by Kay Stockham
Finally they reached the truck. Marley opened the door then had to balance Beau while he favored the injured leg and the arm so recently in a sling. Fighting off another surge of memories, she plastered herself to his side and helped him by pushing where she could. Doing so put her up-close-and-personal with Beau. He froze in the act of trying to get situated on the bench seat, his gaze fastening on her face, her eyes, before it dropped to her mouth.
Other than the rasp of their breathing and the wind in the trees from the brewing storm, nothing broke the silence surrounding them. Marley couldn’t help but think that the growing turbulence in the sky above them reflected the mood, the moment, perfectly. No cars, no noise. There was just the two of them and a lot of things unsaid.
Beau lifted his hand, slowly, to her cheek, his knuckles rough as they grazed lightly over her skin and down, toward her lips. “Marley.”
Her name brought her out of her daze. She jerked backward, her panicked momentum stopped when her shoulder blades slammed into the door of the truck.
Beau’s expression softened. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t touch me.”
“Marley…Baby, I’m not—” His eyes widened, the fading bruise at the corner raising slightly with his eyebrows. “You’re afraid of me?” He blanched. “Is that it? When we were together, I hurt you?”
He looked so horrified and disgusted at the thought, the need to reassure him was automatic. “N-No!” She took a steadying breath. “No, Beau, you didn’t hurt me. Not physically.”
Beau sagged against the seat in relief. “Thank God.”
A muffled laugh erupted from her chest. “God had nothing to do with what we did. Now, where do you want me?” The very second the question left her mouth, she cringed. He unnerved her so badly, and looking the way he did—all concerned and scared and freaked out at the thought of her frightened of him…“To take you,” she clarified, belatedly realizing her words only made the double entendre worse. Where do you want me to take you? Oh, good grief! “To the doctor o-or home?”
“Home.” Beau held her gaze and refused to let her look away. “Take me home. We can talk there.”
Marley shut the door with a slam, unable to believe he hadn’t laughed at her blunders. She took the long way around the truck, the rain-cooled wind whipping her hair out of her band and blowing it in her face, cooling her embarrassment-heated body.
Her attack of foot-in-mouth could only be blamed on the differences in Beau. The way he made her feel hyperaware and on edge. Five years ago Beau was a gorgeous hottie, but now…
Now there was something about him. Something basic and elemental, masculine. Maturity was certainly part of it, but there was still more.
She shook her head to clear it. The first drop of cold rain splattered her forehead and broke her out of her musings. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She’d been there, done that, and she wasn’t about to let some sinfully long eyelashes and a rugged set of features send her into blind orbit again. She’d forgotten herself once and then she and her family had paid the price. Beau hadn’t just broken her heart, that had been the least of the damage done.
Unable to slow her steps anymore, she made it to the cab of the truck and grabbed the handle to climb inside just as the clouds opened up. Rain poured from the sky. Beau struggled with the task of rolling his window up because of his injury, but she managed with little fuss, leaving a two-inch gap at the top.
Seconds passed and they were trapped inside the too-small cab, both of them sticky with sweat and dirt and rain. Marley started the truck and ground the gears, bit her tongue to still the curse that sprang to her lips and finally got the truck moving.
Beau shifted uncomfortably on the seat. A quick glance at the set of his jaw and the stiff way he moved revealed he was still in pain.
“Thanks for the ride.”
Marley ignored him and prayed he’d do the same to her. Rain drummed against the roof of the cab, locked them in the overheated space. She’d told Clay she’d talk to Beau about leaving but now that the time had presented itself, the words refused to come.
“That makes the second time I fell on my butt in front of you.” Beau chuckled, the sound edged with wry embarrassment. “Probably a God-smack for whatever it was I did to you.”
Her hands tightened on the wheel. God-smack? She’d heard the term used many times, believed in them herself after her various experiences, but the so-called gentle reprimands God gave a person when He felt they were getting a tad out of hand and needed to be reminded of who was in control wasn’t exactly something she would’ve associated with Beau. Apparently war had made him religious. “You, um, never struck me as a faith-oriented kind of guy.”
Beau sat with his head leaning against the seat, a smile curling his lips up at the corners. “I was that bad, huh?”
Best to stick with the truth. “You were a parent’s nightmare and a girl’s good time.”
“But?”
This time she was the one who laughed. “But what? Those kinds of good times never last.”
“Sounds like I didn’t deserve to have them last.” He hesitated. “Pop said I was ordered to either enlist or serve time. I realize that to have been given the choice between those two options, I wasn’t a standup kind of guy.”
Marley nibbled her inner lip, surprised that he’d admit what he just did and have the grace to look ashamed about it.
Amazing. Five years ago Beau would’ve bragged about his “badness.” Now he said thanks, laughed at himself for supposedly embarrassing himself in front of her and…How could someone change so much?
The old Beau would’ve copped a feel while she helped him to the truck and taken advantage of her incapacitated state and kissed her before rinsing her eyes. In the two weeks she’d known him five years ago, Beau had always put himself first. His wants, his needs, his desires. Him, him, him. Which made courtesy and common decency from him—weird.
“Marley, I need answers.”
Ah, there it was. The Beau Factor. She should’ve known it was coming. He wanted answers, and he was determined to get them. The confession had been to butter her up.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
She pulled her gaze from the road long enough to slide him a glare. “No,” she admitted softly, “but I’ve seen your dad coming from this direction so I assume your home is up ahead.”
“Next left. Hang a right, then another left.” He smiled again. “Was that so bad?”
She didn’t respond. They both knew that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.
Marley drove in silence, aware of the way he watched her, waiting for Beau to question her. How did they meet, where. Why did they end. Would he ask that? What would she say? That she’d thought herself in love with him and he didn’t love her back? That was just too humiliating to reveal. Much worse than merely admitting she’d had sex with him.
Sweat coated her body and she probably smelled a little ripe, a combination of the heat and humidity and nervousness of being confined with him. She wished she could turn on the air-conditioning, but the truck was twenty years old and the rain-splattered breeze from the lowered windows and side air vents would have to do.
“Marley—”
“I can’t.” She shook her head quickly back and forth. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t do this. Let you grill me. I lied to get you in the truck. Sue me.”
“Marley—”
“No, Beau. Can we not do this?” Her resolve to be civil slipped, and her hands ached where they gripped the wheel. “Can we just…Beau, drop the act and be honest.” She forced herself to meet his gaze. “What will it take for you to leave South Ridge and never come back?”
“Marley, I’m not lying about the memory loss.”
“I know that.” She wet her dry lips. “It makes it worse, almost, but it certainly doesn’t excuse it.”
“Excuse what? Marley, please, talk t
o me. Whatever it is I did, I want to make up for it.”
“You can’t, so why bother talking about it?” She hated the way her name sounded coming from his mouth.
“But you believe me? About the amnesia?”
She nodded. “After you left, the site manager came over to see how things were going. He saw you talking to me and mentioned your dad going to Germany to be with you. He speaks highly of your father, says he’s a good guy. If that’s true—”
“It is.”
“Then he wouldn’t make up something like amnesia to excuse your behavior. He wouldn’t lie about something that serious—not even for you.” Beau had lied to her before. Many times. An amazing amount considering the short time she’d known him. But the changes in personality and behavior, well, that fit the descriptions of amnesia she’d read on the Internet last night when she’d been too worried to sleep.
“Pop is a good guy. He stayed by my side at the hospital the whole time I was there.”
“That’s nice. Parents should do that.” Her throat tightened and she cleared it. “They should support their kids and—and be there for them.” The way her mother would never be there for her.
As if sensing her mood, Beau lifted his uninjured arm to rest along the top of the bench seat. His fingertips brushed her shoulder. “Touchy subject?”
“You could say that.”
“Okay…How about some good news then? You’d be the first to know.”
She wondered if Beau’s change of topic was to be nice or get her to lower her guard. “What good news?”
“I remembered something while I was walking.”
Her heart missed a beat. “About us?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it. What a stupid thing to ask. Of course he wouldn’t remember anything about them. They had barely existed, and only then because she’d allowed Beau to get into her pants when she’d kept other guys at arm’s length. A virgin he’d had to have until he’d done the deed and then…
“No. Sorry.”
Another apology, she mused. Where had they been back then? “What did you remember?” she asked quickly, wanting to move on.
“It was something my mother used to say. A Psalm she liked to quote. All I could remember at first was the sound of her voice while she said it, but then it sort of repeated in my head a few times and I knew it was her. I even remembered what she looked like.”
She smiled at the triumphant expression on his face. “That’s great. Congratulations.” She would’ve thought his first memory would’ve been of a kegger or something similar. How sweet was it that it was of his mother?
Mama’s boy. She bit her lip. Apparently even guys like Beau held a soft spot for their mothers.
But a Psalm?
Stop it!
Remembering something was a step in the right direction. One that obviously meant a lot to him. She wouldn’t lower herself to being mean about that. What if their situations were reversed? She didn’t want to be on the receiving end of a God-smack and find out what that would be like.
“Yeah. I’m pretty happy right now. Maybe it’s the start, you know? I’ve remembered a few other things, voices, but I couldn’t identify the people. I just heard them. I’m hoping that since I can remember her voice and what she looked like, the others will come. Who knows, maybe it means I’ll remember us soon, too.”
Marley pulled her gaze away from his and focused on driving, the silence between them dragging on. “So what do you remember? Other than what you remembered today.”
“Nothing specific.”
She swung her head back toward him in surprise. “Nothing? As in nothing?”
He nodded. “Basic stuff. How to eat, tie my shoes, fix breakfast. Normal stuff people do every day. I can do all of that without a problem, but I don’t remember people or the past. It’s all gone, like a big blur in my head that I can’t get sorted out.”
Marley stared out at the road ahead, trying to comprehend the magnitude of such a thing. Thinking of amnesia in technical medical terms was one thing, but to remember nothing? How frightening. Still…“Does it ever seem nice?”
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I can’t imagine it all disappearing. Being able to start over again.”
“It only disappears if no one else remembers, Marley.”
Good point. She mulled over Beau’s words while she made the turns he’d told her to take, the silence lengthening as they drove along a narrow back road parallel to a shallow creek. “Do the doctors know when your memory will return?”
He shook his head with a caustic laugh. “They say it’ll come back in time, but there’s no specific date. I’m supposed to be patient while I get bits and pieces the way I just did, and try to pretend people don’t look at me as if I’ll go postal at any moment or need to be placed in a home for mental patients.”
Stiffening at the comment and the reminders that it brought to the surface, she pulled up to the little house, recently empty due to an elderly woman’s passing. Mrs. Addington. The woman had always been outside tending her flowers, a member of the same local gardening club her mother had helped found but no longer belonged to.
Marley was a member now because of her business, but she rarely attended meetings and sat in the back when she did, her mother’s friends up front. The sight of them was a constant guilt-trip because her mother wasn’t there. Thanks to her.
Marley rubbed her forehead to ease the tension. “Your father can’t help you with your questions about the past? Give you hints?”
“About some things, yeah, but the shrinks told him I need to remember on my own so the only things he’ll tell me really don’t matter much.” He leaned closer. “You obviously knew me pretty well.”
“What makes you say that?”
His eyes narrowed, the tiny lines at the corners deepening in the process. “I’m not the type of person who needs protecting, Marley. You have things to say to me, I can tell. Say them. I’m stronger than Pop thinks and I need answers, which is why I’m asking you to be honest with me. Marley, tell me what happened with us. How would you handle this if you were me? The not knowing? Could you be this way and be satisfied with everyone telling you to wait?”
She’d hate it. In that regard, she and Beau were similar because she’d react with the same inquisitiveness.
“I know you don’t like me now because of whatever happened between us, but I want to fix it. Marley, I’d like a clean slate with you.”
Feeling herself softening toward him, she stared out the window at the hydrangea bush whose blooms had started to dry on the stem. She felt like that, still alive but dead, too. Not a part of things because she couldn’t integrate herself back into her parents’ lives. Not a part of the dating scene because fear always held her back.
No way could she admit to Beau how much of a fool she’d been to believe his lies, to think of them as a couple when she’d been nothing more to him than an easy lay.
She understood his need to know the truth, empathized, but she couldn’t go down that path. Not with him. “Do you need help to the door?”
Hesitating only briefly, Beau locked his jaw at her refusal and eased out of the truck into the steady rain.
“Was whatever I did to you that bad?”
She smiled, tired. “You need to go in. Don’t forget to ice your leg.”
He didn’t move. “I meant what I said, Marley. I’m sorry. I can tell I hurt you, but if we could talk about it and put whatever happened behind us, we could start over. It could be nice.”
Her heart lurched at his words, at his coaxing smile. Marley shoved the vehicle into Reverse and shook her head. “I don’t think so. B-besides, you said you need to remember on your own.”
“Marley, talk to me. Come inside. We’ll—”
“No. I can’t do this, Beau. Do you think I don’t want to go back and have a do-over? You screwed up my life, and no matter how hard I try to make up for it, I’m still paying the pric
e.”
“What does that mean? What did I do?”
“Just let it be!”
“I can’t! Do you think I haven’t figured out that if it wasn’t important, you’d have already told me? That if it was some stupid kid stuff, it would be no big deal and you’d spit it out? But it was a big deal, I see it on your face. In your eyes. I’m not going to stop asking, Marley, not until you tell—”
“I was pregnant.” Even though she’d barely had a voice to say the words, he heard them. A derisive laugh escaped her chest at his shock. “You look so surprised.” Her throat burned, so tight it felt as if a knot had formed on her vocal cords. She’d told Beau this before and he hadn’t cared. How cruel was it that she had to go through it again?
“We have a baby?”
A sound escaped her, full of every ounce of pain she had inside her. “No, Beau, we don’t. We don’t have anything and we never did. You made me pregnant, but you didn’t give a damn about either one of us. Shut the door.”
“What happened to our baby?” His face was pale beneath his tan.
“Shut the door!”
“I have a right to know, I’m the father! Put the truck in Park and talk to me, Marley.”
“Shut. The. Door.”
He slammed the door closed with enough force that the entire truck rocked. Beau stared at her through the window, drenched to the skin by the relentless rain, but it was his red-rimmed eyes that broke through her silence.
“She’s dead. She was stillborn.” Marley gunned the engine. Beau jerked out of the way of the extended mirror, but other than a quick, guilty glance to make sure he was still upright, she got out of there as fast as she could. Tires spinning, gravel flying, she backed out of the driveway and wished she could leave the past behind as easily as she left Beau.
She shoved the truck into first gear and took off down the narrow road, struggling to breathe, the pain so strong and so deep it could’ve been happening all over again. Beau was right.
Someone always remembers.
CHAPTER NINE
