REMEMBER ME (Secrets of Spirit Creek Book 1)

by Linda Style

“And where’s your place from here?”

  “Not far. About ten minutes. When you live in the mountains you measure distance by how long it takes to get there.”

  They parked at the side of the purple house. The door opened and two golden retrievers bounded out from the veranda and ran toward them. A slight woman with long, curly red hair stood in the doorway, and another taller person stood behind her, but he couldn’t tell if it was a man or woman.

  Tori practically leaped out of the SUV, then squatted as the dogs, one larger than the other, ran up to her, barking and wagging. Linc started to get out before he realized he couldn’t. The crutches were within reach, but the doc had told him to give his arm a little more time to heal before he used the crutches. So he sat there and watched Tori laugh and play with her animals.

  Watching them, his chest tightened. Starting to choke up, he took a quick breath. Yes. He’d had a dog. He didn’t know what kind of dog, or how old he was when he’d had it. Yet somehow, he knew in his heart he’d had one.

  He closed his eyes and tried to draw up some kind of memory. Nothing. Seeing Tori play so lovingly with her animals had touched something in him, an emotion he couldn’t describe. He hadn’t felt anything like it since he’d awakened in the hospital.

  He smiled, watching her. She seemed totally at ease now, and her laughter made him feel good, made him think of how naturally pretty she was.

  The redhead and a taller, dark-haired woman walked toward the car. Tori stood. They talked, looked at him, then turned away and talked some more. As she spoke, Tori’s hands waved in the air and the dogs kept hovering around her legs. Nice long legs. Legs he suddenly imagined wrapped around him. He started to sweat. Damn. He had to stop fantasizing. Had to get a grip. Or maybe get laid.

  Yeah, like that was going to happen. He had to do something to stop thinking about it. He glanced at the women. Okay. That wasn’t going to take his mind off it either. All three were hot.

  Now they were looking over at him again, then they talked some more, looked again, talked again. They were talking about him…had to be. Tori explaining, maybe. He’d have to ask what her story was, what she planned to tell people so they could be on the same page.

  Noticing the keys were in the ignition, he reached over, turned on the engine, then pushed the button to open a window. The unmistakable scent of pine permeated the crisp mountain air. He sucked it up like a thirsty man finding an oasis in the desert.

  Suddenly both dogs turned to him and started barking. Tori walked over and opened the back door.

  Her friends sauntered over to Linc’s window and Tori came around to join them. “Linc, meet my best friends, Serena Matlock and Natalia Sokolof.” And to them, “This is Lincoln Crusoe, the friend from college I told you about.”

  Serena extended a hand. “Nice to meet you, Lincoln.”

  He shook her hand. “It’s Linc. And it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  Natalia reached out then, but her narrowed gaze immediately put him on guard. “Hello,” she said.

  Smiling dutifully, he shook her hand. After the introductions, the three women quietly exchanged looks, then moved away again. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the body language said her friends were skeptical. In fact, there were so many looks back and forth, he felt like a zoo animal on display. “Uh, excuse me, ladies. Is it possible to get a drink of water?”

  The redhead—Serena—said, “Oh, sure.” Then all three women went into the café. The retrievers waited outside the door like guard dogs.

  Tori eventually came out with two bottles of water, and within five minutes she’d loaded the dogs in the back and they were on the road again.

  Both animals lay on the seat with their big dark eyes riveted on him, poised to pounce if he made a move. He turned, tried staring them down, but got no response. “I think I’m in deep trouble here,” he said to Tori.

  She looked over. “What’s the problem?”

  “Your dogs. I think they want to eat me.”

  She snorted, then laughed out loud. “Yeah, probably. They get hungry about this time every day.”

  “I’m serious. Are they always this protective?”

  Nodding, she said, “Pretty much. I trained them that way.”

  He’d been teasing, but couldn’t tell if she was. She was certainly in a better mood now. “They’re not going to attack me in my sleep or anything, are they?”

  “That depends.” A slow grin curved the corners of her mouth.

  “On what?”

  “On whether you seem threatening or not.”

  He glanced at the dogs again. The big one growled. “Well, right now, I don’t think I want to trust their judgment on that.”

  She grinned. “They’ll take their cue from me. Besides, they sleep in my room, and I keep the door locked.”

  Was she trying to tell him something? If she was, that was one area in which he didn’t think he’d be easily discouraged. He liked Tori. A lot. He wanted to get to know her…be more than just friends. In fact, he was getting turned on just thinking about her…in bed…not too far away from him.

  Except for the dogs.

  “They’re just checking you out,” Tori said. “If I like you, they’ll like you. Go ahead and pet them.”

  He gave the dogs another glance. Both were immaculately groomed, their long golden hair shiny enough to be in a shampoo commercial, and with their heads resting on their front paws and big soulful eyes looking up at him, he was tempted. Almost. “Right now, I’ll take your word for it.”

  They exchanged a laugh, and he might’ve heard her say “chicken,” under her breath. Fine with him. He still had all his fingers. “So, what do your friends think?” he said. “What do they think of you taking in a virtual stranger?”

  “Well, to be honest…they think I’m a little whacked.” She kept her eyes on the road.

  He glanced over. “Hey, they could be right, you know. I can’t even vouch for myself.”

  “I can vouch for you,” she said, her voice as certain and steady as her hands on the steering wheel.

  Her sincerity warmed him. She had more trust in him than he did himself. “So now what?”

  “Now nothing.”

  “You don’t care what your friends think?”

  “Sure, I care. And I respect what they have to say.” She gave a quick glance his way. “But it’s my life.” Her eyes back on the road, she lifted her chin. “I’ve learned people will think what they want, anyway.”

  The super casual way she said it seemed almost forced. He wasn’t sure he heard a whole lot of conviction in her words, either. More like she was convincing herself as well as him. “Interesting viewpoint, especially since you live in a small town.”

  Her jaw tensed, her grip tightened on the wheel. Had he hit a nerve? Not something he intended or wanted to do, but he was curious. “You never did answer my question. The one about why you’re doing this.”

  Looking straight ahead, a few moments passed and it didn’t seem she was going to give him an answer. But then she said, “I know I didn’t. And you know what?” She turned and looked at him dead on, the tiniest grin forming. “I’m not going to.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  IN THE SPACE of one conversation with her friends, Tori decided she didn’t owe anyone an explanation. Not her friends, her parents, Gordon, not anyone. Not even Linc. Yes, she owed him an explanation for some things in the past, but she certainly didn’t need to explain why she was helping him. She was a friend. That was good enough as far as she was concerned.

  There were more important things to focus on. Lots of things. She’d decided earlier to give herself a timetable. If Linc hadn’t remembered by the time he was able to be on his own, that’s when she’d tell him. She couldn’t keep the truth from him forever, even if he never remembered. But he needed to be whole again physically, so at least he wouldn’t have that to deal with.

  “And here we are,” she said, turning onto the winding road to h
er home. She drove up to the gate, hit her remote and drove inside the gated area.

  Linc glanced toward the house, then scanned the yard. Bruno barked, and on cue, Cleo barked, too.

  “I think they’re glad to be home,” Linc said.

  “I am, too.” She pulled into the garage.

  “Pretty nice place. Your art must sell well.”

  Her grandfather’s trust had paid for the house and the quarterly dividends more than paid her expenses. What she earned from any paintings she sold, or from doing other kinds of artwork, was extra. But all she said was, “It does.” Then she got out and opened the back of the vehicle to let the dogs out to run. She took the wheelchair from the back and brought it to him. He’d already opened the door, “I think it’ll be fairly easy for you to get around here. The floors are wood and tile, and there’s plenty of space to move around.

  “I don’t need help,” Linc said, his words brooking no argument.

  “Fine.” On that note, she went into the hallway that led to the kitchen. After flipping on all the lights, she scanned the room to see where it might be difficult for Linc to maneuver with his wheelchair. The travertine floors would be fine, but the step from the garage into the house would be an obstacle. “I’ll be right back,” she called out, then quickly ran through the house, removing every photograph of herself that might resemble what she looked like twelve years ago.

  Hurrying back, she found a piece of plywood in the garage and propped it up with a concrete block against the threshold. Satisfied, she went inside without watching Linc, because if she did, she knew it would be hard not to help.

  Moments later, standing at the center island catching her breath, she heard a whirring sound behind her. She swung around.

  “Thanks for the runway,” Linc said. “Worked pretty well.”

  She sat on the leather bar stool. “Good. I’ll have to make sure it’s stable, though.”

  “It’s fine.” He glanced around. “Nice digs.”

  “Thanks.” She’d put a lot of thought into her home. “Having lived in a museum most of my life, I wanted something a little…less stuffy.”

  “I take it you grew up with the proverbial silver spoon?”

  “Something like that,” she said. “But my parents and I couldn’t be more different.” Sometimes it was hard to imagine they were from the same family. She stood. “I’ll make some coffee if you’d like. Or tea? Or would you rather have a cold drink?”

  His eyes lit. “A cold beer would be great. I don’t know for sure, but I imagine it’s been a while since I had one.”

  “Beer it is. Sounds good to me, too.” She was about to get one when Linc pushed a button on the arm of his chair and it spun around in her direction.

  Eyes wide, he laughed. “Hey, how about that. Fancy stuff.”

  “Very. Better be careful. That chair has controls on the controls. Push enough of them and you might wind up in another dimension.”

  His smile faded a little. “If it’s better than this one, I might be happy.”

  In his situation, she’d probably be feeling the same way. But it wouldn’t be productive for her to commiserate. “Maybe. But this is what you’ve got, and if you want things to get better, you’re going to have to work at them.”

  He gave her a puzzled look.

  “What? It’s the truth.”

  “You’re right. You’re absolutely right.” He pushed the button again and came toward her. “Let me get the beer.”

  Thank you, God. One tiny bit of progress in what looked to be a very difficult recovery. It wasn’t climbing Machu Picchu, but it was a step. “Okay. And when we’re done with that, I’ll get you acquainted with the rest of the house.”

  When he opened the fridge, she peeked over his shoulder. “Hmm. Not much food, is there? I’ll have to go out tomorrow and pick up a few things. I can take the dogs along if you’d prefer, or you can come along…or stay here. Whatever you’d like. Also, just so you know, I’ve contracted for some work to be done on the wall surrounding my property, so there’ll be someone here off and on.” And she was babbling like an idiot.

  He pulled out two beers and looked at the label. “Never heard of this before,” he said.

  “Oak Creek Nut Brown Ale. It’s a craft beer, one of my favorites,” she said, digging out the opener while Linc motored the bottles to the table instead of the high counter. “I bought it at the Oak Creek Brewing Company.” She went to the cabinet for beer glasses then sat at the table while Linc opened the bottles. For some reason her heartbeat raced a mile a minute.

  “I feel like a little kid,” Linc said suddenly. “I have no memory and yet I thought of Bud Lite when thinking about having one. On the other hand, I have no idea what a craft beer is.”

  “I’m sorry. I should probably explain things…but I really don’t know what to explain and what not to.”

  He poured the beer. “It’s fine. Nothing to stress about. If I need something explained, I’ll ask. How’s that?”

  She picked up a glass, raised it in a salute. “It’s perfect.”

  They clinked glasses and she took a sip while Linc downed half a glass.

  “Delicious. And I don’t have to remember anything to know that.”

  They both savored another long drink, emptying the glass, and then he asked, “Will the handyman wonder who I am?” He examined the controls on his chair, pushed a button, and at the same time moved the handle, which spun the chair around in a circle twice as fast as before.

  “He might. I’ll let him know.”

  “What will you say?”

  She shrugged. “That you’re an old friend from school recovering from an accident and I invited you here to do it. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

  Linc shrugged, but he looked pleased. What did he expect? That she’d say he was just released from prison? Her friends knew, but that’s where it ended.

  “So,” he said. “Let’s get started. Tell me everything I need to know about the house.”

  An hour later, after showing him how to work all the appliances and electronics and helping him navigate over steps and lumpy rugs, which she subsequently removed, and giving him instructions on the alarm system that he couldn’t reach, she felt as if she’d been through a war. Lastly, she had him follow her down the hall.

  Stopping at the first door, she said, “This is the guest room. And fortunately, there’s not much furniture to dodge.” Turning, she saw him struggling to get over the red-and-black Navajo area rug. When the chair wouldn’t move, he grabbed the leg of a heavy metal table next to him and pulled so hard, the wheelchair tipped sideways.

  Tori lunged forward, reached out and caught him in the nick of time, but in righting the chair, she lost her balance and landed on his lap with an “Oof!” Their eyes met. Her pulse skyrocketed.

  “Oh, geez! I’m so sorry,” she said, scrambling to get up. “Did I hurt you?”

  He gave a slow grin. “Not at all. In fact, I was kinda liking it.”

  Her blood rushed as she bent down and yanked the offending rug out of the way. Damn thing! Damn him! Damn this whole idea of hers that might be way more difficult than she’d imagined.

  She strode to the bed, sat on the edge and shoved her hair out of her eyes. Except for his bandaged leg and one less than perfect arm, he was in really good shape, so she hadn’t realized it would be so hard for him to do simple, normal things. But almost everything seemed a struggle.

  “So, what’s next?”

  “I need a minute to think.”

  “Think about what?”

  She let out a long breath, suddenly tired. She stood, looked at him. “About what I can do to make things easier. It seems hard for you to—”

  “I can manage. You don’t need to worry about anything.”

  “I know you want to do things yourself, but—”

  “But what?” he shot back. “But I can’t?”

  She recognized the defense mechanism immediately. Anger was one way to avoi
d dealing with the real issues. She knew because she’d used the same tactic for a very long time. But seeing him grapple with the reality of his injuries—injuries that he thought made him a lesser man, or less of a man than he thought he’d been—made her sympathetic in a way she couldn’t define. And that, of course, was the last thing he wanted to hear. “I was going to say, I’d feel terrible if anything happened.”

  “Nothing is going to happen,” he mumbled.

  “Really? What if I wasn’t around and you’d tipped over just then and couldn’t get up and get to the phone? What if you had other problems and no one was here to help?”

  “So what?”

  She moved to stand in front of him so he’d look at her. “So, a lot. I want to help if I can.”

  “That’s the problem. You’re doing all this stuff and I have no way to repay you.”

  “Okay, I get that. But there’s something you have to get, too. First of all, I’d do the same for any of my friends. Acquaintances even. I’m not giving you any special treatment I wouldn’t give someone else.”

  Nothing.

  “All I thought was that I could change some things around to make it easier for you. But more importantly, I brought you here and I’d feel responsible if something happened. Is it possible for you to think about anyone’s feelings but your own?”

  He winced, closed his eyes for a moment, then turned away to look out the window.

  Shit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put it that way. I’m just trying to help you, Linc. And apparently, I don’t know how.”

  They were both silent for what seemed the longest time. Then he said, “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I seem to be doing everything wrong, including alienating the one person who wants to help me.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Do whatever you want to do.”

  She drew a deep breath. “Okay. I think we’re both tired. It’s been a long, eventful day. How about we have a bite to eat and call it a day?”

  His head came up. “Okay, but first I have to know something.”

  His dead-serious tone took Tori aback. She chewed her lower lip. “What’s that?”