If truth be told, she’d feel a lot better if she knew who John really was, if she had more details about his past. But she’d seen how good he was with Doc, how good he was with the horses.
How good he’d been with her.
Surely that counted for something.
As she began to pass through the bedroom doorway, she glanced over her shoulder, stealing one last peek at the naked man sitting on the edge of her bed, the tall, dark and handsome stranger who held her heart in his hands.
His smile told her not to worry, that everything would be okay.
She just hoped she could believe that.
As Betsy disappeared down the hall, John waited for the bathroom door to click open and shut. Then he threw off the covers and climbed out of bed.
He wished she’d been able to stay home this morning, but he, more than anyone, understood job obligations and professional commitments. Again, he wasn’t sure how he knew that-he just did.
He’d no more than placed a bare foot on the cold hardwood floor when voices from the past blasted through the wall that had been holding back his memories.
The board meeting had been important, though. And his presence was critical. Several attorneys had cleared their calendars for the day just to be on hand.
Even now, in Brighton Valley, Texas, John was reeling, trying to make sense of the conversation.
Then her voice dropped to an ominous and threatening decibel, as her threat echoed in his mind.
He’d never appreciated ultimatums, never fell for them. Not even those issued by…?
Suddenly it was gone-the vague memory, the voices.
Had
Yes, he had to be. But who was
Had she made good on her promise to move out? Or had John-or rather, Jason-given in to her demands?
And when had that blasted conversation taken place? Last week? Last month? Last year?
He ran a hand through his tousled hair, as if that would clear his mind and gather his thoughts. But it didn’t free him from the darkness that had swallowed his memory and had shot his reality full of holes.
More frustrated than ever, he headed for the kitchen, intending to put on a pot of coffee and to fix Betsy something to eat.
At least he could follow up on that particular commitment.
But were there others he should have kept?
Two days later, while sitting in Doc’s pickup in the parking lot of Miller’s Market, John-or rather, Jason-didn’t have any more answers than he did when he’d remembered that snippet of conversation between him and a yet- to-be-remembered woman.
For that reason, he’d kept the knowledge of that particular memory flash to himself, as well as all the questions it had served to stir up. After all, how could he explain anything to Betsy when he couldn’t understand any of it himself?
Still, he’d been relieved to have finally gotten a solid clue to the man he really was. At least he’d thought he had. He’d assumed that he was a businessman of some kind, but then he’d realized that might not be a safe assumption.
What if he’d just needed to attend that board meeting as an invited guest, like the attorneys who’d cleared their calendars?
Apparently, even his most telling revelation to date hadn’t been all that helpful.
The morning after he and Betsy had first made love, he’d managed to make coffee, scramble some eggs and send her off to the hospital without her realizing that he was being unusually pensive.
At least she hadn’t said anything about it then.
After she’d left for the hospital, he’d kept himself busy. He’d fed the stock, mucked the stalls and rode the perimeter of the ranch, checking the fence for places that needed repair. But in spite of his productivity that day, his mood had been crappy.
But why wouldn’t it be? He hadn’t been able to figure out what to do about his relationship with Betsy. He’d certainly wanted to make love to her again, but how could he if he wasn’t sure if he was involved with someone else or not?
Of course he’d been able to come up with quite a few reasons to believe the woman who’d issued him the ultimatum had done so ages ago. And that he was free to continue a relationship with Betsy.
Trouble was, if he didn’t give a rat’s ass about the possibility of a prior romantic commitment with someone else, it wouldn’t make him any better than Betsy’s lousy ex-husband had been.
Still, when she came home that night, he’d been waiting for her on the porch. And after a quiet dinner, they’d gone to bed-together.
The same scene had played out the next night, although he’d found himself growing more and more pensive- and more frustrated by the amnesia that plagued him. In fact, that’s why he continued to sit in Doc’s pickup, just thinking about the things that were happening in the present.
Betsy hadn’t gone in to work today, which was what brought him to the market now.
Earlier, she’d gone to see Doc and had returned to the house with a couple of bags filled with groceries.
“Need some help?” he’d asked, heading toward her.
“No, I’ve got it.”
She’d kissed him, then carried the groceries into the house. “I invited my folks to dinner tonight. I hope you’re okay with that.”
“Of course.” He liked her parents. But he had to admit that he was a little uneasy about making any kind of public statement about their relationship-at least, until he knew where it was going.
Or what might keep it from going anywhere.
“I thought we’d have tacos,” she’d said. “How does that sound to you?”
“Great.”
As she began to put away her purchases, she paused and looked him over. Really looked. “You’ve been awfully quiet the past few days. Is something wrong?”
“No,” he lied, not wanting to admit that he was burdened by guilt, which could really be for naught.
It was entirely possible that he was unattached. And if he learned that he had a wife or fiancee, he’d end their sexual relationship immediately.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I’ve just got Doc on my mind. I probably should have gone to see him today, but I got caught up with chores and the time just slipped away.”
Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. He was concerned about Doc, of course. And he’d been busy. But that wasn’t the cause of his silence.
“Doc is actually doing better today,” she said.
“I’m glad to hear that.” He tossed her a smile, which seemed to put her mind at ease.
Why should they both be miserable and stressed?
“He’s having some speech problems,” she added, “but he was able to communicate. And you were right. He definitely wants to sell the ranch.”
John nodded, his mind still on other concerns, like whether he should come right out and admit what he was