“So you remember the ride?” Dr. Arnett asked.
Clint nodded. “But not the dismount.”
A bad sign. But since he’d lost consciousness, not unexpected.
“And what date is it?”
Clint frowned in concentration, then came up with February 23. A few days short and still two years behind on the year.
“And how old are you?” the doctor probed.
“Twenty-six.”
But Lexie was pretty sure he was twenty-eight.
“All right.” Dr. Arnett checked the computer, then stepped away from the bed. “You get some rest.”
“Can the nurse stay?” Clint focused on Lexie. “I’ve seen you before and it’s driving me up the wall trying to place you.”
“This is Lexie Parker, our former cccupational therapist. And we’re all wishing it wasn’t former. You’re stable, so you don’t need a nurse. We’ll be moving you into a regular room soon.” The doctor hurried for the door. “It’s late and you need rest.”
“But wait.” He reached toward her. “I know you, Lexie. You were at my dad’s funeral.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Of all the things to remember with his muddled brain...
“You were his therapist. Mom bragged on you. Said Dad’s last days wouldn’t have been as functional without you. That he wouldn’t have been able to spend them at home if not for you. I’ve always wanted to thank you.”
“I’m glad I could help him.” Her vision clouded. “Don’t tell my other patients, but Levi was my favorite.” She gave him a finger wave and exited. Glad she was behind the doctor, she blinked the moisture away and focused.
“We’ll go back to the consultation room. I just texted a nurse to get his mom so she can join us.” Dr. Arnett ushered her in front of him as they retraced their steps, then closed the door behind them.
“How long until he regains his memory?” Lexie settled in one of several chairs lining the room.
“Each case is unique, but most of the time, within a few weeks.”
“Could his memory loss be permanent?”
“It could happen, but it’s rare.” A knock sounded on the door. “Come in.”
A nurse opened the door, and a nervous-looking Audrey and Ted stepped inside, along with a very pretty blonde woman probably close to Lexie’s age. Clint’s girlfriend, perhaps?
“Please, have a seat.” He opened Clint’s file. “I’m Dr. Arnett, head of neurology. I’m familiar with the Rawlins family since Levi was my patient.”
“Then you remember Audrey, Clint’s mom.” Ted kept his arm around her shoulders. “And her daughter, Carly. I’m Audrey’s fiancé.”
Oh, yes. Lexie remembered Carly from the funeral. She’d been pregnant. And brunette.
“I asked Lexie along for my consultation, since she’s familiar with your family, as well.”
“Lexie was Levi’s occupational therapist. A true blessing.” Audrey’s smile quivered.
“I saw you at Dad’s funeral, but I’m so glad to finally meet you.” Carly shook Lexie’s hand.
“You, too.”
“What exactly are we dealing with here, Doc?” Ted’s grimace revealed his worry.
“Clint has lost the last two years. He believes he’s twenty-six and his father died six months ago.”
“Why two years, I wonder?” Audrey asked.
“The mind is a tricky thing. But looking into his medical history, I found he woke up after a bull wreck in our emergency room almost exactly two years ago, with a concussion. It looks like his brain has taken him back to that time.”
“A bull wreck? Two years ago?” Audrey shook her head. “That’s impossible.”
“Our records indicate it was a minor concussion and we kept him overnight for observation.”
“How could I not know that?” She sank further into her seat. “I thought he quit bull riding after Levi’s diagnosis.”
“Actually—” Carly’s eyes squeezed closed “—he competed in the rodeo at San Antonio two years ago. To save the ranch. He didn’t tell me until he ended up here. In fact, I’m the one who drove him home from the ER the next morning. But he promised me he wouldn’t do it again.”
As family secrets spilled, Lexie felt more and more out of place.
“He won that money riding bulls?” Audrey shook her head. “He told me y’all cashed in the savings bonds Grandpa left.”
“We did, but they weren’t enough.”
“I should have known.” Audrey’s eyes widened. “He had a concussion then and now a brain injury.” She released a shuddering breath. “Please tell me he won’t end up like Levi.”
“We’ll know more when we get more tests back. But Levi’s illness isn’t hereditary.”
“But it was a result of bull riding.” Carly blew out a big breath.
“Yes, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” Dr. Arnett used his best soothing tone. “Your father competed in the rodeo for much longer and had a lot more bull wrecks under his belt than your brother.”
“Could Clint end up with other problems?” Carly asked.
“He might have some issues with balance, motor skills, hand-eye coordination. We’ll know more once we get him on his feet in the morning.”
“But this is all fixable?” Audrey hung on every word. “Right?”
“In all probability, the memory problems will clear up in a week or two, a few months at most. I will caution you, though. Injuries like this often cause changes in personality, most notably mood swings and temper tantrums. Sometimes even violent episodes. If we see anything like that, I’ll have a neurophysiologist consult with him.”
“What’s that?” Audrey’s gaze pinged from Dr. Arnett to Lexie.
“A specialist who assesses reasoning impairment.” Lexie tried to give a layman’s definition. “And helps the patient manage behaviors and learn coping methods.”
“So what’s our course of action?” Ted asked, in take-charge mode.
The more Lexie saw of him, the more she liked him.
“In my experience, patients recover more quickly if they’re calm and relaxed. So I recommend that you help him recapture memories slowly. Start with gently explaining what year it is. Once that’s sunk in for him, Audrey can explain her relationship with you. Let him chew on that a few days before you show up.”
“You want us to lie to him?” Clint’s mom scoffed.
“In the interest of helping him make a full, frustration-free recovery, yes. Just for a few days, a week at the most.”
Lexie caught Audrey’s gaze and gave her a reassuring smile. “If you dump everything on him at once, he might feel overwhelmed.”
Audrey blew out a big sigh. “So Ted needs to stay clear?”
“Yes. Clint thinks his father has only been gone for six months. His mom having a fiancé would be very jarring for him.”
“I’ll do whatever’s best for Clint.” Ted’s jaw set in a stubborn line. “But I can’t just sit back and let Audrey deal with this alone.”
“You need to steer clear of Clint, not his mom,” Dr. Arnett said with a smile.
“What about the wedding in six weeks, do we need to postpone?”
“Oh, Ted. No.” Audrey clutched his arm.
“It’s okay. Right now, we need to do what’s best for your boy.”
Lexie’s heart squeezed, thankful Audrey had found a second selfless man to love her.
“Don’t do anything rash about the wedding,” the doctor advised. “He could remember everything by this time next week.”
“How long will he have to stay here?” Audrey asked.
“We’re still waiting on a few test results, but he should be able to go home in a few days.”
“But the wedding invitations have gone out. If he talks to anyone who knows, he’ll find out,” Ted
reasoned.
Dr. Arnett cleared his throat. “You’ll need to keep him secluded until he’s up to speed on all the major changes he’s forgotten.”
“And you’re certain this is the best course of action?” Audrey clasped shaky hands in her lap.
“Hopefully, by the end of the week, he’ll remember everything on his own. Maybe a few weeks.”
“All right, then, I’ll disappear until I get the all clear,” Ted agreed.
Carly stood, her flat stomach apparent in a slim-fitting dress, reminding Lexie of the difference since the last time she’d seen Clint’s sister.
“There’s one more thing. How many children do you have now, Carly?” Lexie asked.
“Oh, that’s right. Two years ago, I was huge—Charlee wasn’t born yet. And Cooper was five.”
Audrey covered her face with both hands. “How do we tell him he has a niece who will be two in a month and a nephew who’s seven instead of five like he remembers?”
Dr. Arnett tapped his chin with an index finger. “You and your brother are close?”
“Very.” Carly shrugged. “I mean we give each other a hard time, but we’re pretty tight. And he’s very close to my son, Cooper, too.”
“After you let him in on the time lapse, let him remember the pregnancy on his own and then explain. And don’t bring your son to see him until he’s had time for it all to sink in.”
“But what if he gets his thoughts together enough to notice I’m no longer pregnant before we tell him about the past two years?”
“Just be gentle with him,” Dr. Arnett assured her. “You’ll know what to say when the time comes.”
Audrey dabbed her nose with a fresh tissue. “What about therapy?”
“Once he’s up to speed on the last two years, we can get him a room in our PT facilities or send a therapist to him. I think you’ll like our occupational therapist.”
“He’ll never agree to stay here.” Audrey shook her head. “He needs to be home.”
“Order whatever equipment he needs.” Ted patted Audrey’s shoulder. “I’ll pay for everything.”
“That’s very kind. But the cost could be exorbitant even with rental equipment,” Dr. Arnett cautioned.
“I’m good for it. I didn’t mention my last name, did I? Ted Townsend.”
As in Townsend Gas & Oil. Yeah, he was definitely good for it, Lexie noted. And very generous.
“If you’re certain that’s what you want?”
“Anything for Audrey’s boy.” Ted turned to Lexie. “Since you know your stuff, can you oversee ordering the equipment he’ll need?”
“That’s too much to ask,” Clint’s mom interrupted. “Lexie is trying to get moved and she has a new job.”
“Actually, my job doesn’t start for a month and I’d like to help.”
“All right, with Lexie’s help, I’ll get the equipment ordered.” Dr. Arnett closed the file. “I’ll also compile a list of therapists in the area to contact so you can set up a schedule to work with him daily.”
“Actually, I’m hoping we have our therapist.” Audrey grabbed Lexie’s hand. “It’s like God put this together for us. You between jobs and my son needing you.”
Her heart turned over. “Let me think about it.” An opportunity to help the Rawlins family. To guide Clint to a full recovery—the thing she couldn’t do for his dad. Was this her second chance to make things right for this family?
“When should we break it to Clint about his lost years?” Carly asked.
“Tomorrow morning. We’ll see how he takes the news, get all the test results, and go from there on when to release him.” The doctor checked his watch.
Ted took the hint and stood. “We’ll let you get back to your other patients.”
As the family filed out, Lexie’s heart hurt for them. Despite Dr. Arnett’s assurances that Clint would probably fully recover, fear lingered in Audrey’s eyes. Making Lexie want to do whatever she could to ease her worries.
* * *
It took all of Clint’s concentration to take one step. Drenched in sweat, he managed one toddler-sized, wobbly step, with Willis, the orderly, supporting the bulk of his weight.
“Why won’t my feet do what I tell them to?”
“Maybe because a bull—which you weren’t supposed to be riding—stepped on your head.” Carly harrumphed, dwarfed by her billboard-sized purse.
“It’s good to see you too, sis.”
“You’re doing fine.” The orderly settled him back in his chair and typed something into the computer.
“I have every right to be quite livid.” Carly tapped her foot. “You almost got yourself killed last night.”
“But he didn’t.” Mom shot his sister the look. “This is no time for anger. We need to count our blessings that Clint came out as unscathed as he did.”
“Where’s Joel? I need my brother-in-law to take my side.”
Carly hesitated, drawing in a shaky breath. “He got deployed to Afghanistan.”
“Afghanistan? When?”
“He’ll be back in a month.”
“That’s a short little deployment. Oh, I get it. They’re letting him come home for the baby’s birth.”
Mom and Carly looked at each other, then gave him an encouraging smile.
Something was up with them. “When do I get to start therapy? Where’s Lexie?”
“Dr. Arnett didn’t say.” Mom shrugged. “And I imagine she’s packing.”
“Packing?”
“Yesterday was Lexie’s last day here. She’s got a new job at the rehab center in Bandera.”
So once he got out of here, would she be his therapist? Why did it matter to him? Because she’d been so instrumental in Dad’s treatment?
Carly turned his chair toward the door.
“Am I out of here?”
“Not quite. Dr. Arnett said we can take you outside for some fresh air,” she answered.
“Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.” Willis typed something else in the computer. “How about lunch outside?”
“Sure.” But Clint longed to see what he’d written. Just how bad off was he?
Carly wheeled him out of his room, down the corridor to a set of double doors. It hurt his pride to have his big sister compensating for his inability to mobilize his wayward limbs.
But once they got outside, he could breathe better. Maybe even think better.
She parked him under a large live oak tree and Willis hooked a tray holding his lunch on his chair. The two women in his life settled on a bench facing him. Mom looked like she had when they’d had to tell him his dog died, when he was eight.
“What’s going on?”
“Eat your lunch, sweetheart. We just have a few things to discuss.”
“How bad off am I?” He homed in on Carly. She wouldn’t sugarcoat it.
“All things considered, you’re in pretty good shape. You’ll need occupational therapy to help you regain your balance and fine motor skills. And...there are a few holes in your memory.” She turned to their mom.
“What? I remember everything but my dismount.” Didn’t he? Something twisted in his stomach.
“Honey, it’s not a big deal.” Mom’s tone was all soft, as if she were speaking to a child. “The doctor says it happens all the time with brain injuries. And your memory should come back just fine.”
Except for one thing. That was how Dad’s illness began. With memory loss.
He frowned. “Is there something I don’t know?” His gaze fastened on his sister’s midsection. She was supposed to be pregnant. Wasn’t she? Had she had another miscarriage? Then the reason for her huge purse dawned on him. She’d been hiding behind it. “Oh, sis, did you lose the baby?”
She gasped. “No! I had her, a little girl—Charlee. She’s fine.”
“Oh, thank You, God.” He closed his eyes. Think. Think. “So you had her while I was in the ER?”
“It seems you’ve lost a couple of years.” Mom told him the date and year. Two years in the future.
“What?” His brain crashed.
“It’s been two and a half years since Dad died.” Carly knelt beside him, squeezing his hand.
“Two and a half years?” No...that was impossible. “It’s only been six months.”
Carly pulled a newspaper out of her purse and handed it to him.
He read the date. February 26. He’d been close. But the year took his breath away. His head hurt. Badly. How could he lose two years of his life? The newspaper slipped from his grip. The wind caught it, separated it and strewed sections across the lawn. Just like the scattered pieces of his mind.
“Clint. Sweetheart. Are you okay?” Mom’s voice sounded far away.
“I’d like to go back to my room now.”
Chapter Three
Church had been a blur, but Lexie had gone to the altar to pray for Clint and put him on the prayer list. As she navigated the hospital parking lot, the afternoon sun warmed things up a bit, but the air still had a bite to it.
She met patients hobbling around or in wheelchairs, family members tending to them, nurses and doctors obviously at the end of their shifts, yawning their way toward the parking garage. As she neared the building, a familiar form caught her eye—Carly sitting on a bench, staring at the water fountain.
“You okay?”
The young woman let out a harsh, derisive laugh. “I really couldn’t tell you.”
“Is Clint okay?” Lexie held her breath. Please, Lord, how much can one family take?
“He’s resting. Mom’s up in his room with him, and Ted’s in the waiting room—pretending he doesn’t exist. Clint’s probably getting released tomorrow afternoon and we’re supposed to meet in Dr. Arnett’s office to go over his test results in a few minutes.” Releasing a heavy sigh, Carly tucked her hair behind her ears. “I had to come out here to call and check on the kids since I couldn’t get a good signal inside.”
The Cowboy's Missing Memory Page 2