“Hey, maybe you bought it from a secondhand shop,” Noah suggested, trying to take the edge off her fear. “Perhaps your real name’s Tiffany and you’ve got a husband and three kids waiting for you back home.” A surge of sympathy washed over him as he eyed her troubled expression. “You really can’t remember anything at all?”
“Nothing,” Cheryl whispered. “Not a single thing.”
“Well, one thing we do know is that you’re not from Turning Point.” Noah gave a wry smile. “I’m sure I’d remember your face. Maybe you’re from Corpus Christi. That’s where the storm was due to hit. They’re evacuating residents here—”
“Corpus Christi?” She shook her head in bewilderment.
“Or maybe you’re here on business,” Noah suggested. “I had you pegged as a reporter when we met at the gas station.”
“Dressed in that? I don’t think so!” Cheryl exclaimed, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the floor. The flash of humor brought a welcome smile to both their lips.
“Maybe not,” Noah conceded. “Hey, you could be a doctor or a nurse. Mitch had a team sent in from California to help deal with the evacuees, and at the gas station you said you were here to look out for humans.”
“I said that! Why?”
Noah almost blushed, and was thankful Cheryl was too engrossed in her own problems to notice. “We had…words.”
“About?”
“I jumped the line, you were pissed off….”
“Oh, and that sounds like a nurse….”
Noah suppressed the smile that twitched at the edge of his lips. This difficult, wary woman was snarling and snapping like the dog she’d arrived with, but Noah knew that both of them were just plain scared.
“Still, that doesn’t explain the New York accent.” Noah kept his voice light, afraid that if she knew he was trying to assess her, she’d get her guard up. “Which part of the state are you from?”
“New Rochelle.” It was an immediate response, and he watched as she hugged her knees and clung to that tiny piece of knowledge.
“You’re a long way from home, then,” he said softly.
“On vacation perhaps?” Cheryl suggested hopefully. “Visiting relatives for a couple weeks?”
“I don’t know, Cheryl,” Noah admitted. “But one thing is for sure. This is temporary amnesia you’re suffering from.”
“Oh, and you know that for sure, do you.” Her voice was brittle but tears were brimming in her eyes. “I thought you said you were a vet.”
“Animals can get it, too, after a head injury,” Noah said, deliberately not taking offense at her argumentative tone. Behind the prickly façade, this woman was terrified. “And you’re right. Given that I’m not Dr. Doolittle, I can’t get verbal confirmation of my diagnosis, but take it from me, animals do get amnesia.”
He watched as she pleated the blanket, digesting the information he had given her. At last her troubled eyes looked up at him.
“So how do you know it’s only temporary? How can you be sure I’m not going to be stuck like this forever?”
“Because you make a lousy amnesiac.” Noah smiled, his casual tone halting the rising hysteria in her voice. “Because you said without thinking that you came from New Rochelle, because you’re still the same argumentative women I met a few hours ago. Now all we’ve got to do is wait until the rest of the jigsaw pieces fall into place.”
“Jigsaw?”
“A picture, cut up—”
“I know what a jigsaw is, thank you! I’m not completely stupid,” Cheryl replied indignantly. “It’s just…”
“Just what?” Noah asked. But when Cheryl shook her head, lay back on the pillow and stared at him with bewildered eyes, Noah knew she’d had enough. “You’re going to be okay,” he said softly but firmly, peeling the space blanket away and at the same time covering her with a soft, warm woolen one. He shook his head when Cheryl wrapped it around herself and tried to stand up.
“Lie down,” Noah ordered.
“I don’t want to lie down,” Cheryl argued, but Noah scooped her legs back onto the sofa and eased her firmly down.
“You’re not going anywhere in that condition. If you need something, then I’ll fetch it. For now, all I want you to do is lie here and rest, and bit by bit, the world is going to start coming back to you.”
“Promise?”
Where was the woman with the forked tongue and too much attitude? He’d have no trouble keeping her at bay. But seeing her like this, so scared and vulnerable, made him want to pull her into his arms and hold her through this nightmare.
“I promise,” he said.
“Sorry…” A tear spilled down her cheek and he watched her wince as the sting of the salt hit her scar. “Sorry for all the trouble.”
“Forget the thank-you’s and sorry’s for now. We could be stuck her for a while. Why don’t I go and get you something warm to drink?”
She nodded. “I’d kill for a bath.”
“Can’t do anything about that, I’m afraid. The power’s out, and anyway, you’re not well enough. How do you take it?”
“Take what?”
“Your coffee.” He gave a slow smile. “Silly question, huh?”
He could see the tears still filling those proud, dark eyes, and her full lips quivered. His first instinct was to go over, but he held back. Professional detachment was what she needed now, a chance to absorb all she had so recently been through and come to terms with her memory loss.
“I won’t be long.”
“Noah.”
The single world stopped him. He turned and stood in the doorway.
“Can I be the reporter, please? I mean, out of all of them, that’s the one I like the most.”
He got the reference instantly, and relief flooded him when he saw that despite her fear, her sense of humor was intact. Smiling, he shook his head.
“Sorry, this is my house, so it’s my fantasy. I’ve decided now that you’re a veterinary nurse, looking for work. A very competent veterinary nurse who also happens to be a whiz on Excel.”
“I can’t really see me delivering calves!”
“That’s my job.” Noah grinned. “But I guess you’re right. I can’t really see you hitting it off with Mabel.”
“Mabel?”
“I’ve got a highly stressed sow about to farrow.”
“I’m amnesiac, remember? In English, please.”
“A neurotic pig that’s about to go into labor.”
“Yuck!”
“I figured you’d say that.” Noah gave a mock groan.
“So can I be the reporter, then?”
Noah nodded, and was surprised to feel his throat tighten.
“You can be anything you want to be, Cheryl.”
“HEY, LITTLE GUY.” A wet nose pushed at Cheryl’s hand. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she dragged the dog onto her lap, smiling at the eager eyes that greeted her. But her smile wavered as she felt the emaciated body. She reached down for her flashlight and felt a wave of horror as the angry welts that littered his body came into focus.
“Here’s a warm drink.” Noah stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in hand, watching her play with the dog.
“He’s covered in welts….”
“He’s a she.”
“Poor thing. He—I mean, she—must have been hurt in the accident, maybe when the Jeep…” Her voice trailed off as she ran the beam of light over the quivering body once more. “These aren’t new injuries.”
Noah shook his head but didn’t elaborate.
“This is my dog?” Raking a hand through her damp hair, Cheryl blew out the breath she was holding. “You think that I did this?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Cheryl felt herself begin to panic. “The facts speak for themselves. This is my dog….”
“This is the dog that was in your Jeep, that’s the only fact we know.”
“Oh God….” A whimper of terr
or escaped her lips. “I’m lying here, praying things will come back to me, hoping I’ll remember who I am, and suddenly I’m wondering if I really want to know. What if I don’t like me very much?”
“Cheryl.” Noah’s voice was firm. “You’re jumping to conclusions here. The simple truth is, we don’t know what happened, don’t know what or who brought you to Turning Point.” Holding out a mug, he waited until she hesitantly took it. “But like it or not, we’re stuck here for the next few hours at the very least, so let’s not make assumptions. Sooner or later you’ll start to remember.”
She nodded, feeling lonely and dejected, drawing warmth from the mug of coffee in her hands. Noah sat on the sofa beside her, put the dog in his lap, and with one hand he skillfully, gently massaged the pup’s ears.
Cheryl took a sip of coffee, and an involuntary smile wobbled on her lips. She placed the mug on the coffee table, carefully avoiding the rabbit. “I think I remember something. I take sugar.”
“Maybe I just make really lousy coffee.” Noah sighed, reaching for the sugar bowl.
“I don’t want to be the kind of person who could do that, Noah.” She gestured to the injured dog nestled in his lap. “I don’t want to wake up from a dream and fall headfirst into a nightmare.”
Noah looked puzzled. “What dream?”
“This.” She looked around the room at the pictures clustered on every available surface, the flickering fire casting shadows along the walls, the ticking clock and this man who made her feel so safe. “The horse kind of ruins it, though,” Cheryl added, her tone lighter than she felt.
“How?”
“I think I must be obsessive-compulsive or something,” Cheryl said with a wry smile, “and as gorgeous as Georgina is, she kind of messes up the dream for me. I keep wondering if she’s about to leave us a ‘present.’ I just know that would drive me crazy. I know I like the towels hung straight, the label facing away, and I hate the way you stirred my coffee and put the spoon back into the sugar bowl, and I know that if my bag was here, I’d be heading for your bathroom and flossing and brushing my teeth about now.”
“I told you things would start coming back.”
She laughed at his enthusiasm, still reveling in the tiny glimpses she was receiving of her personality. “My name is Cheryl, I have a dark Jeep at the bottom of a river, and somehow I’ve become responsible for an abused black dog that I’m sure I’m not the owner of. It isn’t really a lot to go on.”
“It will do for now.” Without a second’s hesitation, he stood and placed the dog in her lap.
It was like being given a second chance. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes as she embraced the tiny creature. That Noah would trust her, accept her word that she hadn’t done this, meant more to Cheryl than she could say.
“There’s a storm brewing,” Noah said. “I should really check on the animals, and as for you…” He scooped up the rabbit in one easy motion. “How did you get out?” he scolded.
His eyes crinkled at the edges as he stared at her thoughtfully. “It’s not normally this crazy,” he said, gesturing to the rabbit and Georgina. “I didn’t want to leave them in the van but I didn’t have time to put them in their pens.”
“Can the dogs stay?” Cheryl asked, not quite ready to be alone yet.
Noah nodded. “Dogs aren’t work. They’re purely a pleasure. Try to get some rest, Cheryl. I’ll go and make sure the animals are all okay.”
“Can I help?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Then can I go…” She started to get up, but he put out his hand to stop her.
“Rest…sleep,” he murmured, tucking the blanket over her shoulders. “I’ll just be next door.”
Strange how safe those words made her feel, Cheryl thought. Strange that amidst all this confusion she could meekly lie back and let her eyes slowly close.
And even though she thought she’d be glad to see the back of Georgina, Cheryl kind of missed the little horse and her furry rabbit friend, missed that twitching nose and the magic she’d awoken to. Her eyes closed as she drifted toward a sleep she so desperately needed. And if she were honest, she had to admit that she also missed the man who was walking away, the man who’d created this haven. A man called Noah, who’d built an ark. A man who had pulled her from the raging river.
A man who had saved her life.
CHAPTER SIX
“GUESS WHAT?” At the whisper of warm breath on her cheek, Cheryl opened her eyes. A tired, kind face hovered above hers. “You can have that bath you wanted after all. There’s still a tank of warm water left. It’s not hot, but some of those scrapes of yours could use a good soak.”
“Scrapes?”
“Believe me, you’re covered.”
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Only half an hour. I should have let you rest, but I was doing a few dishes and found that the water’s still warm, so I’m running a bath for you. It might be your last chance for a while. Once you’re cleaned up, you can rest while I go and see to the animals. The weather’s really getting worse now.”
He wasn’t kidding. Despite the tape Noah had applied to the windows to prevent them from breaking, they were rattling like the windows of an old school bus bumping along a dirt road. The wind screamed relentlessly as it circled the house and skimmed over the roof, and Cheryl felt a knot of fear in her stomach. The panic she had felt on awakening after the accident started to rev even higher now.
“Shouldn’t we be doing something?” she asked. “Shouldn’t we be making preparations?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know,” Cheryl snapped, unable to suppress her growing anxiety. “I must have forgotten to bring my hurricane guide with me.”
“Lucky one of is up to date, then,” Noah said evenly. “There’s still a couple of hours to go before the hurricane is expected to hit, but you’re right—an old house isn’t the ideal place to hang out. So once you’ve had your bath we’ll move over to the clinic. It’s a newer building, built with this sort of weather in mind. We’ll be much safer there.”
That was enough incentive to get Cheryl moving.
“Ouch.” She winced as she sat up. “Are you sure they’re only scrapes?”
“Maybe a bath isn’t such a good idea,” Noah said.
Cheryl raised her hand in protest. “No way!” Lowering her feet to the floor, she decided that conversation might divert Noah’s attention from her weakened condition. She was determined to make it to that bathroom, and it wasn’t hot soapy water that was first on her list of priorities, but a rather more basic necessity.
“What do you have to do for the animals?”
“Make sure their water bowls are filled, put on a few CDs.”
A rabbit on the coffee table. A horse in the living room. The thought of Noah’s menagerie gathered around a CD player, listening to their favorite tunes, seemed perfectly normal at this point.
“Is that it?” Cheryl asked, refusing Noah’s arm and attempting to cross the room on legs that felt like cotton balls.
“That and put some heat lamps over Mabel’s pen for the piglets.”
“She’s had them?” Cheryl asked in a strangely high voice, beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead. The room was spinning like a merry-go-round and she clutched at the banister for support, willing the dizziness to pass.
“No.”
“So she’s in labor, then—I mean farrowing.” Cheryl hoped she sounded vaguely in control. Noah was climbing the stars behind her, like some overanxious parent watching a toddler. She was aware of his hand hovering at the small of her back, and Cheryl knew as sure as eggs were eggs that one stumble, one moan and he’d hoist her over his shoulder and carry her back to the couch.
“Not yet, but she soon will be. Hey, are you okay?”
She was anything but. “I’m fine,” Cheryl lied through gritted teeth. The top step was in sight now, but it might as well have been miles away. Her legs started to tremble viole
ntly and she willed them to move forward.
“Hey, take it easy….” In one easy motion, Noah hoisted her over his shoulder like some New York firefighter and Cheryl almost sobbed with frustration as he started to head back down the stairs.
“I need—”
“To lie down,” Noah finished for her. “You can forget the bath.”
“Noah, please,” Cheryl demanded, her senses returning, thanks to being upended. “I don’t care about the bath—but I do need to go to the toilet.”
In a second he had turned on his heel and was heading back up the stairs—no mean feat with one hundred twenty pounds over his shoulder in such a confined space.
“Why the hell didn’t you just say so?” he asked, depositing her in the bathroom.
When she was finished, she slowly made her way down the stairs, refusing his help.
“Sorry for not cluing in sooner,” Noah said, tucking her in. “I figured I’d thought of everything. I guess I’m just not used to dealing with humans.” He frowned. “Hell, you could have said something, though. Am I that much of an ogre?”
“No,” she admitted. “In fact, you’re so damn obliging I was terrified you might bring me some kitty litter so I wouldn’t have to take the stairs. Anyway, I’m fine now,” she added, “and I’m sorry if I scared you. You’d better go and fill up the water bowls for the animals.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “There’s a bit more to it than that.”
“Of course there is. I just don’t want to hold you up. I know you’re busy….”
“Don’t patronize me, Cheryl.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I haven’t slept in two days, I’ve been working my backside off getting things ready, and the last thing I need right now is to be reminded how little—”
“Hey, Noah,” she broke in firmly. “I’m sorry if I sounded critical or patronizing.”
“I know.” He gave her a tight smile but it didn’t quite reach his eyes “I’m sorry, it’s just…” He stopped himself then and shook his head, his expression grim.
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