“How about a computer then or a dictation machine?” He continued to smile at her as if he had a secret he was bursting to share with her.
While she would love a computer to look up information about herself, she didn’t think that’s what he was getting at. “Okay, you look like the cat who ate the canary. Why don’t you just tell me what this is about?”
“I just thought a romance author might have a reason to write.” He brought his hands forward and held out a book to her. The title True Love filled the top of the book and underneath was a couple who looked very much in love, but it was the bottom of the book that caught her eye. Tia Sweetchild.
“Is that… is that me? Is that my book?”
He turned the book around to show the back which held a description and an author’s photo. The woman on the back was blonde and had a perfect smile, but though she looked happy, her eyes contained a sadness. Had she not been happy? “It sure looks like you,” he said, “and I did some research on the author. She lives in California.”
“Where the rental agreement said I lived,” Tia said softly. She lifted her hand to touch the book hoping it would jog a piece of her memory, but when she touched the cover, she didn’t see a happy couple. Instead, she saw angry eyes. “What are you doing here?” With a gasp, she removed her hand.
“What? What is it?” Dr. Cavanaugh asked. Concern replaced the twinkling in his eyes.
“I saw something. A man, and he was furious. He asked me what I was doing there.” Tia shook her head slightly wishing she could pull more from her memory.
Dr. Cavanaugh set the book beside her and touched her arm. “Hey, that’s a start. We’ll start keeping track of what you remember. I’m sure it will all come back eventually. In the meantime, how about I take a look under the bandage and see how your head is healing.”
Tia nodded and let him peel the dressing from her head wondering how bad it was. A vague feeling of vanity passed through her. It was obvious from her nails and the car she had been driving that her appearance had been important to her. She supposed as an author she needed to at least be presentable, but she felt there was more to it than that. “What happened to the clothes I was wearing when I came in?”
“What?”
“The clothes I was wearing. I know I wasn’t wearing a hospital gown when I got in the wreck, so where are the clothes I was wearing?”
“Oh, um, I don’t know, but I’ll check for you. I was there though. At the accident. You were wearing a red designer suit and expensive-looking heels. I had to cut your shoes off. My guess is they cut your suit off when you arrived here.”
Designer clothes? Expensive heels? So, she must have money. She wished she could see the clothing to see if it opened any other shut doors in her memory. “Do they throw them away when they cut them off?”
“Sometimes. I’ll ask around for you and have Valerie bring them in if she finds them. The cut is looking better by the way. The stitches are holding.”
“Stitches? Will I have a scar?” Her voice had taken on a slight shrill irrational edge, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Probably a small one, but don’t worry about it. You do feel warm though.” He ran the thermometer across her forehead, and his brow furrowed.
“Is it bad?”
“It’s one hundred and two. Not great and a little worrisome especially after a concussion and your foot surgery. I’ll have Valerie keep a closer eye on you, and I’ll check in more often as well.” He replaced the bandage and then moved to her foot. “Let’s see if you’re feeling your toes today.”
Tia closed her eyes to focus on his touch. “There,” she said when she thought he had touched her toes.
“Good, there’s a little sensation today. That’s progress. It looks like you’ll be staying with us a little longer though.”
“It’s not like I have anywhere to be,” Tia said. “At least I don’t think so. Does the biography on the back say anything about a family?”
Dr. Cavanaugh picked up the book and turned it over. “Tia Sweetchild is a clean romance writer who lives in California. When not writing, she enjoys yoga, candlelit dinners, and long walks on the beach.”
Yoga. Well that explained the feeling of stiff muscles. Unless she had always been nimble, she was sure she had felt some stiffness when she first started yoga, but candlelit dinners and long walks on the beach? The rest of her biography sounded more like a dating ad than a life.
“It doesn’t say anything about a family. I’m sorry.” His eyes held her gaze, and something akin to sadness flickered in them.
“Thank you.” Tia didn’t enjoy hearing those words, but they somehow felt right. She didn’t feel like she had any family waiting for her, and the thought saddened her. “What about you? Do you have family?”
His lips pulled into a thin line, and his hand scraped across his chin. “My parents are still alive, though they don’t live here. I have an older brother and a younger sister, but as for the family I think you meant...no. I was married, but my wife died a year ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Tia said. She hadn’t meant to open wounds especially with him being so nice to her. A strained silence fell between them. “How old do you think I am?”
“What?” The question had obviously caught Dr. Cavanaugh off guard, and the look on his face displayed his discomfort in trying to answer. “I don’t know. Close to thirty maybe?”
Thirty? That meant she was past prime child bearing years and she didn’t even have a husband. Did she even want kids? Maybe she had been so focused on her writing that she had decided to forgo a family. That thought saddened her even more.
“Maybe even younger,” he said as if sensing her feelings. “I’m a terrible judge of age.”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Tia said. “I just can’t believe I’m close to thirty and don’t have a family. No one to miss me. It makes me wonder what my priorities were.”
“I’m sure your fans miss you,” he said. “From the research I did on you, it seems like you have some die-hard fans.”
“You researched me?” Tia didn’t know why but that thought made her smile. How long had he spent digging into her? And did he do this for every patient with amnesia or was she special? She didn’t think she would mind if he found her special. He was definitely easy on the eyes and had a kind air about him. She could see herself dating someone like him – that is if she wasn’t seeing someone already.
A red tint colored his cheeks, and he cleared his throat as his eyes flicked to the side. “Well, I wanted to have some information to share with you about who you were. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much other than great reviews. You must be a talented writer.”
“I hope I remember how to do it again one day.” Tia didn’t know what she would do if she didn’t remember how to write. She had no idea if she possessed any other skills. Had she always been a writer? Was it a full-time job?
“I bet you will.” His eyes softened as he gazed at her. “You look like the kind of person who has stories running around in their head.”
Tia’s heart warmed at his statement, and she felt the corners of her mouth twitch into a flirtatious grin. “I do? What exactly does ‘having stories running around in your head’ look like?”
She was pleased to see another blush color his face. Had he been flirting with her? “Um, well, there’s a depth in your eyes even for someone who doesn’t remember who they are. My guess is you’ve led an interesting life.”
“An interesting though private life it seems,” she said remembering the lack of information he was able to find out about her. While that might not normally be bad, it certainly didn’t help her current situation.
“Maybe you just don’t like the fame,” he offered with a crooked smile. Their eyes locked for a moment before he cleared his throat and checked his watch. “Anyway, I’ve got to go check on a few other patients. I’ll leave the book with you and if you feel up to it, maybe you can read some. Perhaps that might help jog your memo
ry.”
Tia returned his smile and felt a bud of warmth erupt in her heart. “Thank you. I certainly hope so.”
* * *
Brody was still smiling as he exited Tia’s room. It was nice to be able to help her even if only a little. He picked up the chart for the next patient and perused it.
“Don’t you think you’re spending too much time with her?”
Brody looked up to see Valerie Givens, one of the nurses, staring at him. Her arms were folded across her chest, and her brow arched halfway up her large forehead. Valerie was a stickler for rules and often interjected her opinion without asking which made her amazing at her job but not the easiest person to get along with. It probably didn’t help that she had indicated an interest in him when she’d heard his friends were trying to set him up, but he had declined even an initial get together. Dating where he worked held little appeal and she was so stiff that he couldn’t imagine spending time with her.
He took a moment to compose his words before he spoke. There was no need to ruffle Valerie’s feathers more than he already had. “She has no one. She isn’t even sure who she is. I think it’s acceptable to try and help her remember a little about herself. Besides as an ICU doctor, that’s part of my job description.”
Valerie’s lips pursed into a tight light. “I know you like to be hands on, especially since your wife died, but are you sure that’s all it is? You do remember developing a relationship with a patient is frowned upon.”
Brody sighed and rolled his eyes. So was dating coworkers, but that hadn’t stopped her from trying. He’d never had this issue when Rachel was alive, but ever since she passed, people had either been trying to set him up or assumed he was flirting with every single woman he came across. It was tiring and flat out wrong. Rachel had been the love of his life, and he wasn’t looking to replace her. Not now and, more than likely, not in the future. Work was his life now, and he was okay with that. “Oh, and Tia has a fever, so keep a close eye on her. I’ve got other patients to see.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but said nothing more, and he turned to enter the next room. Before he reached the door, the familiar voice of Edith Wilkerson reached him.
“Dr. Cavanaugh. Dr. Cavanaugh, can I have a word?”
Edith Wilkerson was seventy years of age, short, and possessed a feisty albeit sometimes abrasive attitude. A little over a year ago, she had begun volunteering to read to patients in the ICU especially those who had no one to visit them. While he appreciated the help, she was often a pain to deal with, but she had been there for Rachel during the days he couldn’t.
Pasting on his best smile, he turned to Edith. “Yes, Edith, what can I do for you?”
She waddled over to him and jabbed her finger up at him. “Why is your nurse giving me such a hard time? I’ve been coming here and reading to patients for over a year.” She patted the bag that hung from her shoulder proudly. “Nobody else sits with them that long. You all ought to be thanking me, not shooing me out.”
Brody tried not to roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, Edith, I’ll have a talk with Valerie.” He turned to step back into the room, but she grabbed his arm.
“It wasn’t Valerie. She’s a pain that one, but she knows better than to talk like that to me. No, it was one I’ve never seen before. Must be a new one. Italian looking with dark hair.”
Brody tried to visualize the women who worked on the floor, but he didn’t recognize the woman Edith described. However, it felt like they were always assigning new nurses to the floor or moving them around. “I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with her, but maybe you’re right, she could be a new hire. Just tell her you belong here, and I said you’re okay to visit the patients. If she has a problem, have her come to me.”
“I’ll do that. You’d think you all would lay out the carpet for volunteers like me, but no, it’s constant scrutiny and questions.”
“It is a hospital, Edith,” Brody said with a sigh. “We have to make sure our patients are safe.”
She threw her hands up and shook her head. “And I look so threatening. Half of the patients here could run faster than I could.”
That wasn’t true, of course, as most of the patients on this floor were in critical condition, but he understood her sentiment. With her white fluffy hair and short stature, she certainly didn’t look menacing. At least, not unless she caught you with her angry gaze. A gaze he’d only seen once, but that reminded him of the look his father had flashed before taking off his belt and whipping Brody with it when he was young. “I’ll remind the nurses again, Edith.”
“You do that. Now, who should I read to first today?”
As much as Brody didn’t want to overwhelm Tia with Edith, she might enjoy the visit since no one had come to see her yet. “Try the woman in six. She lost her memory though, so be nice.”
She shot him a pointed stare. “I’m always nice, Dr. Cavanaugh. You of all people ought to know that.”
Brody didn’t argue with her. Nice was subjective, and it wasn’t always the adjective he would apply to Edith, but he did remember how she sat with Rachel while Brody worked. How she kept Rachel company when the pain got bad. How she read to Rachel when her eyesight failed. “Her name is Tia.”
“Wonderful. I’ll go make her acquaintance.”
Brody nodded as he turned to head into the next patient’s room, but before he could, a beeping sounded and Valerie popped out of one of the rooms. “Dr. Cavanaugh, we need you in room four.”
He spared one final glance at Edith before hurrying to help the crashing patient.
Chapter 5
Tia smiled as the sound of footsteps entered her room. Was Dr. Cavanaugh back so quickly? Perhaps he had enjoyed their conversation as much as she had and wanted to continue it. Of course, it could be Valerie, the nurse who came in to check her vitals every hour or so, but she hoped it was Dr. Cavanaugh. Valerie was much brusquer and less talkative and either had a permanent chip on her shoulder or just didn’t like Tia.
But it was neither. Instead, a short elderly woman with a full head of white hair entered the room. A visitor? She certainly looked too old to be a nurse.
“Can I help you?” Tia asked.
“I’m Edith Wilkerson. I’m a volunteer at the hospital here, and I’ve come to read to you.” The woman did not phrase this as a question but as a matter of fact statement.
“Oh, I didn’t realize the hospital did that.”
Edith waved her weathered hand as she pulled up a chair. “The hospital doesn’t. The Good Lord called me to do this and they tolerate me. Some new nurse even tried to shoo me away today. People have forgotten what God says about caring for the sick and the elderly.”
“I’m not sure I know much about that myself.” Tia didn’t know if she was a church goer or not, but she thought it might be nice to believe in a higher power looking out for her. “What does God say about caring for the sick and the elderly?”
“That we should do it. Yet most people nowadays are glued to their electronic devices and rarely bother to think about others.” She pulled a book out of her bag and opened it. “Now, I’m in Psalms. Is that okay with you?”
“Um, sure, I suppose.” Tia got the feeling that it wouldn’t matter to Edith if it wasn’t okay with her. The woman looked like she did what she wanted regardless of what others thought, and Tia wondered if she were like that. If not, she thought she might like to be. There was a refreshing honesty to Edith.
Edith pulled out a pair of reader glasses, but before she got very far, another woman entered the room. Tia glanced over but she didn’t recognize this brunette woman in cream colored pants and a flowy blouse either. Another visitor? She’d had no one come to see her and now two in one day. What were the odds? Though the woman flashed a smile, her expression seemed more anxious than friendly.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a visitor already.” A slight tremble laced the woman’s voice, and she gripped the two bags on her shoulder tighter. Tia wondered if t
he nervous air the woman exuded was always there or if this situation made her nervous for some reason. Perhaps the nurse had told her Tia might not remember her. That would have to be jarring for anyone.
“I’m not a visitor,” Edith said turning shrewd eyes on the woman. “I’m a volunteer.”
The woman glanced at Edith before dropping her gaze to the floor. “Oh, well, can I have a moment with Tia?”
“I’m not leaving because I haven’t finished my duty, but I’ll go sit over there.” Edith closed her book and moved to a chair across the room, but her eyes stayed on Tia and the woman.
“Do I know you?” It was a dumb question as the woman had just said her name, but it slipped out before Tia could stop it. She tried to recall any memory of the woman with her mousy brown hair and hazel eyes, but nothing appeared.
“You mean you don’t know me?” The woman said the words slowly and her voice held a hint of disbelief, but at that realization, her posture seemed to gain confidence. Her shoulders pulled back, and her gaze landed on Tia fully instead of skirting to the side as it had done before.
Something in her gaze bothered Tia, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. “I don’t. I hit my head in a car accident, and I don’t remember much before waking up here.”
“Is that right?” The woman’s voice sounded wrong somehow.
Fear bubbled in Tia’s stomach, and she narrowed her eyes at the woman. “Are we friends?”
The woman’s lips pulled into something close to a smile. “What? Yeah. Friends. I’m Debra Rearden.” She looked at Tia expectantly as if waiting for the name to mean something.
And it did. Slightly. The name triggered something at the back of Tia’s mind, something that made her heart beat faster and her pulse speed up, but she couldn’t bring the memory forward. “I’m sorry. I still don’t know you.”
At this, the woman appeared to brighten even more. “Oh, well, I heard about your accident, and I wanted to bring you this.” She slid one bag off her shoulder and held it out to Tia.
Lost Memories And New Beginnings (The Men 0f Fire Beach Book 2) Page 3
