"A man… kidnapped you, and your husband and the sheriff went after him. They found you, but you were in very bad shape. I'm not surprised you don't remember."
"You're not?" Feeling ugly and out of place, she glanced at the doctor. "Do you have a brush so I can brush my hair? It looks a frightful mess."
"Of course." The doctor went out of the room again and brought back a brush for her. It matched the silver mirror. She looked at it for a long time. Everything he owned was expensive it would seem. He had to be a very good doctor to have so much.
"This is very pretty."
"Yes, it is." He watched her again. "It was my wife's."
"Oh, did something happen to her too?" Trish asked, seeing the faraway look in the doctor's eyes.
"Yes, she died some years back. The consumption, I'm afraid."
"I am sorry. Why are you staring at me?" Trish confronted him as he came closer.
"I'm sorry. It's rude to stare, isn't it?" The doctor looked away from her now.
"Yes, it's rude," she repeated. "I'm sorry for your loss."
He continued to study her.
She combed her hair, glancing at all the bruises on her face. "I don't feel so well," she said sadly as she put the brush down.
"That's all right. You just lie down and rest. You've been through a terrible experience." The doctor tucked her in and removed the tray. "I'll be back in to check on you soon," he assured her.
"Thank you." She drifted back to sleep
~*~
Gil Davis strolled up the street toward the doctor's office as the doctor opened the front door. Gil's stomach churned when he saw the doctor's face was twisted with worry.
"How is she this morning?" Gil asked, his voice thankfully even.
"She's better and yet… we have a problem."
Gil's face drained of color; he could feel it. "What's wrong?"
"She doesn't remember anything, not even you."
Gil's eyes widened. "It's… fixable isn't it, doc?"
"In time, maybe. I have very little experience with this sort of thing. I'm used to treating shock, of course, with the Indian raids and all, but this is quite different. She is intentionally shutting things out, as though she doesn't want to face them, can't face them."
Gil walked into his office and paced for a moment. "What are we gonna do, Doc?"
"We must give her time. She has a concussion, which could be causing it. If it is, she might come out of it in a day or two. And then again, it might take much longer. She remembers nothing. I don't think she even knows who she is."
Gil flopped into one of the chairs. "I hadn't seen this coming."
"It happens when a trauma like this occurs, especially when there is a concussion. She must rest as much as possible. Something triggering the memory might bring her out of this, but we must not intentionally shock her into remembering. It should come naturally. For the next week or two, she must be watched constantly. A concussion can do many things and cause all kinds of problems. She'll have to stay here for a few more days, I'm afraid. It's the only way to keep an eye on her. "
"What am I going to do in the meantime?" Gil jumped to his feet.
"You'll need to talk with her and be with her as often as you can to help bring back her memory. Like I said, it might come back in a day or two, or it might take some time. I've only had one other case similar to this, and she never came out of it. I had to commit her to a sanitarium up north."
"I can't take her with me?"
"That would be unwise at the moment as she doesn't know you yet. That could trigger other problems." The doctor searched his medicine cabinet and removed something. "She needs to heal, both on the outside and the inside. The mind is a funny thing. It automatically shuts out the things we cannot tolerate."
"I'll do everything I can to help her," Gil said. "Can I at least see her?"
"If she's awake, yes."
Gil turned the knob at the door, glanced over his shoulder at the doctor, and then went inside.
Slumped down, she looked tiny in the bed, but slowly her eyes came open. Her beautiful hair spread out over the pillow in waves. Even as beat up as she was, she was beautiful. It came from within her.
"Oh, who are you?" She gasped, grabbing the sheets and pulling them over her.
"I'm Gil Davis… I'm your husband," he said quietly.
"My husband? No-no…you must be mistaken. I'd know if I had a husband."
"Maybe so, but you look so much like my wife." He stared at her a moment.
"I'm… sorry." She sat up in the bed now.
"How are you feeling?" He came closer.
"Not so good. I must look a fright." She glanced around the room. Her eyes seemed unsteady.
"Can I get you something?" He stepped even closer.
"I'm just dizzy."
"Of course." He nodded and moved back a little. "Perhaps I should go."
"Do you have to?" she asked innocently. "Please stay and tell me of your wife."
Gil didn't know how to react. "My wife. Oh, well… her name is Trish, Trish Davis, and she is beautiful. She has lovely red hair like yours." He came closer.
She blushed. "I'm not lovely. I've looked in the mirror, and I'm quite ugly really. My lip is swollen, my cheeks bruised. I'm a mess. I don't know how it happened. Do you?"
Gil squirmed. How could he answer? "You don't remember?"
"N-no. I don't." She started to smile, but then grabbed her cheek from the pain the smile inflicted.
"I'm sure it will come back to you in time," Gil tried to reassure her.
"It's strange that I can't remember. I feel as though I were run over by a train." She chuckled. "And now I don't know who I am, where I came from, or how this happened to me. It's a very uncomfortable feeling."
"Give yourself some time. You've been through a lot," Gil whispered.
"Have I?" She picked up the mirror once more and looked at herself..
"Yes."
"You are a very handsome man. I hope you find your wife."
"So do I, sweet lady. So do I." He walked to the door. "I'll come visit again, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind. I like the company." She looked about her. "I-I feel so lost."
"Then I'll be back this afternoon. Perhaps we could talk."
"That would be lovely." She gave him a glance once more.
Gil closed the door and flopped back against the wall. He stood there in the hallway for a moment.
"I'm afraid you are as shocked of her condition as she is." The doctor came walking through the hallway, and stopped to look at Gil.
"She asked me who I was, but I couldn't tell her, doc. She looks so preciously sweet, lying there in her innocence."
The doctor smiled. "I can see you love her dearly. I am sure that with your help, she'll pull out of this," he promised.
Gil walked into the living room, and shook his head. He wanted to help her, so badly. "May I come back this afternoon?"
"Of course you can, anytime. You have that right. And she'll come around, I'm sure of it."
"How can you be so sure, doc?" Gil asked, his brow furrowing into a frown.
"Because you love her enough to help her, that's how." He smiled and opened the front door for him. "Love can make the difference."
"Thanks for everything. How much do I owe you?"
"Let's wait a while and see how long this carries on first. I'm not unreasonable with my fees though, I can assure you of that."
"Believe me, Doc." Gil stared him in the eye. "Whatever you charge, if you can get her back on her feet, it's worth it."
The doc nodded, "I wish all my patients felt that way."
Gil walked back to the hotel, his mind reeling with the problems this would create. She didn't know who she was, she didn't know she wasn't married to him either. What would she expect when she finally accepted him as her husband? He rubbed his face as he entered the hotel lobby and walked quietly up to his room.
And how could he tell her the tr
uth in this condition?
Chapter Nineteen
Two weeks went by, and Trish recuperated at the doctor's. She felt rested, her bruises were disappearing. She had asked questions about her bruises and how she got them but was still was unable to remember. A few things had come back, where she was from her name.
Gil was excited about her coming home.
He kissed her lightly on the forehead and went into the other room. She missed him. The feeling was strange. Why did she miss him, he just stepped out of the room, didn't he? She accepted that she was married to Gil now but wondered if they had a good marriage. She knew she was terribly attracted to him, trusted him, and wanted him. What more was there than that?
Still, something in the back of her mind niggled. Why wouldn't she remember such a man as Gil Davis?
The doc told her that sometimes something could happen or something she saw or felt or smelled would begin to bring it back. She could remember everything in one day, or just bits and pieces. She felt uneasy. Why couldn't she remember things?
But she was ready to go home now and the doc tried to prepare them both for the ordeal.
She was just outside her room when she heard the doc talking.
"Give her time to heal, on the inside. Sometimes things that happen to us are so bad, in our thoughts, that we don't want to remember. Eventually, she will remember, and you may never know what causes it to happen. So be patient with her. She's been through a trauma and she'll remember when she is ready to remember," the doc explained.
"I can't thank you enough, Doc," Gil said.
She was standing by the window when Gil walked into her room. She was used to Gil now, but she didn't remember their marriage so it made it awkward.
"We are going home to the hotel now, Trish."
She smiled at him brightly. "All right. I'm packed."
"Good. Are you ready to leave here?" He asked hesitantly, as he adjust his bolero tie.
She nodded swallowing a lump in her throat.. "Yes, but, please… I know you say we are married, but I don't understand why I can't remember anything. You've been so kind I want to remember. I can't imagine blocking such a wonderful person out of my thoughts." She struggled to make him understand as she put her hand on his arm. "Did we have a big wedding? Do I have a family, a mother or father?"
He came closer and took her hand in his. "We didn't have a big wedding. And your family doesn't live around here. I understand how confusing this must be to you. But the doctor didn't want me to just blurt everything out to you. It might be too confusing for you."
"You are so patient with me…" She touched his arm.
He cleared his throat, and took her arm "Let me get your baggage. I have a buggy outside waiting for you."
In the front office, Trish paused and hugged the doctor to her. "Thank you for everything. You've been so kind. You've taken such good care of me. How can I repay you?"
"I'm just glad you are better." The doctor patted her hand. "One day it will all fit into place, just be patient and don't try so hard. It will come."
"Can you be patient with me?" She asked as he lifted her to the buggy.
"Believe me, I want you well first. I want you to relax and quit worrying." Gil said as she took her seat beside him.
"Why do we live in a hotel?" she asked as they rode through the hot sweltering heat.
~*~
"I'm a gambler, remember?" He cast her a quick glance, his gaze resting on her for a moment.
"A gambler… Sounds so exciting. Yes, I remember you telling me about that. You aren't just a gambler, but a professional gambler." Her eyes shone for the first time since the incident. Gil felt an elation right in the heart.
"And what do I do? I mean, I won't have a house to clean, nor I guess children to take care of."
"No, we have no children… yet," he added with a slight smile. "But you join me at the tables each night and touch my hand and smile and try to enjoy the game. You used to love to watch the games."
"I'm sure I would enjoy that. It sounds exciting." She looked about the town as though she'd never seen it before.. "What town is this?"
"Fort Worth, Texas." He dodged another horse in the street.
At the hotel, the porter came to take their luggage. A man came out to her. "So good to see you again, Mrs. Davis."
She stared at him. "Do I know you?"
"I doubt you remember me. I'm just the desk clerk here at the hotel," he explained.
"Oh, of course." She glanced at Gil. "It's nice to see you too."
As Gil guided her to their room, she took in the beautiful surroundings with awe.
"My, we stay at the best… it looks like." She gestured at the grandeur of the place.
"Yes, most of the time, we do…"
"My husband must be an excellent gambler." She sighed heavily.
Gil glanced at her and wished he could make her feel more at ease, but there were bound to be some bumpy times.
He unlocked the door and let her enter first.
She gasped at the expensive curtains on the wall, the fine furnishings, and the shiny floors.
"This must cost a fortune." Trish turned to look at him.
She had the innocence of a child inside her now and Gil saw her as more of an innocent child.
"It's a hefty fee, but we can afford it. You see, Trish, you bring me luck at the tables."
"Do I?" She smiled brightly. "Then I am a very dutiful wife."
He cleared his throat. "Yes, well, we'll talk about that later, honey. Right now I want you to get comfortable with your surroundings and relax. Not too much excitement for the first few days."
She looked at him strangely. "I am comfortable. I feel like I must have died and gone to heaven. I never expected anything like this. I must have been extremely happy here with you."
How was he going to explain their situation? He couldn't. Not now. He had to gently break things to her for now. No sudden shocks, the doctor said.
"When you are well enough, you can join me at the tables," he explained.
"I'm fine. I feel much better, and I see no reason at all why I shouldn't join you at the tables tonight." When he frowned, she came up to him. "I get so bored staring at the walls around me."
He took her hand. "I don't want to push you. But if you'd like, that would be wonderful. It's just you've been through so much."
"Have I?" Her eyes clouded. "Maybe it's a blessing I don't remember." She laughed for a second.
"Trish, under the circumstances, with your memory gone, I think it best that we don't sleep together just yet." He blurted, then took her hands into his. He didn't know why he had to clarify that so soon, but it just slipped out. It had been on his mind all morning, and he wanted to lay down the parameters.
Her eyes clouded again. "Oh, my, but I'm your wife. Why wouldn't we?"
"It's just I don't want to force anything on you. You need more time to recover," he encouraged as delicately as he could.
"I see."
But she didn't see, that much was plain. She took it as some kind of affront. She took it that he didn't love her. And the one thing he realized through this was that he did love her, very much. But he couldn't touch her like this.
"Trish, it's best this way. Trust me…"
She stared into his eyes, a tear shining into his. "The one thing I do know is that I trust you."
The way she said that, the way she looked into his eyes made him want her all the more.
"Then please listen and do as I say about this. I know what is best for you right now. I don't want anything to hurt you again."
She leaned toward him, and before he knew what she was doing, she kissed him softly on the lips. Taken by surprise, he could do nothing but kiss her back. He only meant to brush his lips against hers and move away, but he was swept up in the moment and all his senses took over. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her back with everything within him. His heart pounded. His happiness was complete with her. The kiss was soft, s
weet and he craved much more. Somehow, he reigned in his control.
She pulled away. "At least your kisses say you want me." She breathed against him.
He swallowed hard. "Honey, of course I do, but the doc wants us to go slow."
"What on earth for? You're my husband," she murmured. "You've helped take care of me, paid the doctor and brought me here to this beautiful hotel. It's the nicest place I've seen. I wasn't expecting anything so grand. I want to celebrate, be with you."
Yes, that was the problem, he wasn't her husband, and he couldn't confess that now, not in her state.
He moved away. "I'm trying to protect you."
"I obviously love you, and you love me, so what's so wrong?" She neared him once more.
He knew what was wrong. He knew if he took the advantage now, she'd blame him later when she regained her memory. He couldn't.
"There's nothing wrong with it, honey. Nothing at all, but when something like this happens to you, well…"
"I don't even know what happened to me. All I know is that I was hurt somehow. I'm better now. I've come home, to you. Isn't it better now?"
"Of course it is. But it's your lack of memory, Trish. Until you get your memory back, we need to slow down. Can you understand that?"
"No, but like I said. I trust you." She smiled, tiptoed to kiss his cheek, and moved away. "So I'll be patient. As you have been with me."
More than anything in the world, he wanted to pull her into his arms again, make love to her, and make her realize just how much he did love her. But he couldn't take the advantage now. His hands were tied. She had to get her memory back, or they would never have a real relationship.
He told himself all these things, to make himself seek the control he needed. He told himself he didn't need to hold her, kiss her, and make love to her. But he did!
Even his body said otherwise.
The more she trusted, the more he fought his own urges.
"So we won't sleep together?" She pouted.
"No, honey, not yet."
"Can I come to the tables with you tonight?" she asked. The rejection obviously hurt her more than he imagined.
Winning the Lady (Book 4 of the Red River Valley Brides) Page 13
