Without a Past

by Debra Salonen

  They traveled a bit farther before Harley spoke. “So how’s business these days? Is the coffee parlor doing as well as you’d hoped?”

  Andi sighed. She could lie, but why bother? He knew every other aspect of her life. “It’s holding its own, but my main problem is a glut of slow-moving merchandise. Ida Jane used to be an astute businesswoman, but before I took over she bought a couple of lots of antiques at auction that weren’t worth what she paid for them. Now I’m having trouble unloading them.”

  “Maybe you need a new approach. I’m no expert, but it seems to me that the Old Bordello Antique Shop is mired in obsolescence.”

  “We sell antiques,” Andi said, aware of the defensive tone in her voice. “Old is what we do.”

  “But obviously you’re aware of better marketing strategies. Sam told me about your ghost tours. And the addition of the coffee shop is brilliant.” He smiled at her and continued, “I was wondering about the Internet. Maybe you could list certain items on an auction site, like eBay. Do you have a Web site?”

  Andi sat up a little straighter. “I looked into the idea when I first moved home, but Ida Jane flatly refused to discuss it. And when I found out how much it would cost to upgrade our wiring, I sorta put the idea on hold till I’d managed to improve the cash flow.”

  She made a derisive sound. “Like that happened. But the bottom line is the old bordello is Ida’s store—not mine, and she wants it kept just the way it is.” She rubbed her eyebrow with a knuckle. “Besides, my first priority is a new roof.”

  “That’s too bad,” he said. “If you can’t find your footing in the new economy, you’ll be vulnerable. Particularly if someone decided to go after the land the old bordello is sitting on.”

  Andi would have swung around to face him squarely if not for the dog on her lap. “What are you talking about?”

  His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “Big money is moving into Gold Creek.” His forehead crinkled; the corner of his lips turned down. “My father pointed out a story in the Sacramento Bee that your local newspaper didn’t bother to cover.

  “Someone with ties to big business is buying up parcels around town. Didn’t you say Ida Jane had been approached about selling the bordello?”

  She swallowed. “A form letter from some company I’d never heard of. I threw it in the trash.”

  “Some of your neighbors are taking the offers.”

  He rattled off a couple of names. Longtime residents. Friends. A sizzle of fear raced through her. She felt as though she’d been on patrol and just learned that the enemy had struck behind her line. “Do you know this for sure?”

  The dubious tone in her voice must have ticked him off because he answered, “No, but my dad was a newspaper publisher. I think you can trust his instincts, if you don’t trust mine.”

  She winced. “I’m sorry. Maybe I just don’t want to believe this stuff. I have heard rumors at the Chamber of Commerce meetings, but small towns are a hotbed of gossip and speculation.”

  The hard line of his lips softened. After a minute, he said, “Andi, about what we were discussing earlier—you were right to assume the worst about me based on what you read in my bio. But something changed last night.”

  He took a deep breath. “I can’t make any promises until we find out who murdered Lars, but once that’s settled I plan to stick around. I’m not going to Florida.”

  He cares about me.

  Suddenly, the future seemed steeped in possibilities. She couldn’t wait to get to the ranch to discuss this turn of events with her sisters. They’d tell her if she was crazy to bet her heart in such a risky gamble.

  WHEN HE TURNED OFF the muddy access road that linked to the highway, Harley made a decision. He would ask people to call him Jonathan. This interlude in the mountains had shown him one thing—he could run, but he couldn’t hide.

  He was Jonathan Jackson Newhall. He had a life. And while he didn’t remember every aspect of it, he knew the only way to find relief from his recurring headaches was to make peace with his past.

  He couldn’t simply ignore the real world. His bail bond was real. The murder charges were real. His feelings for Andi were real, too.

  He just wasn’t sure what to do about them. He’d told her he wasn’t leaving. But that had been Harley speaking. A man like JJ Newhall who’d been on the go that much couldn’t possibly have felt bound to any one place. The new Jonathan preferred the sense of connection he’d felt as Harley; he wanted to put down roots. But could he make that happen?

  When she’d visited him at the jail, Dr. Franklin told him he might never completely recover the “factual” memory of his life prior to the accident.

  “In my opinion,” she’d told him, “you’ll never be exactly the same person you used to be.”

  She’d offered the assessment apologetically. And for a moment, he’d felt a shaft of fear. But now he was ready to accept the doctor’s prognosis. He was a hybrid—Harley and Jonathan—but since the record of his life on the planet was under the name Jonathan Newhall, that’s the name he would use.

  “The vet’s office is just ahead on the right side of the road,” Andi yelled over the engine noise.

  He nodded and put on the blinker.

  “I wonder how much this is going to cost.”

  He detected a certain apprehension in her voice. “I’ll pay for it. He’s my uncle’s dog.”

  It felt odd to say the words, but good.

  “Are you sure?”

  He recalled an earlier conversation with the man his father had said was Jonathan’s accountant. The voice had meant nothing to him, but the cheerful fellow had offered a glowing report about Jonathan’s financial situation. “Yes. I’ll pay the bill. But what are we going to do with him once he’s released? They don’t allow pets at the motel. Can he stay with you?”

  “I suppose so. But he won’t like town life. He’s used to chasing his dinner and baying at the moon. My neighbors—and their cats—won’t care for that.”

  Jonathan had to wait for oncoming traffic to pass before he could turn.

  “Maybe Sam would keep him,” Andi suggested.

  Jonathan couldn’t picture the hound on the Rocking M. A mob of small, all-business Queensland heelers ruled that roost. Sarge wouldn’t fit in there either.

  The small, spotlessly clean clinic had a rural-neighborhood look about it. Jonathan carried Sarge to an examination room where a friendly, young assistant took over. While Andi filled out the necessary papers in the ante-room of the clinic, Jonathan thought about the man who was his uncle.

  After Jonathan’s accident, Lars had nursed him through blinding headaches and bouts of nausea with amazing patience. In the evenings—after a couple of joints and a few slugs of whiskey—Lars would rant in detail about the government’s secret experiments on GIs. But beneath the paranoia and free-floating anxiety was a lonely human being.

  Andi took a seat beside him on the vinyl-upholstered bench. There were no other people waiting, and the clerk at the desk was working at her computer.

  “Did Lars ever mention his sister?”

  Andi’s question seemed to come out of the blue, but it paralleled his line of thought. “Are you a mind reader?” Jonathan asked. “I was just thinking about him.”

  “You had a forlorn look on your face—like Sarge.”

  He gave her the smile she was fishing for. “Lars didn’t talk about his past. I got the impression he’d lost touch with his family. When I told him the Internet could help him look for lost loved ones, he clammed up, mumbling something about government spies.”

  She scooted a little bit closer and said under her voice, “You know, for a hermit, Lars had an awfully big box of condoms.”

  Jonathan nearly choked on his laugh. Would there ever be a time when he could predict what might come out of her mouth? “Lars told me the veteran’s hospital gave him all kinds of freebies. He loved the idea of sticking it to Uncle Sam.”

  For some reason, the colo
r drained from her face. “When was the last time he visited the hospital? Do condoms have expiration dates? Why wouldn’t they? Rubber bands go bad in the drawer. I have things popping loose all the time.”

  It took him a minute to figure out that she was afraid one of the condoms they’d used might have failed. Which meant this probably wasn’t the right time to remind her they’d actually forgotten to use protection when they’d made love just before dawn—both of them too into the moment to stop.

  “I’m sure everything’s fine,” he said. “Worst-case scenario we have to get married.”

  She shot him a look of pure shock. And, he decided, horror.

  “That’s not the worst case these days,” she said pointedly. “Do you think we should contact the local health department to get tested?”

  His pulse quickened, pain blossomed in his head. What if I slept around and just haven’t found those memories yet? I could have given her something bad. Something deadly.

  “Harley. Breathe. Relax. Let it go. I’m sure the condoms were fine. I’m not terribly experienced in these matters, but we’d have known, right? I overreacted. I’m sorry.”

  But what if…

  Suddenly, the answer came to him. At least he hoped it was a real memory. He’d had a checkup before going to Missouri. He’d wanted a clean bill of health before he settled down to be a publisher and married man.

  “I…it’s okay…I saw a doctor last September. Right before I…decided to take a cross-country trip on a motorcycle. Honest.” He held up his hand. “No diseases of any kind, but you still might be pregnant.”

  She’d just let go a long sigh then suddenly froze. “What do you mean?”

  “Early morning. First light. Not quite awake…”

  Her eyes grew large, and her mouth dropped open.

  The vet chose that minute to step out of the examination room—without Sarge. He addressed them both. “Sarge is going to be fine, but there’s a tender spot in his tummy, and I’d like to make sure his spleen is okay. Can I keep him over the weekend?”

  “Sure,” Andi answered, scooting past Jonathan without touching him. “Call the bordello when—”

  Jonathan interrupted her. “We may have met at the Rocking M, but my memory isn’t too good,” he said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m Jonathan Newhall. I’m staying at the Mountain Comfort Inn at the moment, but I’ll call Monday to see how he’s doing.”

  After they exchanged polite chitchat, Jonathan gave the clerk his credit card and signed on the dotted line. He could sense Andi’s impatience, but he wasn’t sure if she was in a hurry to get to the ranch or to finish their conversation.

  “Thank you,” he called as he followed Andi out the door. “Take good care of our boy.”

  To his surprise, they drove to the Rocking M without speaking. But as soon as he reached the first set of cattle guards, Jonathan made a decision. He pulled off the road and parked.

  “Harley, I have to hurry. Jen’s expecting me…”

  “This will just take a minute. We need to get something settled.”

  The morning sun made the highlights in her hair sparkle. There was a glow about her that shouted life and vitality. But her green eyes looked wary. “What?”

  He took the plunge. “I love you.”

  She looked speechless. When she tried to talk, words tumbled out. “I…you…probably safe time…never regular like Jenny, but…really?”

  He waited to see if any more words were coming, then he answered what appeared to be the only question. “Yes, really.”

  “You’re not just saying that because we slept together and there’s a minute chance I might be pregnant?”

  He shook his head.

  She took a deep breath then let it out. “I don’t believe you. I know you’re attracted to me, the feeling is mutual. And you’re too good a man not to care for me. And granted, we’re amazing together in bed. But love? I don’t think so.”

  Her logic reminded him of someone from his past, but he couldn’t risk a headache by thinking too hard. “I could prove it to you.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know exactly. But I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  She didn’t break eye contact with him, so he knew she was both skeptical and intrigued. A heartbeat later, she said, “Well, unless you can accomplish that in five minutes, I’m going to be late for my sister’s wedding rehearsal. And she’ll kill me, so it’ll become a moot point.

  “Step on the gas. Now.”

  “ANDI, thank God,” Jenny cried, rushing up to the door of the truck before Andi could get it open. “Kristin and Ida will be here any minute, and I wanted time to prepare you.”

  Andi lowered her feet to the graveled driveway. Her sister had flown out of the house the instant the truck approached the gated yard, practically stumbling over the newly planted primroses along the walk. “Jen, what’s wrong? Are you upset that I didn’t come home last night? The roads were—”

  Jenny shook her head. “No, It’s not that. Or Rosemarie—although the tow-truck driver just talked to Sam and he said she’s not worth saving.”

  “Oh, no,” Andi cried. “What will I tell Ida Jane?”

  Jenny waved her arm as if the prospect of telling Ida Jane that her beloved car was history was immaterial. “Jenny, what the heck is wrong with you?”

  Her sister stomped her foot. She looked at Jonathan, who’d joined them. “I’m trying to explain. Kristin came home last night. I’d called her on her cell phone after you phoned, so she’d know that Mrs. McCloskey was staying with Ida until she got there. She said she was bringing along a surprise.

  “Then Ida Jane called half an hour later. And, Andi, she wasn’t making any sense. I thought she’d had a stroke or was flipping out.” She paused dramatically. “She told me that Kristin had brought her little boy to visit.”

  Andi stopped breathing. An odd pressure built in her sinuses and moisture welled in her eyes. “Her what?”

  “Her son. Andi, Kristin has a child. And she never told us.”

  Jenny looked close to tears, too. Andi inhaled and swallowed the lump in her throat. “For real?”

  Jenny nodded, sniffling. Then suddenly they were in each other’s arms, weeping. Andi didn’t know why she was crying. A child was a good thing. But keeping a baby a secret from your family? How could Kris have done that? Why would she?

  When they broke apart a few seconds later, Jonathan was still there, a look of sympathy on his face. Andi took his hand, grateful for his concern. With her free hand, she wiped her eyes and faced her sister. “What did she tell you? When? How old is he? Where’s the father?”

  Jenny shook her head. “She said she’d explain everything today. That she wanted to introduce him to us in person. And that last night, she wanted him to spend time getting to know Ida Jane.”

  Andi was overwhelmed. Life seemed totally out of control. One sister was getting married the next day. Her other sister showed up for the wedding with a child in tow. And Andi had a little secret of her own. She was in love.

  She decided this wasn’t the time to break the news about Jonathan. There would be time after the wedding—if he was serious. If he stayed in Gold Creek. If he really did love her.

  That terrifying, amazing, tantalizing thought was cut short when Kristin’s compact station wagon pulled into the yard and parked a few feet away. Andi counted heads. Just two that she could see—Kris and Ida Jane.

  Kristin jumped out and hurried around to help their aunt. Neither Andi nor Jenny seemed capable of movement. Andi still hadn’t let go of Jonathan’s hand.

  Ida took a few minutes to collect her purse and cane then she started toward them. Jenny responded by dashing to her side to provide a little extra assistance. Just as they started to walk toward the house, the rear passenger-side door opened and a boy—about 10 years old—unfolded lanky legs clad in sloppy black pants and stood up.

  “Holy sh….”

  Jonathan pulled her close, whispering someth
ing gentle and reassuring in her hair. His support helped her regain her composure. This child was her nephew. Kristin’s son.

  “This is gonna get messy,” she whispered.

  Jonathan flicked his finger under her chin and gave her a smile. “Life always is.”

  “But…” she tried to explain.

  He shifted his eyes so she would look to her left. Kristin and the boy were standing a foot away.

  Kris’s hand rested protectively on her son’s narrow shoulder. She said, “Zach, love, this is your Aunt Andrea. Everybody calls her Andi.”

  The boy kept his gaze on the ground. His white-blond hair was cut razor close around his neck and halfway up his skull, but the long upper locks hung in messy disarray over his high forehead. He was Kristin’s clone without any of her bright, soft cuddliness.

  “Zach? As in Zachary?”

  “Zachariah,” Kris answered. “It means the Lord’s remembrance.”

  The boy made a disparaging sound, but no words materialized from his lips.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Zach,” Andi said, mouthing the word finally to her sister. “This is Jonathan. Some people call him Harley, but his real name is Jonathan. And that’s the name he wants to use.” He’d made it clear at the vet’s office.

  Jenny returned from helping Ida Jane inside, and Andi saw the look of surprise her sisters exchanged at her announcement. Jonathan let go of her hand to put it out in greeting. The boy looked up but didn’t shake hands. Although his bangs made it hard to see his face clearly, one thing was evident. Instead of Kris’s China blue eyes, her son’s were midnight black and filled with silent anger.

  “Welcome to Gold Creek,” Jonathan said.

  “It’s a sucky town. I’m not gonna move here. I’m going to stay in Ashland even if I have to live with my friends.”

  His small, pointed chin lifted defiantly. For the first time, Andi saw the unusual shape of his eyes—almond and slightly tilted at the corners. Ringed with thick dark lashes, they would have been beautiful if not for the angry squint.