“I thought maybe Dave had brought me around,” he told the foreman.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
That shot down his theory, he supposed. Maybe he’d grown up on a ranch. But where?
He scanned the barn again. So why did he have this feeling of déjà vu? Was his scattered brain playing tricks on him? Maybe. Still, Hernandez wasn’t very forthcoming.
“When did Dave join the Marines?” he asked the foreman.
“About two and a half years ago. He and his father had a big falling out over something or other. And Dave enlisted to spite him.”
“What’d they fight about?”
“Almost everything. But that last time was the worst. And I’m sure Dave was sorry about it afterward.”
“You mean joining the corps?”
“Leaving home, mostly. His father died of a heart attack shortly after Dave finished recruit training. And I think Dave blamed himself for it. Last time he was here, to attend his mother’s funeral, he told me he’d be home soon and wouldn’t ever leave again. He asked me to look out for things until he did. But he hasn’t contacted any of us in quite a while.”
No wonder Chloe was eager to read that letter.
And now Joe was even more curious than ever to know what it said. He and Dave might be buddies, but they hadn’t enlisted at the same time. According to what the sheriff had said, Joe had joined five years earlier.
He stroked his chin, felt the stubble of the beard he hadn’t shaved this morning. That shower he’d been meaning to take after he’d taken his morning pain meds was long overdue.
“Well,” he said to Hernandez, “I’m going to head back to the house. If you start making a list of chores you’d like me to do, I’ll get started on them tomorrow.”
“All right. I’ll do that.”
Joe gave Lola’s neck one last stroke, then strode toward the barn door. He hated not knowing anything about himself. And while he continued to get some fleeting thoughts about his character and things he liked or disliked, he had no idea how to cobble them together.
After entering the living room, he took a moment to survey the leather furnishings, the built-in bookshelf in the far wall, the stone fireplace with photos lining the mantel. When he noticed one of a smiling marine in uniform, he made his way to the hearth so he could take a better look.
He lifted the brass frame and studied the fair-haired man’s image. He wished he could say that he recognized him, but he didn’t.
“That’s Dave,” Chloe said.
Joe turned toward her voice. She stood in the doorway that led down the hall to the bedrooms. The moment their gazes met, he felt another stirring—one that was far more appealing than the scent of leather and hay that had provoked his senses in the barn.
“His mother never understood why he’d joined the service in the first place,” Chloe said. “As the only child, the only son, he knew his father expected him to stay on the ranch and take over someday. But I’ve sensed there was more to it than that. I think he had a blowup with his dad, although he never said anything to me about it.”
Joe took another gander at the photo in his hand.
“Does he look familiar?” Chloe asked.
“No, I’m afraid not.” Joe returned the frame to the mantel.
“Well, you definitely knew him. In his letter, he mentioned that he’d given it to you and asked you to bring it to me.”
“That’s all he had to say?”
She bit down on her bottom lip, as though struggling with the answer. “About you? Yes, that’s all.”
What else had Dave written? The rest of his message had obviously been personal and something she wasn’t eager to share.
Joe figured he didn’t have a right to ask if he could read it himself, although his curiosity was mounting. And so was his interest in what made Chloe tick, an interest that threatened to turn into full-blown attraction if he’d let it.
And maybe it was morphing into that anyway.
Even today, with her white-blond hair pulled into a ponytail that hung down her back and no makeup other than the pink lipstick she had nearly worn off, he found her intriguing.
She wasn’t wearing anything fancy—just faded jeans and a blue, lightweight sweater. Yet she couldn’t hide her wholesome beauty behind a plain Jane facade. Not when those whiskey-colored eyes had zeroed in on him and set his libido on end.
As if unaware of his thoughts, she crossed the room, joined him near the fireplace and reached for the framed photograph he’d just replaced on the mantel. As she stood within touching distance, her faint, lemon-blossom scent aroused more than his interest.
She studied the marine in the photo for a moment. While she did so, Joe studied her—the thick dark lashes, the delicate features of her face, the fullness of her lips...
“After Dave joined the service and his father passed away, his mom was left to run the ranch on her own.” Chloe took one last look at the photo, then returned the frame to its rightful place on the mantel. “When she got sick, I tried my best to help in any way I could, but I didn’t know anything about working on a ranch— although I’m learning.”
“So you’ll wait here until Dave returns home?”
She bit down on her lip again, then gave a slight shrug of her left shoulder. “Since Teresa had provided a home for me when I needed one, I felt a certain obligation to her. So I promised her I’d stay until then.”
Did she feel obligated to Teresa’s son, as well?
Again, Joe shook off the curiosity that plagued him. Well, at least he tried to. There was a lot Chloe had left unsaid, a lot he wanted to know about her. And since his past wasn’t readily available to him, he focused on learning more about hers.
“So where are you from?” he asked.
She smiled wistfully. “Here, there and everywhere.”
He leaned against the mantel, crossed his arms and tossed her a grin to soften his line of questioning. “So you don’t like to be tied down to one place?”
“No, it’s not that at all. My parents are both in the military, so we moved around a lot when I was a kid. I also had to change schools more often than seemed fair. So now that I’m on my own, I want to settle down and create some stability in my life.”
Since she’d mentioned that Mrs. Cummings had taken her in when she’d needed a place to stay, he suspected she’d had a few bad breaks—or trouble at home.
“Do you see your family very often?” he asked.
“I used to try and spend the bigger holidays with them, but I wasn’t able to do that last Christmas because they were stationed in Hawaii. And it looks like I’ll be staying in Brighton Valley again this year, too.”
He had a feeling that she wasn’t happy about it, so he said, “That’s too bad.”
“Do you...” She paused, and her cheeks turned a rosy hue. “I’m sorry. I was going to ask about your family and their holiday traditions.”
He shrugged a single shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I wish I had an answer for you.”
Chloe reached out and touched his arm, sending a pulsing shot of heat through his veins. He glanced down at the delicate fingers that rested on his sleeve and warmed him from the inside out.
She wasn’t wearing any jewelry. But what about her other hand?
He fought the compulsion to check out her left ring finger—something he’d neglected to do earlier. But he didn’t want her to catch him in the act. So he looked into her eyes instead, nearly losing himself in her intoxicating gaze.
“Christmas always makes me homesick,” she said. “My mother really does things up big. Probably to make me and my brothers feel as though we had a real home and more stability in our lives. But I’m stuck here this year. And apparently, you are, too. So we’ll just have to roll with that and creat
e a down-home, country-style Christmas for the two of us. That way, maybe we can help each other make a brand-new memory.”
Her suggestion caught him off guard, although he wasn’t sure why. The fact that his brain was still healing, maybe. And that she’d removed her hand from his arm, stealing the warmth of her touch.
But as she continued to peer into his eyes, to search his expression, to silently plead her case, he gave in. “Sure. Why not?”
He’d been tempted to shake off her offer for more reasons than one. But as he thought about it, he realized that he actually liked the idea of making new memories with Chloe.
* * *
When the buzzer on the dryer sounded, Chloe retrieved the last load of laundry. After folding the small batch of towels and linens, she carried them down the hall to put them away.
Before placing them in the linen closet, she decided to make a quick check of the guest bathroom to make sure there were plenty of clean washcloths for Joe to use.
She reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. The locking mechanism made a click-click sound, but the door swung right open, releasing a bit of steam.
And revealing Joe standing at the counter, his face lathered with shaving cream, his body bare other than a small white towel wrapped around his waist.
Her cheeks warmed. “Oh, my gosh. I’m so sorry. I—”
“It’s okay. I’m practically dressed.”
No, it wasn’t all right. And he was naked underneath that towel. All it would take was one simple little tug at the waist...
Reining in her sexual thoughts, she gathered her wits. “The door. You didn’t lock it.”
“Actually, I did. But apparently it isn’t working.”
Yeah, well... She supposed she could cast the blame on the lock—or on everyone else, including the man in the moon, but that didn’t cool her cheeks. Nor did it hide the handsome man who was a sight to behold.
She swallowed—hard. It was nearly impossible to think, let alone speak, so she nodded, turned and shut the door.
As she put away the folded washcloths into the linen closet, she fought the urge to slip outside and find some chores to do in the yard so she wouldn’t have to return to the house. But that wasn’t feasible. She’d have to go back inside eventually. So she may as well deal with the embarrassment.
Still, just living with Joe here, knowing that he was sleeping down the hall, just two doors away from her bedroom, sent her thoughts scampering in an unexpected direction.
She blew out a ragged sigh. The flash of physical attraction she’d initially felt had magnified and left her feeling awkward and uneasy.
After placing the washcloths on the shelf where they belonged, she returned to the kitchen. It would be lunchtime soon, so she might as well whip up something to eat. She wondered if he’d like a tuna-salad sandwich.
She pulled the can opener from the drawer, a small mixing bowl from the cupboard, and mayonnaise, pickles and celery from the fridge. Then she searched the pantry for a can of tuna. She’d no more than shut the door when Joe said, “The bathroom is free now.”
If she could have gotten away with pretending she hadn’t heard him, she would have done it. As it was, she slowly turned to face him, her cheeks warming all over again.
She glanced down at her feet, willing herself to cool. When she looked back to his freshly shaven face and those striking blue eyes, her breath caught, her heart thumped and her cheeks warmed all over again.
“I’m sorry about walking in on you,” she said. “I should have realized that you might have been in there.”
“Like I said, it wasn’t a big deal. I was covered up.”
Yes, but just barely.
Fortunately, he was dressed now, although in Dave’s clothing. The pants were at least an inch too short, and the T-shirt, which stretched across his broad chest, didn’t hide the rippling muscles underneath.
“I promise to knock next time,” she said.
Joe chuckled. “And I’ll put ‘Repair the Bathroom Lock’ at the top of my to-do list.”
“Good idea.” She offered him an appreciative smile, then turned her back and continued her search for the canned tuna.
Now that she’d seen the handsome marine in the buff—or pretty close to it—fixing that door lock would only solve half her problem because the image of him wearing only a smile and a skimpy towel was engrained in her mind.
And that was one breath-stealing memory she wasn’t likely to forget any time soon.
* * *
Joe couldn’t help enjoying Chloe’s obvious discomfort. In fact, ever since she’d walked in on him shaving—and up until the time they sat down to eat lunch—she seemed to avoid making eye contact with him.
A couple of times, he’d been tempted to tease her, but he decided to let it go. No need to stir up those kinds of sexual thoughts when he wasn’t in any position to do anything about them.
As Chloe stood from her seat at the kitchen table and picked up their empty plates, she asked, “Do you need anything in town?”
Some clothing that actually fit him would be nice. But since he didn’t want to ask any more of her than he had already, he said, “I can’t think of anything. Why?”
“I’m going to visit a friend who’s living in a nursing home near the Brighton Valley Medical Center. Afterward I’m going to stop at the market and run a few errands. I thought, since the sheriff didn’t want you to go into town that I could pick up anything you might need.”
“I can make do with whatever is here.” He just hoped that he and Dave actually were friends. If not, and the guy came home to find Joe staying in his house, wearing his clothes and using his shaving kit, things could become awkward.
“All right,” she said. “I won’t be gone too long. And when I get back, I’ll fix dinner.”
“Is there anything I can do for you while you’re gone?”
“If you happen to see Tomas, will you ask him to bring in the plastic storage boxes filled with Christmas decorations? I think Teresa kept them in the hayloft.”
“I can get them for you.”
“No, I’d rather you took it easy and rested today. Believe me, there’s still going to be plenty for you to do once you’re feeling better.”
“I feel better already.”
“Is that right?” She crossed her arms and tossed him an impish grin. “Then why are you still taking that pain medication?”
“Okay. So I’m not quite back to fighting weight. But I’m definitely better.”
“I have no doubt about that. Still, I’d rather have Tomas bring in the decorations when he has time. I’ll save you for bigger, more important things.”
“Like what?”
She flushed again, and this time he couldn’t resist teasing her. “What’s the problem?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your cheeks are red, and you keep looking at everything except me. Are you that bothered about walking in on me in the bathroom?”
“You’re wrong. It didn’t faze me a bit.”
He didn’t believe her. In fact, he suspected she was still reeling from having seen him half-dressed. And since she seemed to be so flustered by it, he found it a bit flattering. But he didn’t want her to feel awkward about it.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “Those things happen.”
“I’m not.” She stood a little taller and lifted her chin. “It’s a hazard of being blonde and fair. I flush easily—and usually for no reason whatsoever. It’s really no big deal.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
She might claim to be immune to him, but he wasn’t buying it. Still, it was nice to know that her body easily displayed the effects of heating up.
Without any conscious effort on his part, a vision came to mind
—her curvy, fair-skinned body stretched out on his bed sheets, pink and rosy from his caresses, her hair splayed on his pillow, her eyes glazed with passion.
“So,” she said, her voice interrupting his erotic daydream, “since you don’t need anything, I’ll take off and run my own errands. Try and get some rest while I’m gone.”
He’d try, but he doubted he’d get much rest at all, especially if he was plagued with any more sexy visions of her. But on top of that, he also had something that would keep him busy for a while.
“By the way,” he said, “I noticed a computer in the den. Would it be okay if I used it while you were gone?”
Her movements stilled, and her eyes grew wide. “Do you remember how?”
Judging by the way his thoughts had veered off course a few seconds ago, he also remembered how to make love to a beautiful woman. But there was no point in making Chloe any more uncomfortable than she already was.
“I still have all my same abilities,” he said. “The only thing I’ve forgotten is the past.”
“What do you plan to use the computer for?”
Something told him that he was a man who kept his thoughts and tactics close to the vest. But Chloe didn’t appear to be suspicious, just curious. So he would let her in on his plan. “I’m going to search for clues about who I really am—not that I even know the first place to start looking.”
“Good idea. I’ll get you logged in. Then, when I come home, maybe you can share some new information with me.”
Sure, he thought. I’ll share with you, just as soon as you share that letter with me. But he smiled and kept that thought to himself.
He followed her to the den, where she set him up on an old desktop device that looked as though it was about to give up the ghost. Joe had no reason to suspect that he was any big computer whiz, but he could easily see that the PC was out-of-date. He couldn’t recall having any expertise in technology or electronics, but he’d seen the fancy Geekon laptops that the nursing staff had used at the medical center.
There’d been something about the brand name that had struck a chord and triggered a feeling of familiarity. But he hadn’t said anything to anyone about that. Why get excited about something he still couldn’t put his finger on?
Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas GiftThe Soldier's Holiday HomecomingSanta's Playbook Page 26