Returning Home

by Karen Whiddon

  RETURNING HOME

  Karen Whiddon

  Copyright © 1998 by Karen Whiddon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To my father, Charles Corcoran— though we live miles apart, you are never far from my heart.

  Chapter One

  Sunset, like winter, came late to the dusty plains of the Texas Panhandle. In early July, even at dusk, heat still shimmered up from the pavement, making fleeting mirages ahead on the highway.

  Hope Glidewell was coming back... and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. How easy it would be to continue on past Dalhart, the little town where she’d grown up. She could head northwest to Colorado, for a welcome vacation amid the pine trees and snowcapped mountains. Most folks did keep on driving, seeing Dalhart only through the dust they raised.

  Hope found herself wishing she were one of them. It had been a long time since she’d traveled Highway 87, a long time since she’d left here for the bright lights of Dallas. The town looked much the same.

  Silver grain silos gleamed in the unrelenting sun, and rusting farm machinery sat forgotten in dry fields. Herds of white-faced brown cattle drifted through the fields, flicking their tails in the unrelenting wind.

  Dalhart. Where Jeff still lived. The thought came unbidden, although he was the reason she was returning after all these years. She and Jeff had been inseparable during high school. They’d planned a life together far away from here. College, a football scholarship for him and hard work for her, then careers for both of them, and then marriage. And children. A boy and a girl.

  Thinking of this filled her with a hollow ache. How silly, how pointless, it all seemed now. Their daughter would be nine now—if she’d lived. Even after so many years, the memory still ripped Hope apart She would probably never have any more children, not ever again.

  Hope made a left past the train tracks, her heart thudding in anticipation and dread.

  A few weeks before graduation, she’d found out the truth from Jeff, found out that he had lied. That was when she’d come to hate Dalhart with a restless, angry passion, all because of him.

  Before the ink had dried on her diploma, she’d left town, never thinking she would return. Even her parents had retired and moved to the Texas coast. There was no reason to come back.

  Then his sister Charlene had called. Charlene was her former best friend.

  The sparse pinon trees, permanently bent by the force of the wind, seemed to echo her loneliness. She didn’t belong here now. She never would again.

  Welcome home, she thought. Blink once and you’ll miss it. Swinging past the bank on Denver Avenue, Hope turned into her old neighborhood, feeling as if she’d somehow gone back in time.

  She pulled up in front of Jeff’s old house, the one he’d grown up in. Since their mother had died, Charlene lived there alone.

  Heart in her throat, Hope killed the engine. Almost as soon as the air conditioning went off, she could feel the heat. She took several deep gulps of air, trying to bolster her nerve, part of her amused at the irony of it all. She, Hope Glidewell, elementary school teacher, shaking in her boots at the idea of running into her old high school boyfriend.

  Even if Dalhart hadn’t changed, surely Jeff had. She’d tried, without much success, to picture him balding, his once athletic body with a pot belly. It didn’t seem possible.

  She had a choice, she told herself. She could still leave. Turn the key in the ignition, make a U-turn in the middle of the street, and hightail it back to Dallas.

  Then the front door opened, a tall man with broad shoulders and a mane of thick golden hair appeared on the porch, and the choice was taken from her.

  Jeff

  Knees quaking, Hope got out of the car. The sun shone in her eyes, coloring him in glowing light. She shaded her eyes with her hand and stared. From the shadows of the porch, he stared back.

  The years had been kind to him, she thought inanely. Heaven help her, the man on the porch looked as handsome as ever. He still had the same full head of sandy hair, hair that she’d once loved to thread her fingers through. He looked tan, fit, and virile. He was healthy. He was whole. He looked more like a movie star than ever. Could Charlene possibly have lied?

  He moved forward. She stood frozen, one clenched hand gripping the top of her open car door. Moving with that same lanky stride she remembered, he came towards her. As he got closer, she realized something was wrong, something that gave truth to his sister’s desperate phone call.

  When he stopped five feet away, Hope looked into his eyes and tried not to cry.

  Exuberant, full of life and laughter, Jeff’s eyes had always perfectly mirrored his mood. Whether he was happy, sad, furious, or in love, she had always been able to tell in an instant, merely from his deep green eyes.

  But not now.

  Meeting his gaze, she saw no spark of recognition, no animation, and no emotion. His eyes were blank, the eyes of a man with no past, no future, and nothing but the present

  A man with no memory.

  “Jeff?” Forcing his name out through cracked lips, Hope felt an impossible swell of emotion. It filled her throat, making it difficult to speak. “Jeff?” she said again, her voice breaking.

  At the sound of his name, he stopped, a mere six feet from her. Staring her down as if she were an opponent on the football field, he cocked his head. “Do I know you?”

  His words felt like knives, sharp and wounding. Jeff didn’t recognize her. Charlene had not lied.

  Hope shook her head, startled to realize that her hands were shaking. Emotion clogged her throat, making it impossible to speak.

  “Do I know you?” he repeated, irritation making his deep voice husky. He moved closer, the sheer breadth and height of him intimidating.

  Hope took a step back.

  “There you are!” Jeff’s twin sister came bursting out the front door. She, too, seemed unchanged by time, her eyes the same green, the same curly mass of golden hair tumbling down her back, nearly to her waist “Let me look at you! I wondered when you would arrive.”

  After a fierce hug, Charlene drew back to study Hope.

  Hope allowed herself a faint smile, trying not to show her relief, her confusion. “Well, it took a little over six hours from Dallas. ’’ She reached for a suitcase with one hand, staggering under the weight.

  “Let me.” Suddenly, Jeff was there, his elbow brushing hers, his large, tanned hand closing over the suitcase handle, his fingers touching hers.

  He seemed to feel nothing.

  That, she reminded herself firmly, was all in the past.

  “Thanks, Jeff!” Her smile overly bright, Charlene gestured towards the house. “If you would put the bags in the guest bedroom, I’d appreciate it.”

  Both women watched silently as Jeff hefted the weight of the suitcases and turned towards the house.

  “Come on in.” Charlene led the way up the steps. Hope followed reluctantly.

  The house was cool and dry. They had central air now, a welcome change. They’d opened windows and used box fans when Hope had been here last “Thanks so much for coming.” Blowing a wayward strand of golden hair out of her eyes, Charlene attempted to smile. She failed miserably. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

  Hope glanced around the tidy room that evoked so many memories, and shrugged. “To be honest with you, I have my doubts.”

  Charlene’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, honey. You might be his last chance.”

  “But surely the doctors—”

  “The doctors said to give it time.” Charlene made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “It’s been two mo
nths. The insurance company has settled and the hardware store needs to be rebuilt. I’ve started the process, but without Jeff...”

  “Rebuilt?” Hope remembered there had been a fire, but she hadn’t realized the store had been destroyed.

  “The store burned to the ground. We’re lucky Jeff managed to crawl out. Otherwise ...” Again, Charlene let her words trail off, staring into the distance. Stark pain showed for a moment in her tanned face, so like her brother’s; then she visibly collected herself. “You must be tired. Let me show you to your room.”

  Keeping her expression tranquil, Hope nodded and followed Charlene.

  The guest bedroom also seemed untouched by time. There was a new comforter, white and floral, and new curtains, but the furniture and the decor had not changed. Hope felt her cheeks heat as she eyed the bed, remembering a sultry summer afternoon in this very room so long ago. His parents gone and his sister working, Hope and Jeff had been left alone. His honeyed words and hot kisses had been too sweet for her to resist.

  They’d made love for the first time in this very room.

  Hope shook her head, realizing Charlene was speaking.

  “Make the house your own. The refrigerator is fully stocked, clean towels are in the cabinet in the hall. Anything you need, if you can’t find it, find me. Have you eaten?”

  Still in a daze, Hope patted her stomach. “I’m more tired than hungry. I think I’d like to rest a little.”

  She glanced at her watch. It was barely eight- thirty. She had packed the newest thriller, as well as a slew of romances she’d been meaning to read throughout the school year. If anything, summertime was her time to relax. If, she thought wryly, relaxing would be possible around Jeff.

  “See you in the morning, then.” Sounding more hopeful than she had since Hope arrived, Charlene gave her a quick hug. “Tomorrow we have to talk to Jeff."

  Something in the way she said those words worried Hope. “Talk to Jeff?”

  Charlene ducked her head and looked, heaven help her, embarrassed. “You know,” her voice wavered, “we have to tell him about you.”

  Oh, no. Hope’s heart sank. “You mean you haven’t—”

  “Not yet.” With a guilty sort of smile, Charlene wrung her hands. “I didn’t know exactly how.”

  “So he doesn’t even know who I am.” It was not a question.

  “Or why you’re here.”

  Hope groaned. “I knew I should have spent this summer down in Corpus Christi with mom and dad.”

  “The coast is lovely,” Charlene agreed. “I’m sorry, really, I am. I simply thought it would be better if we told him together. Otherwise—”

  When she didn’t finish, Hope finished for her. “Otherwise he might not have wanted me to come.”

  “Exactly.” Jeff’s sister looked so relieved that Hope couldn’t help but smile. “You do understand, don’t you?”

  She understood, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “It must be difficult, dealing with this.”

  “Yes, it is.” Charlene leaned close, meeting Hope’s gaze earnestly. “I just want my brother back.”

  “I know,” Hope sighed. After all, that was the reason she had come here. “We’ll talk to him in the morning.”

  Closing the door, Hope lay back on the bed, fully clothed. From the moment she’d arrived here, she’d known this was a huge mistake. The sooner she helped Jeff remember who he was, the sooner she could head home.

  The sun, startlingly bright, woke Hope early. At first, not certain where she was, she allowed herself to linger in bed, dozing. The sheets felt cool and crisp, the morning light was warm, and comforting, and she could smell the faint, tantalizing scent of brewing coffee.

  Stretching, she sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and realized where she was. Dalhart Jeff.

  She groaned. Right now, before she faced anybody, she needed a shower. Then a cup or two of strong coffee and a bagel. Maybe then she would feel up to telling Jeff the scheme his sister had cooked up.

  She wondered how he would take it

  The Jeff of the old days would have laughed it off. He would have slung a careless arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for a lingering kiss. With a quick flex of his hand, he would have promised her a world of delights, later, when they were alone.

  Damn, she had to stop thinking like this. The Jeff of the old days was gone forever. Even that Jeff, the bold, cocky boy who’d sworn he would always love her, had turned out to be a sham.

  Because thinking seemed hazardous around this place, Hope jumped out of bed. Barefoot, she padded on the worn carpet to the bathroom, grabbing a couple of plush towels from the closet on the way. The bathroom door was partially open, the light was on, and she counted herself lucky that no one was in the hall. Avoiding Jeff and his blank stare had become her number one priority, at least until she had no choice.

  Heart pounding, ridiculously out of proportion to the situation, Hope slipped into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. Leaning against it, she took several deep breaths, willing herself to be calm. For the tenth time, she wondered what on earth had possessed her to agree to come here. Suddenly she remembered the desperate pain in Charlene’s voice, plus the prospect of another lonely summer stretched out before her, and she knew.

  An hour later, showered and feeling relatively human again, despite the lack of caffeine, Hope put on her favorite faded T-shirt and shorts and forced herself to head towards the kitchen. The desire for coffee nearly canceled the desire to avoid Charlene and Jeff.

  As she’d expected, Charlene was seated at the fifties- style, metal and Formica kitchen table. Jeff, Hope noticed with relief, was nowhere in sight

  “He’s outside,” Charlene blurted, coloring prettily. “I’m sorry.” She glanced down at her coffee cup. “I meant to say good morning first.”

  “Good morning.” Some people, Hope thought, never changed. Charlene wore her vivid mass of hair, still thick and lustrous, pulled back in a carefree ponytail as she always had. Even her long cotton skirt turquoise and pink, seemed vaguely familiar. The only thing different about the self-assured, friendly woman, was the look of desperation in her eyes.

  Remembering Charlene’s request to make herself at home, Hope got a cup of coffee and a bran muffin. Her unease must have shown in her face, and Charlene smiled faintly.

  “Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

  Hope had her doubts about that. “I guess it can’t be avoided, can it?”

  Before Charlene could answer, the back door opened and Jeff came in. He wore faded jeans that fit him like a second skin and an equally worn T-shirt Tall, muscular, and radiating strength, Jeff was the picture of health. Hope found herself doubting his illness again. Then she met his eyes—his hollow, empty eyes—and her heart sank.

  “Mornin’, ladies.” His husky voice sounded polite, disinterested. He moved past them, moving, Hope noticed, with the self-assured stride of a man at home in his body.

  “Jeff,” Charlene chirped.

  “Uh-huh?” Not even the faintest hint of curiosity shone in his face. There was nothing but polite inquiry.

  Swallowing, Charlene’s gaze darted from Hope to Jeff, then back again. “Have a seat. Hope and I need to talk to you.”

  His gaze touched on Hope, just enough to send a shiver up her spine. Silently, he pulled out a chair from the table, turned it around, and straddled it “Is everything all right?” Jeff asked, resting his chin on the back of the chair. His mane of golden hair was longer now, and it curled softly at his collar. His shoulders were broader, if that were possible, though his muscular arms still had the same deep tan.

  Hesitating, Charlene nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about Hope.”

  Jeff swung his head around to study her. Again, the impact of his green eyes struck Hope like a blow to the stomach. She forced herself not to show any outward reaction, giving him a faint smile instead. He frowned. “Are you in trouble?”

  Darting a look at Charlene, Hope shoo
k her head. “No.”

  “Then what is it?” Jeff’s tone was impersonal. There was no hint of impatience, interest, or anything to color his deep voice.

  “You don’t remember Hope, do you?”

  Jeff didn’t answer, and merely continued to watch them with the same polite stare. Hope supposed an answer wasn’t really necessary.

  Charlene swallowed again, then took a long drink of her coffee. “You used to know Hope, a long time ago.”

  Hope felt her face heat, but refused to look away. Finally, Jeff broke the gaze, glancing at the window, then back at his sister. “Go on.”

  “Hope?” Charlene touched Hope’s arm. Her fingers felt like ice.

  If it weren’t for the desperate pain in Jeff’s sister’s face, Hope wouldn’t have been able to speak. As it was, she had no choice but to help Charlene out “Jeff ... we were very special to each other.” Hope’s voice broke. She took a deep breath, then went on. “We were high school sweethearts, homecoming King and Queen, quarterback and head cheerleader, all of that” Her words tumbled over each other in her rush to get them said. “Charlene thought I might be able to help you regain your, um, memory, so she called me and asked me to come.” “She dropped everything and came,” Charlene put in, her eager tone reflected in the brightness of her eyes. “Hope is going to spend a month with me, visiting. Maybe this will help.”

  “Maybe.” His flat tone held no belief that it would. Despite her resolve, Hope found herself reaching out, touching the corded muscle of his big arm. “It’s worth a try,” she said softly.

  “Please,” Charlene echoed, clenching her ceramic coffee cup so hard that Hope began to fear it would break.

  Jeff moved his arm, pushing himself up from the table in a quick athletic movement. Jamming his hands into his pockets, he glowered at Hope. “I don’t remember you.” His voice sounded rough, fierce. “I think you’re wasting your time.”

  That was exactly what Hope felt, and she nodded. “Maybe I am—” she began.

  “No!” Charlene slammed her cup down onto the table. Coffee sloshed out over her hand. She ignored it, pinning both Hope and her brother with a commanding glare. “Listen to me, both of you.”