make the night perfect. She wanted to make love with Wade, to sleep with him, to wake up the next morning to see his face on the pillow beside her.

  “This has been the happiest day of my life,” she said. “I can’t remember ever having so much fun.”

  Wade joined her and draped his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t remember ever eating so much or dancing so long. I had a great time.”

  She had never laughed so long or felt so completely at ease with a man. It was as if she’d known Wade Garrett all her life. “I don’t want it to end.”

  He turned her to face him, dark passion glowing in his eyes. “It doesn’t have to.”

  “But you’re going back to Montana tomorrow—”

  “Come with me.”

  Her heart jumped with longing. To return to the land she’d come to treasure, to the child she’d learned to cherish, with the man she’d fallen desperately in love with was too much to hope for.

  “I couldn’t.”

  Her quick objection surprised her until she realized she feared committing herself to marriage before her other memories returned. She also had to be certain Wade loved her as much as she hoped he did. As much as she wanted to return to the ranch with him, she knew she needed time. Time to make sure she didn’t make another mistake.

  “Mr. Lacy can take care of things for you here—”

  “It isn’t that.”

  His mahogany-colored eyes glowed with heat, even in the darkness. “If you’re worried that I still want you as some kind of business partner…”

  She pulled away from him, afraid of being swayed by his nearness. “We should go inside to discuss this.”

  Heading toward the front door, she suddenly remembered the one place on the property she had felt was her own space. “Follow me.”

  Skirting the building, she opened an iron gate to a flagstone pathway that edged the side of the house. At the rear of the mansion, the path continued deep into the formal garden. The walkway was dimly lit, but her memory now was strong. She could have navigated her way in total darkness.

  She stopped in front of a screen-enclosed gazebo, hidden from the house by a grove of trees. “We can talk in here. This was my private spot. Ray never came here.”

  Wade followed her up the steps into the octagonal room. She switched on a table lamp and gazed around in satisfaction. Someone—Marie?—had kept the gazebo spotlessly clean and just as she had left it. Deep wicker chairs filled with overstuffed cushions were grouped before a fireplace. The room was filled with potted ferns, palms and weeping fig trees, like a desert oasis.

  She scrabbled in the drawer of a table, found matches and lighted scented candles on the low table before the sofa and on the mantel. With the flick of a switch, soft music issued from a hidden sound system.

  Wade pulled her into his arms. “May I have this dance—for the rest of my life?”

  “Won’t your feet get tired?” she teased.

  “Not as long as you’re in my arms.”

  She clung to him, inhaling his male, earthy scent, while every objection to returning to Montana with him flew from her mind. As they danced, he pulled her closer, until her body molded to his. She could feel his heat, how much he wanted her, even through layers of clothing.

  “God, I love you, Rachel.” His breath warmed her ear. “Say you’ll marry me.”

  Leaning back in his arms, she glimpsed the passion glowing in his eyes. Before she could respond to his proposal, his mouth covered hers, and the cool night air seemed to explode around them, as if ignited by fire. He devoured her with kisses, explored her mouth with his tongue, nipped her neck with his teeth.

  They sank to the Oriental carpet that covered the gazebo floor. He lifted his hands to the buttons on her shirt, then paused. “Let me make love to you.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Please.”

  With a haste that was almost humorous, they pushed their clothes aside. She shuddered with desire when he caressed her with his large, strong hands, electrifying every nerve he grazed. His lips followed where his hands had touched. She didn’t have all her memories, but she knew without doubt no one had ever moved her as Wade Garrett did now.

  Her earlier reservations vanished like mist beneath the sun. She wanted him with an intensity that surprised and pleased her. One look into his striking eyes, and she knew they belonged together. His eager expression, his hungry mouth, his persuasive hands told her he cherished her.

  Passion numbed her consciousness until she could only think how much she wanted him. He drew her against his body, and the contact of their naked flesh caused years of repressed desire to burst free.

  This man who had cared for her through the trauma of amnesia while allowing her to keep her self-respect, meant the world to her. As she ran her fingers through his hair and gazed into his eyes, she wanted to give him as much as he’d given her. She drew a teasing finger down his cheek to the pulse throbbing in his neck, and tugged him closer. He dipped his head, nuzzled her ear, and she quivered with longing.

  “Now,” she begged.

  “Ah, Rachel,” he whispered against her lips, “I could never refuse you anything.”

  With swift tenderness, he pressed her to the carpet and lowered himself atop her. She gasped with delight when he entered her. Her heart leaped, faltered, then matched the pulsing rhythm of his body as he moved with her.

  Her ecstasy heightened as she glimpsed the stark and sensuous passion on his face. Bonded with him, their bodies glistening with perspiration, she felt as if they were flying, rising higher and higher, until the stars shone below them and the magnolia-scented air seemed too rare to breathe. His cry at climax melded with hers, a crescendo of consummate pleasure.

  Sated, he settled beside her and drew her into the crook of his arm. She snuggled against him as if she’d always belonged there.

  “I love you, Rachel. I always will.”

  She gazed into his dark eyes with complete happiness. “I love you, too.”

  “Maybe now you’ll answer my question.”

  She pretended confusion. “What question is that?”

  Without warning, a myriad memories suddenly opened up, lurching one atop the other, sucking her into a vortex of unhappy and terrifying recollections. She cried out, as if in pain.

  Alarmed, Wade sat up and pulled her to him. “What’s wrong?”

  She struggled to breathe, suffocated by the weight of memories she’d rather forget. Every miserable second she’d spent as Ray’s wife whirled through her brain, battering her with the pain and unhappiness she’d suffered through the years. She’d never been allowed to make a decision, express an opinion, to choose her own friends. Her entire life had been regimented to Ray’s plan, an agenda that she was forced to follow to the letter or suffer horrible verbal and emotional abuse. She had been Ray’s wife. Her own identity had been erased in the process. She didn’t know who she really was.

  For the first time in her life, she had opened herself fully to someone, unleashed her emotions and, as a result, freed her repressed memories.

  “I remember,” she said, when she was finally able to draw breath. “Everything.”

  She couldn’t stop trembling. Wade draped an afghan from the sofa around her and held her close, rocking her in his arms, smoothing her hair and whispering gentle encouragement in her ear.

  Slowly her breathing returned to normal a
nd her shivering eased. She rose from his arms and tugged on her clothes, unable to meet his gaze.

  He dressed quickly. Turning her toward him, he lifted her chin until she had to meet his eyes. A frown wrinkled his forehead and his expression was concerned. “You’re not sorry we…”

  She nodded sadly. “But only because I’ll know what I’m missing.”

  Alarm and bewilderment replaced the concern in his gaze. “What are you saying?”

  She took a deep breath and released it, buying time while she gathered her courage. “I can’t marry you, Wade.”

  “But you said you loved me.”

  She traced her fingers along the line of his jaw. “I do. I always will.”

  “Then why…”

  She sighed again and pulled away. Sinking into a chair, she clasped her hands in front of her. “Being married to Raymond Reid was a nightmare. I never developed my own identity, never learned what I wanted from life. Please try to understand. Even though all my memories have returned, I don’t know who I am. It wouldn’t be fair for me to marry you under those circumstances.”

  He knelt in front of her. “I’m willing to take that chance.”

  She smiled and ruffled his hair. “I’m not. Maggie hurt you terribly. I don’t want to be the one to hurt you again.”

  He stood and pulled her into his arms. She fought with every bit of self-control to keep from yielding to his embrace.

  “I need you, Rachel. Jordan needs you.”

  She shook her head sadly and pulled away. “I was on my way to start a new life in Seattle, to forge my own identity, when the train derailed. I still have to find myself before I make any lifetime commitments.”

  “Then you’re not saying you’ll never marry me?” His expression was hopeful.

  She felt as if her heart was shattering, but knew she was doing the right thing. “Don’t wait for me, Wade. You need someone to love you, and Jordan needs a mother.”

  A mixture of pain and anger flashed across his face before he turned on his heel and left the gazebo.