by Edie Claire
She sat on the log watching them for nearly an hour, marveling at the art of a sport she’d never given much thought to. Riding the swells successfully required a well-choreographed dance of wave selection, timing, smoothly quick movements, and — of course — excellent balance. Ben could manage the basics all right, but he struggled with the latter skill. He kept falling off his board in unpredictable and dramatic fashion, appearing as if he enjoyed a good dunking. Jason, she realized quickly, was a master. He rode the flowing mountains as if he and his board were a part of them, making the whole process look both fun and ridiculously easy. While Ben and many of the others held their balance in a crouch, Jason stood tall and straight, chin up and arms relaxed, as if the feat took no effort at all.
When he executed a particularly dramatic switchback maneuver, basically cutting a Z on the moving face of a wave, Laney felt moved to applaud. Her hands quickly stilled when she realized that two other women, sitting together on a log about thirty feet away, were also applauding. “Woohoo!” one of them hooted, rising in her enthusiasm. “Nice one, Jason!”
As Laney watched him respond with a friendly wave, her good spirits took a nosedive. Then she got annoyed. With herself.
She’d had Jason’s number thirty seconds after meeting him, and she knew damn well that developing romantic feelings for a guy like him was about as smart as walking into a brick wall. How her defenses had gotten so weak she wasn’t sure; she could only hope she’d caught the childish emotion early enough to squelch it.
She stood up and began to wander, turning her attention from the surfers to the sand. The beach was crisscrossed with interesting tracks, both human and animal. She saw signs of sandals and sneakers, big dogs and small dogs, one barefoot human (seriously?), and some strange V-shaped scratches she guessed were bird’s feet. Equally intriguing was the bizarre seaweed deposited by the last high tide. Some clumps were colorful and leafy, reminiscent of a gourmet salad, while other species looked more like medieval weapons. One specimen resembled a long pole with a heavy round bulb at its tip, decorated with a spray of green-brown streamers. Noting that the bulb looked hollow, Laney lifted a foot and stamped on it. A puff of cloudy gas shot out, making her jump.
“Bull kelp,” said an older man strolling nearby. “It makes a nice salad, believe it or not.”
Laney did not. “Interesting,” she replied with a smile.
“Is this your first time to Tofino?” the older woman with him asked politely.
“Yes, it is,” she answered. “It’s all very foreign to a Missourian.”
The couple laughed. “I’m sure it would be,” the man said. “We’ve got nothing like bull kelp in Montana either. But we love the ocean, and compared to home, this is nice and warm, right?”
Montana. The images crowded into Laney’s consciousness, unbidden, unrelenting. Everything around her was white. Falling snow, drifting snow, blowing snow. Where was the freakin’ road? She had followed a truck for hours, staring at its dirty bumper, praying the driver could see landmarks she couldn’t. She was running low on gas, so she’d turned off the heater. It was hard to steer with mittens, but no harder than with numb hands. Why the hell was she even doing this? Because she had to see them—
Laney blinked at the friendly white-haired couple before her, confused. She had come here to see them? No… another couple. A couple she didn’t know. A couple who could ruin her life—
Stop it! She fought to return her thoughts to the present. She was supposed to answer something, but she had no idea what. “Do you come here often?” she asked instead.
“Nearly every winter,” the woman answered cheerfully. “The cold gets harder to take every year, you know. I say we should just move to Texas. Galveston is nice.”
“You don’t want to move to Texas,” the man returned crossly, indicating a debate of longstanding. He nodded to Laney. “Well, you have a good vacation, young lady.”
She agreed, wished them the same, and moved on, at which point her thoughts shot straight back to drifting snow. Stop! The memories seemed clearer now, closer. If she tried to remember more, she believed that she could. But she didn’t want to.
The snow delay would cost her extra. She had to get to Ucluelet. The sooner she got there, the sooner she could leave. The horrible thing—
Not yet! Not now!
She stopped walking and looked out over the water again, finding Jason. Thinking about him was problematic too, but it was an infinitely more pleasant problem. She threw him a gratuitous wave, along with her best smile. He waved back.
“Hey, Jason!” a female voice called out cheerfully from nearby. Laney turned to see a ridiculously buxom woman just pulling the hood of her figure-revealing wetsuit over a head of chestnut curls. The woman grabbed her surfboard from the sand, tucked it under an arm, and headed off into the waves toward him.
Laney groaned. She didn’t even know which of them Jason had waved at! She was desperate for distraction, yes, but she could only go so low before losing all self-respect.
Brisk exercise, perhaps? She increased her pace and began a determined march to nowhere. She had progressed all of ten paces when she passed a family with two little kids. The girl was wearing mittens with a big red heart on the back of each hand.
So miserably sad…
She felt a chilling wave of desperation. Was she going insane? What was there about a simple, innocent red heart that could fill her with such wrenching sorrow?
She was hunting for something in her Gran’s linen closet. She had a pillow—
Laney clapped her hands to her temples. She could stop it, yes. But for how long? A feeling of despair swamped her as she realized that she might as well be fighting the tide. Her memory had already recovered itself. The horrible thing was coming back, whether she liked it or not. It was only a matter of time.
“Laney!” She heard Jason’s voice and turned. He was riding into the beach, waving in her direction. Ben was splashing through the whitewater after him. They were both coming in.
Thank God. Maybe she’d get a little reprieve.
She was lying on the floor of the kitchen, crying. Her cheek was pressed against the cold tile. Her heart was in pieces, ripped, ragged, torn, empty—
She broke into a run.
***
Jason wasn’t sure what had brought on Laney’s bout of rampant enthusiasm, but he liked it. She seemed eager to see him — or maybe them — and he was delighted that she’d seemed to really enjoy watching him — or them — surf. But the closer her jogging feet brought her, the more he questioned why she was hurrying at all.
She didn’t seem right. She looked less than fashionable in her dowdy sweats, winter coat and hat, and cheap sunglasses, but he was used to that. What wasn’t right was her expression. She was too pale, too tense. And as she drew up to them and pulled back her sunglasses, he could see that her eyes were strangely bright.
Clearly, she was upset about something.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Of course,” she replied shortly. “And how are you two? Is it tiring to surf for so long?”
“Tiring? Never,” he insisted. “Sheer ecstasy.”
“Speak for yourself, Buchanan,” Ben laughed, pulling off his hood. His wavy reddish hair responded by sticking out from his head in all directions. “I’m exhausted.”
Laney looked like she was fighting a snicker.
Ben reached up a hand to tame his tresses. “I have serial-killer hair again, don’t I?”
She cracked up. “It’s cute.”
Jason pulled his own hood back. His curls could get pretty wild, too. But she didn’t seem to notice. She seemed only half present, despite her attentions to Ben. “Let’s get something to drink,” he suggested, moving toward their stashed cooler.
“Yesss,” Ben said with appreciation, beating him to the cooler and promptly pulling out a water bottle.
Laney tagged along with them. She was practically prancing with nervousness… or so
mething. Jason wondered if she’d accidentally ingested a six-pack of Red Bull.
“I really enjoyed watching you guys,” she chattered uncharacteristically. “It was fascinating. I’ve never thought about the mechanics of surfing before, but now I can see it’s fairly complicated. Were those typically sized waves for here? How does the wind play into it? And also I was thinking, doesn’t the direction the waves are coming from affect where the best spots are?”
Jason smiled with inward satisfaction as he pulled off his gloves. Whatever she’d been smoking, it did have some desirable effects. Usually after a woman watched him surf, she complimented his skill. Only Laney would use the occasion to prompt a discussion of ocean physics.
He dug his cell phone out of his bag, clicked into his surfing forecast app, and handed the device over. “Check it out,” he encouraged.
Laney’s eyes locked on the screen with interest. She removed her mittens and sat down with the phone on a log. Jason joined Ben in getting a drink, watching her with amusement.
“This is amazing,” she said after a moment. “Surf height, swell, wind speed and direction, tide, buoys… and the charts! Who does all this? They must employ meteorologists. This is some pretty sophisticated computer modelling.”
“It takes a team of professional forecasters,” Jason agreed, sitting down beside her. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with a female human. He knew women who cared about the surf forecasts, but none had ever given a rip how they were produced. “Meteorologists, for sure, but also experts in ocean physics, geographic data sets, and of course… a thorough understanding of surfing itself…”
He kept talking, because she kept listening. Listening, understanding, and asking questions. It was ranking right up there as one of the most enjoyable conversations of his life — academic conversations, anyway — when they were interrupted by a good-natured snort from Ben.
“And people call me a science nerd?” he said with an eye roll. “You two are unbelievable. Can we get off the diurnal wind patterns and the tropically influenced pulses and talk about getting some lunch, please?”
Jason chuckled. “Says the PhD candidate in oceanography?”
“Ocean chemistry,” Ben corrected. “I don’t do physics, at least not if I can help it. But I could definitely do with a cheeseburger. Are we done now?”
Laney laughed and rose. She handed Jason his phone back. Was he imagining it, or did he detect a new sparkle in her cornflower blue eyes? “Thanks,” she said sweetly. “I’ll have to look at it all a little more closely later.”
He rose with her. He was about to inform her of just how much he would enjoy that when they were interrupted. “Hey, Jason!” a female voice called out cheerfully from down the beach.
He looked over to see one of the cashiers from the co-op who’d been flirting with him for a while now. He’d ruled her out because she was on the rebound from a failed engagement. Rebound flings, though conveniently short-lived, were too emotional for his tastes. But she was a nice person, light-hearted and fun to be around.
He cast a quick glance at Laney, not certain how she was reacting to the number of women who generally greeted him on the beaches. He wanted to know if she felt any jealousy… just out of curiosity. But her reaction, if any, was muted. Her expression showed nothing.
“Hey, Jessica!” he called back.
He caught Laney’s movement out of the corner of his eye. He swung around to find her eyes glassy, her complexion white. Her shoulders had drawn up tightly, as if she were flinching from a blow. In the next second, she swayed on her feet.
“Good God,” Ben exclaimed, jumping toward them.
But Jason was closer. He lunged and stretched out his arms.
An unconscious Laney slumped into them.
Chapter 17
Laney opened her eyes to see two handsome male faces staring at her with concern. They were above her, and she was sprawled across Jason’s lap leaning against his arm. All of which was strange, because she’d been standing upright not two seconds ago.
“I’m all right,” she insisted, knowing nothing of the kind. “I just…” Her voice trailed off. She had no idea how to finish. She struggled to sit up, and Jason helped her right herself. His touch was both strong and gentle, and she’d be tempted to swallow her pride and cuddle right back in if he weren’t clad in clammy wet neoprene. “What happened?” she asked finally, perplexed.
“You tell us,” Jason replied, his expression disturbingly grave. You just passed out — dropped like a rock for no apparent reason. I think we should take you back to the ER, have them check—”
“Oh, no!” Laney protested. “No way am I racking up more Canadian medical bills! I’m fine now, I’m sure.”
Ben’s expression was equally concerned. “Laney, you really can’t know—”
“What happened, Jase?” asked a third voice. “Is she okay?” Laney looked behind Ben’s shoulder to see a woman watching them tentatively. The tall, pretty brunette was wearing a tight-fitting jacket and yoga pants.
“She’s good,” Jason replied, his eyes still on Laney. “No worries.” He didn’t sound unworried, but he did sound dismissive.
“Okay,” the woman replied unhappily, backing away. “Just checking.”
Jason looked up. Seeming to regret his tone, he smiled and called after her. “Thanks, Jess.”
Jessica.
Reality hit Laney with a wholesale memory dump. It was all back. It had come back when she’d heard the name.
“Laney!” Ben said with distress, waving a hand before her face. “Are we losing you again?”
Jason swept in with another arm around her back, and it took all her remaining willpower not to lean into his chest like a baby.
“I’m okay,” she insisted. But behind Ben’s wild hair, the ocean horizon rocked slightly. “At least I will be in a second.”
“We’re taking you to the ER,” Jason proclaimed.
“No, you are not!” Laney said testily. “Please, don’t worry about me. It wasn’t the head injury. It was just…” Oh, what the hell? “I got my memory back. All at once, actually. It was a little disorienting, that’s all.”
The men exchanged a look. “You remember why you came here?” Jason asked.
Laney nodded. She didn’t want to talk about it.
“Do you remember the accident?” Ben questioned.
She considered a moment. “No. I think… well the last thing I remember is riding on the ferry. From Vancouver.” It had been fascinating, watching the car ramp pull up and then feeling the chugging of the engine as the craft floated out to sea. She smiled vaguely. The water had been so blue. She’d never been on that big a boat before. She’d rarely been on any boat before.
But then the smile left her. “My car definitely died in Vancouver. It had been making ominous noises for a while, but then it just jumped and stalled, right in the middle of an intersection. I couldn’t get it into gear. It was a nightmare; people honking… I had to have it towed. The mechanic helped me figure out how to get the rest of the way to Tofino using busses and the ferry.”
“The ferry ride would have been just a few hours before you hit your head, so that makes sense.” Jason stared at her closely again. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Physically, at least?”
Laney decided to prove the point. She shook herself free of his hold — regrettably — and pulled herself to her feet. The movement wasn’t smooth, but she made it. “Tada. All better.”
The men looked equally skeptical.
“I do think I might go back to my room and lie down awhile,” Laney offered, hoping to appease them. She also wanted — she realized suddenly — to be alone.
Jason and Ben exchanged a glance. “All right,” Jason said finally, stepping closer.
Laney looked at the stairs, but the deck was crowded with people. She headed for the path instead.
“Good choice,” Ben teased. “If you fall before we can catch you, it’ll be s
ofter on your skull.”
“Thanks,” Laney returned. She wanted to laugh, but her insides were devoid of mirth. She began to walk, with both men following close behind her. They were being so sweet. She wished she could be the same, light-hearted person they’d had dinner with last evening, but with sadness wrapped around her middle like a lead weight, she knew that wasn’t possible.
Jessica Nicole Macdonald.
How very convenient that she should forget that name, along with all its horrors. The brain did have amazing powers, did it not? And to think she’d even managed to be happy for a while… to have a little fun!
“Still feeling okay?” Jason asked as the path steepened.
“Stellar,” she lied. He had such a nice voice. So smooth and caring… not to mention sexy. Why couldn’t her amnesia have lasted a little longer? If she was a real, normal person and not some dead girl’s ghost, maybe they could—
No way. Not even then. What’s his ex count up to now, anyway?
“You look pale,” Jason proclaimed with a grumble.
“It’s winter,” she returned, embarrassed by her increasing breathlessness. Concussion or no concussion, she was sadly out of shape. The long months spent at her mother’s bedside had done her body no favors. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the main door of the lodge, wiped her shoes dutifully on the mat, and stepped inside.
Jason didn’t follow. He and Ben were still wearing full wetsuits, and Ben was toting a cooler. She remembered that the changing area and equipment room were accessed by another entrance. “Thanks for keeping my skull intact,” she said, trying hard to exude false cheer.
She was pretty sure neither of them bought it.
“I hope you’re feeling better soon,” Ben said genuinely. “I’m headed back to Victoria right after lunch to meet Haley at the airport, so this is goodbye. But it’s been a delight.”