Chance McCall

by Sharon Sala

  Jenny sensed his increased agitation. She stepped back in shock. What was the fear she was seeing on his face? He turned his head away from her and closed his eyes. Her heart sank.

  She forgot to be calm. She forgot to be quiet. “What? What is it?” He was blaming her for the accident! He was going to hate her forever!

  He turned and stared. Blankly…horrified.

  And then nurses were at the bedside. “What’s happened? What did you say? What have you done?” Their accusing stares weakened her knees.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered, and wrapped her arms around herself in panic. “All of a sudden he just withdrew…like he’d never seen me before. I don’t know why…” Her heart stopped. She looked into the face of his fear. And then she knew. His thoughts came through as clearly as if he’d just spoken aloud.

  Jenny took a deep breath, reached down and took his hand. He flinched but allowed the touch.

  “Do you know where you are?” she asked.

  He hesitated. Admitting his fears aloud was as frightening as knowing that they were there. He finally answered.

  “No.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Jenny asked. That he hesitated sent her hopes plummeting.

  “No,” he muttered, and slipped his fingers out of her hand.

  “Dear God,” she said, and sank down onto the chair by his bed. She shuddered, trying desperately to hide her fear and dismay from him, aware that even in his confusion he was looking to her for strength. Unaware of the doctor’s arrival behind her, she continued, taking a deep breath as blue eyes locked with brown, each reading the panic on the other’s face.

  “Do you know who you are?” Jenny whispered. Her heart broke as he shuddered, letting out one long sigh as he answered.

  “No.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, and wiped the beads of sweaty panic away from his forehead. “I do.”

  He closed his eyes, briefly relishing her cool, familiar touch on his forehead in a world where there were suddenly no constants.

  “My name is Jenny Tyler. And you, Chance McCall, are the man who saved my life.”

  Jenny watched in despair as a single tear slipped from the corner of his eye and ran beside a new bruise and an old scar. I’m afraid it’s going to take a lot more than bandaids to fix this hurt, my love, she thought.

  Dr. Walker slipped his hand on her shoulder and patted her as he spoke. “This is not uncommon you know. Now Jenny, once again, I’d like for you to wait outside while I examine this fellow.”

  She nodded, resisted the urge to lean down and press a kiss against the bitter twist at the corner of Chance’s mouth, and walked away.

  The glass door of the ICU closed behind her. She staggered down the hallway, leaning weakly against the wall as she fought back rage at the unjustness of this new development. But, just as suddenly as she felt despair, she found relief.

  “Well! I just wasn’t as specific as I should have been with my prayers,” she muttered to herself as she dug around in her purse for change. “I asked God to let him live. And he did.” She headed down the hall toward a pay phone.

  He heard her footsteps as she came out of the elevator and began the long walk down the tiled hallway toward his room. Over the past few weeks, her walk had become as distinctive to him as her voice, her scent, and her touch. His heart skipped a beat and a familiar panic welled before he turned to face the mirror over the sink. He leaned forward and braced himself as he stared at the reflection of a stranger’s face. The muscles in his arms corded and flexed as his fingers gripped the cold porcelain. The door opened behind him. He shuddered and sighed, then pivoted.

  “Are you ready?” Jenny asked. She didn’t know who was more nervous. His nostrils flared at her question but his stare never wavered.

  Chance was coming home today. But Jenny knew that he was not happy about the news. The hospital was the only familiar thing in his world and she was taking him away from it.

  Dr. Walker came into the room and saw the look of distrust on his patient’s face. His heart went out to the big man. It would be hard to go on pure faith that everything one had been told in the past few weeks was the truth. It was a lot to ask when a man didn’t even recognize himself in the mirror. But it was time for the next step and that meant getting back into the real world.

  “Well, son,” he said, “I can’t say I’m sorry to see you go. After all, when I send one out of here walking, I’ve done my job.” Jonah Walker chuckled at his own wit and combed his fingers through his hair. “You’ve got a big job ahead of you, boy. You don’t need to worry about anything except a slow recuperation at your boss’s expense. Everything else will come back to you when it’s time. Memories are funny things. Sometimes they have their own reasons for hiding. It’s all up to you…and this little lady here.” He gestured toward Jenny. “Whether you know it or not, she’s a big part of the reason you came back to us.”

  Chance nodded slowly and let his gaze rake over the woman who stood silently beside the doctor. Finally he held out his hand.

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Jonah said. “You all right?” He sensed the nervousness in Chance’s handshake.

  Chance took a deep breath. He glanced around the small room, relishing the comfortable familiarity. His gaze collided with blue fire staring at him, willing him to answer. He knew that no matter what he discovered when he left, it would be all right as long as she was there.

  “Yes,” he answered quietly. “I’m just fine, Doc.” His gut pulled sharply as he caught the woman’s smile of relief. He wasn’t sure what she’d meant to him in the past, but he damn sure knew what she meant to him now. She was his lifeline. And he wasn’t about to let go.

  6

  “Welcome home,” Jenny said. She parked the car in front of the main house. The confusion on Chance’s face was obvious. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I know nothing looks familiar, but give yourself time. It will come, I know it.”

  “I lived here?”

  Chance stared. The Spanish-style rounded archways and red tiled roof sprawled out in all directions. The house spelled money. He didn’t have to remember his name to see that.

  Jenny looked away. She hadn’t expected him to question her plans to install him in a guest room in their house.

  “Not exactly,” she began, “but I thought that it would be better if…”

  “Take me where I belong.”

  The tone of his voice could not be denied. She bit her lip to keep from arguing and started the car, backed away from the driveway, and drove toward the bunkhouse.

  Chance relaxed. They’d already explained his status on the ranch as that of foreman. He had no intention of jeopardizing it by being housed where he didn’t belong. He watched as they approached a small, frame building that looked as if, once upon a time, it’d had a single coat of whitewash. Now it was as colorless as the Texas dirt upon which it stood. A group of men were waiting on the porch. From the expressions on their faces, they were waiting for him.

  “Man, we’re sure glad to see you back, boss.”

  He stepped out of the car, took a deep breath, and smiled awkwardly. Boss! The word sounded strange. And there was no use putting off the fact that he didn’t remember a damn one of their names.

  “As you’ve probably already been told,” Chance said, “what sense I ever had has been kicked out of me. You’ll have to give me some time until I can learn your names all over again.”

  One small moment of silence met his announcement and then one of the men answered and had them all laughing with relief.

  “Hell, boss. It don’t matter what you call us. We’ve all been damned idiots so long, we’ll answer to that.”

  “Welcome home, boy,” Henry said. “Come on inside. I’ll show you where you bunk.” He waved to disperse the crowd of ranch hands. “Marcus ain’t payin’ you to flap your jaws, boys. Go find somethin’ to do.”

  At Henry’s orders, they disappeared
, relieved that the initial meeting between them and Chance was over.

  Jenny saw instant rapport flash between the two men. It hurt. Chance didn’t remember Henry, but it was obvious that the trust was instantly there. It made his distance from her all the more painful.

  “I’m going back to the house,” she said. “When you’ve had a chance to settle, you’re both to come to dinner tonight. And don’t argue. You’ll have to answer to Juana, not me, so wipe that look off your faces right now.”

  She pivoted, grabbed his bags from the car, all but threw them on the porch, and drove away in a cloud of dust.

  Chance stared. What had set her off like that?

  Henry sighed. He could see Jenny’s suffering. And he knew what it had taken for her to give Chance some space.

  “Come on, boy. Let’s take a tour of the residence. It won’t take long. There’s only a couple of rooms to gawk at. Get yourself some rest and then be ready at seven. I’ll walk you up to the house. It don’t pay to argue with the lady. I learned that the hard way years ago.”

  “Did I learn that, too?” Chance asked, grinning slightly at the resigned expression on the old man’s face.

  “Oh, you learned a hell of a lot more than that, boy. I just ain’t gonna spill the beans on what. You’re gonna have to remember them lessons all on your own.”

  Something about the way Henry smiled as he spoke told Chance much more than words could ever have done. He had a feeling that there was a long history between him and the boss’s daughter. He just hoped it was one he could learn to live with.

  “Chance! It’s great to have you home,” Marcus said, as he opened the door.

  Home! The word sounded strange. Nothing felt familiar or even remotely comfortable. He’d spent the entire afternoon going through everything in his quarters, and learned absolutely nothing more than what he’d been told about himself. It was strange that he didn’t have a single, solitary personal memento. No pictures, no letters, no nothing.

  “Thank you, sir,” Chance said, uncomfortable as to how he should address the man he knew was his boss. Marcus Tyler had visited him twice in the hospital. That was all he knew of him.

  “Just call me Marcus. You always have,” he said quietly.

  Chance nodded. Henry pushed past them and scooted into the house.

  “I smell food,” he said. “If my nose don’t deceive me, Juana’s outdone herself in your honor, boy.”

  The two men grinned at each other as Henry hobbled down the hallway toward the dining room, and then Chance swallowed his smile as Jenny appeared.

  She was wearing a soft, white, Spanish-style dress that floated around her body, only hinting at the shapely form beneath. The low-necked yoke was colorfully embroidered with brilliant pink and cool teal. The hem brushed the top of her knees as she walked toward them, drawing the eye instantly to her long, tanned legs.

  Twice Chance started to speak, but each time the words never got past the lump in his throat. My God, but she’s beautiful!

  “Did you bring it?” Jenny asked.

  “What?” Chance asked.

  “Your appetite.” She smiled. “Juana’s been cooking for two days. If you don’t like Mexican food, you better not say so. Just push it around on your plate and fake it.”

  “I don’t know what the hell I like,” he said. “But I’m willing to try just about anything.”

  The words came out meaning one thing, but the look on his face told Jenny he was thinking about an entirely different subject. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her since she’d walked down the hall. If looks fed hunger, he’d already have eaten his fill…of her.

  Marcus watched them—his daughter and the man who’d stolen her heart—and wondered how this mess would ever end. Even before the accident, Chance had made no overtures toward Jenny, at least none of which he’d been aware. Now, with his lack of memory standing between them, how could Jenny ever hope to conquer the extra odds?

  Marcus kept his worries and his thoughts to himself. It was time to play host.

  “Okay,” he said. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m heading for the dining room. Henry’s already got at least a five minute head start and that could mean trouble.”

  They laughed, the tenseness of the moment broken by Marcus’s words.

  “He’s right, you know,” Jenny said, as she slipped her hand in the crook of Chance’s arm. “Come with me. I know where Juana keeps extras just in case.”

  Her hand felt small and trusting…and right. And somehow, Chance made it down the hall, and through the meal without making a fool of himself. It was difficult, because he didn’t want the food that was placed before him. He’d suddenly realized that he wanted something entirely different. He wanted Jenny Tyler.

  It was strange the things that came instinctively. Chance had no problem knowing what needed to be done around the ranch. He would find himself nearly through with a task that he had no recollection of starting, although the first few days he’d done little more than observe. At times he would get light-headed and have to rest. He was constantly frustrated by his lack of endurance, but his physical strength was gradually returning. It was his lack of mental capacity that kept him on edge. He didn’t remember a damn thing before waking up in the hospital and staring into wide blue eyes and the face of an angel.

  The angel might have a sweet face, however it did not match her disposition. She hovered and cajoled, scolded and protected, until he was afraid to zip up his pants without asking permission. Regardless of his annoyance, he still sensed her presence, or heard her coming, long before she would make herself known. For some reason, he’d tuned in to Jenny Tyler and try as he might, could not tune her out. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to. Even if she did ride him for doing too much too soon, there was always that small lilt of anticipation that kicked him in his gut when he heard her voice or saw her smile.

  “Chance! That’s too heavy for you! Let one of the other men finish loading the fencing material.”

  He turned with a frown and dropped the fence posts he’d been carrying back into the bed of the pickup truck.

  “Jennifer Ann, why don’t you find something to do besides wet nurse me? I’ve got enough sense to know if I’ve started something I can’t finish.”

  Jenny’s mouth dropped. He’d called her Jennifer Ann! Even if it was instinctive, it had come from a part of him that she thought she’d lost. Her eyes watered and her chin wobbled as she tried to speak. It was no use. Words wouldn’t come. It didn’t matter. Words were not what she needed as she flew into his arms.

  Chance caught her, but he wasn’t certain why she’d just thrown herself into his arms. All he knew was that it felt right holding her, and that it wasn’t enough.

  “Hell, girl,” he growled. “I’m sorry I was so cranky. But dammit, Jenny…you hover. You’re going to have to let up or I’ll never get anything done.” His voice softened as he felt her arms sliding around his waist. “And, I’m sorry I yelled.”

  “It’s not what you told me. It’s what you called me.” Her voice was muffled against the front of his shirt.

  “Called you? What are you talking—”

  “Jennifer Ann. You called me Jennifer Ann.”

  Adrenaline spiked through him. His arms tightened around her shoulders as he nuzzled the top of her head. Something vague, yet familiar, hung just out of reach of his memory. It was the first hint they’d had that recovery was possible, maybe even imminent.

  “That’s good, isn’t it?” His plea for assurance was as strong as his arms around her shoulders.

  “Yes, Chance, that’s good.” Jenny leaned back and stared into his face. “Life is good.”

  She slid her hands up the front of his shirt and relished the life beating beneath her fingertips. A smear of dust on the corner of his chin caught her eye. She started to wipe it away and then stopped. It was time to let go. He could function with a smear of dirt on his chin. He had before. He would now.

  “So!�
�� she said. “Go back to whatever you were doing. I’m going shopping.”

  He grinned. She’d not only loosened her apron strings, she’d just cut him free. “Thank you, Jenny.”

  She knew what he meant. “You’re welcome, mister. But don’t think that you’re completely off the hook. You’re still going to catch hell if I see you doing something to endanger your health. And, just for the record, that happened before the accident too. Don’t think just because you saved my life that you’re going to get preferential treatment forever.”

  “No, ma’am.” Chance’s smile was broader. She started to walk away. “Hey, Jenny!”

  She turned.

  “When you go shopping…you gonna bring me a surprise?”

  “Why should I? You’re already full of surprises.”

  His laughter followed her all the way to the house.

  “How’s he doing?” Marcus asked, as Jenny came in the door.

  She smiled and shrugged. “His memory’s still shot, but his attitude is normal. He wants me to mind my own business and bring him a present from town.”

  Marcus watched the look of love on his daughter’s face and knew a small moment of jealousy that it was for another man. The emotion was just as strange to Marcus as the thought. His daughter loved him…didn’t she? He shouldn’t worry if she also loved someone else…should he?

  Jenny walked out of the room. He started to call her back, but then stopped. What the hell could he say? Oh Jenny, by the way, do you happen to love me? Or have I wasted my opportunities once too often?

  It was a sobering thought, and one that Marcus had no intention of letting slide. Not this time. Not ever again.

  “Now just because Dr. Walker has pronounced you more or less recovered, doesn’t mean you can fall back into your normal routine,” Jenny said, as she turned into the driveway and headed toward the bunkhouse. Chance glared.