by Maggie Nash
She moved out of the embrace and sat up straight, throwing her legs back over the side of the couch. “You know how it is when you can’t remember an important detail. You can almost see it… It sticks up over the haze just a little, but not enough to recognize it completely. It stays on your mind and drives you crazy all day until it comes to you. That’s how I feel all the time now.”
“Beth,” he said, leaning against the arm of the leather couch, “didn’t your doctor tell you that you may never recover those memories? In cases of retrograde and anterograde amnesia, it’s rare for the patient to get any of that memory back. It’s the brain’s way of coping with the pain. It doesn’t want to remember, so try not to push it. It only makes it harder if you try to force the memories. Try to relax, and if they’re going to come at all, they’ll come on their own.”
“I know, that’s what my doctor said and my brain agrees with you, but I can’t help wanting to know what happened. The dreams are awful. They scare me. I just want them to go away.” Beth shuddered and pulled herself upright on the couch, folding her arms. “I’ve been thinking about going back to the scene of the crash to see if it triggers anything. What do you think?”
“You can’t be serious?” He stepped back to the large chair behind his desk and sat down, his eyes wide with concern. “You’re definitely not strong enough for that sort of ordeal, and it probably won’t achieve anything anyway. Why don’t you wait a while? When your knee’s better, you might feel differently. I’ll even come with you when the time comes, but I’m not convinced you’re ready for that just yet.”
“You think I should wait?”
“Of course I do. In my opinion, you’re nowhere near ready. You’d be better off spending the time doing your therapy and catching up on your studies until then.”
What a one-track mind he has, she thought, smiling. He’d been a wonderful support to her since her parents’ death five years ago, but sometimes he acted as if it was his moral duty to keep her on the straight and narrow. Sometimes he forgot that she was a grown woman used to making her own decisions. Not that she’d ever been in trouble in the past, but she hated to disappoint him after all he’d done for her. “I suppose it makes sense to wait,” she said tentatively, turning her head and biting down into her lip.
Maybe Doc was right. She would be better able to cope when her leg was stronger. She was getting more mobile every day, but she was still dependent on the stick. Although the pain wasn’t as bad as it had been initially, the stiffness was still a handicap she didn’t need. Maybe she should wait.
* * * *
By the time another week had gone by, waiting was the last thing Beth wanted or needed. Sleep only brought on the fearful dreams, so she’d started avoiding it altogether, finding numerous reasons to justify staying up later and later. The late night movies weren’t doing it for her any more. She couldn’t concentrate on reading and she sucked at knitting. And the worst of it all was that her health was beginning to suffer. She checked out her reflection in the bathroom mirror one morning after another sleepless night and she groaned. Her normally springy red curls were dank and limp, her skin was pale and pasty and the dark rings under her eyes made her look as if she’d gone two rounds in the boxing ring.
This could not go on. She needed control of her life. Empowerment, that’s what it’s called. Maybe retracing her steps would help bring back whatever pieces of her memory she’d lost and that would be the end of it. It’d only be an overnight stay. She could catch the nine o’clock train and be back by lunchtime the next day. She had no family to consider and Dr. B was the only person apart from her therapist who knew she was home. No one would even miss her. Easy.
* * * *
Easy? Standing on the cold platform at Central station the following day with her stomach in knots and her head pounding, Beth almost changed her mind.
Why is this a good idea?
Her breathing came in and out like an air pump, increasing in speed so that she was almost hyperventilating. What had she been thinking?
“Are you sick, miss?” asked the platform attendant. “You’re not going to throw up, are you?”
Beth lifted her eyes from the ground she’d been staring at in an effort to staunch the growing dizziness her rapid breathing was causing. She would have fallen over if the attendant hadn’t reached out and steadied her arm. “I’m fine really, thank you. I’ll just sit down.”
“Okay, if you’re sure,” he said as he guided her to a bench.
“I’m sure, thanks.”
She sighed as he walked away. This is ridiculous, I’m just catching a train. What’s the worst that can happen?
The worst had already happened, she told herself as she tried with every breath to convince herself not to turn around and go home right now. Why was she putting herself through this again?
I might remember something. That could only be good, couldn’t it? Beth continued the internal argument and at the same time fought a gnawing fear that was twisting, knot after knot, into her already fluttering stomach.
She jumped as the loudspeaker announced the train was about to leave. It’s now or never. She dragged herself off the bench and hobbled into the closest carriage with her stick in hand and backpack slung over her shoulder.
* * * *
The lush green hills of the Southern Highlands should have been soothing. The quaint little townships they passed with their numerous antique shops should have stirred up at least some curiosity, but all Beth could see was a fuzzy blur as the train flashed quickly along the track. She sat with fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white and numbness was setting in. Despite the sun shining in through the window, she was shivering violently.
“Excuse me, but are you okay?” A rich, deep voice broke through her icy stupor and warmed her like smooth hot chocolate on a cold winter morning. She lifted her head to see who spoke and stared into the sexiest brown eyes she’d seen for a long time, maybe ever. Holy crap.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I asked if you’re okay,” the deep voice continued from the other side of the carriage.
Beth turned farther and inspected the face that came with the eyes and the voice. For a brief moment she thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes.
Does he know me? Was he on the train that day?
No, that couldn’t be true. What are the chances of meeting someone who had been on the train the day of the crash? But he does seem familiar, she thought as she shifted back in her seat and tried to place him.
“I’m fine, just a little travel sickness,” she lied. “It happens sometimes. Maybe I should get a drink of water.”
Beth fumbled with her stick as she tried to stand. The stranger also stood and put his hand out to stop her.
“No, don’t get up. I’ll get it for you.”
Beth started to protest but it was too late. He’d already left the carriage. She sat again and tried to pull herself together. The train had traveled for over an hour now, which meant it wouldn’t be long before they passed the crash site. Beth shivered at that thought. Except for her traveling companion, there hadn’t been even one flash of a memory so far, and apart from this horrible feeling of fear and danger that she couldn’t shake off, it could have been just any old train trip.
The stranger with the sexy voice returned with a cup of water and handed it to her. Their hands touched briefly, sending ripples of heat through Beth’s fingers. She almost dropped her water but recovered quickly, hoping he didn’t notice. He hesitated briefly before returning to his seat and resuming reading.
“Thank you.”
“No problem,” he replied, this time without even giving her a second glance as he shook the paper and turned another page.
Beth sipped slowly on the water, willing her nerves to calm down. What had just happened? It helped having this quiet companion to distract her from her fear, but when their hands had touched, it had been as if a fire had been ignited. S
he knew she should be concentrating on the journey, should be trying to discover anything that would help trigger her memory, but she couldn’t help glancing again at this man. He was tall with wavy brown hair that was slightly long, falling over his ears. He was also gorgeous, she noted—no two ways about that. He smelled so good, all musky and virile male. She could still feel the heat rippling through her body from the brief touch of his fingers. She sighed as she tried to pull her thoughts back to her mission. He had an aura of calmness and strength that she found very reassuring, and for some reason, he made her feel safe. Safety in numbers, she thought. That must be it. It didn’t hurt that he was a hunk, too. Nope, not a bit.
Daniel Wyatt stared blindly at the newspaper he pretended to read. The total lack of recognition in Beth’s eyes left him positive now that the rumors of her memory loss must be true.
He dared not speak to her again. It was a risk and he may have already said too much. He couldn’t risk her recognizing him.
Thinking back to when they’d first met, he smiled. He’d been sleeping—something he didn’t usually do when traveling, but returning from a mission in London, he’d been exhausted. The train trip had been a way to get some rest before he handed in his report. He recalled seeing this gorgeous redhead with sexy green eyes leaning perilously close to his face and whispering in his ear. He’d thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Remembrance of the feel of her soft body colliding with his when they’d moved toward the gunman sent heat to his groin. He shifted in his seat to adjust his jeans. He could still smell her unique fragrance in his dreams. He couldn’t allow himself that self-indulgence—not with what was at stake.
Shrugging, Daniel brought his thoughts back to the present. Yes, she’d certainly gotten his attention. She’d nearly gotten them both killed, too, but it hadn’t been her fault. Just a quirk of fate, a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like it or not, now it was his job to make sure she stayed safe.
He wondered why she was on the train. His department was keeping tabs on her, so he knew she’d only left the hospital a week ago. Hell, he’d only been back on assignment himself for the last two weeks. By the look of her tight expression and careful movements, she was still in a lot of pain.
Maybe she sought closure by returning to the scene of the accident. He hoped it was only that. For her sake, she would be better off never remembering. If only that gunman hadn’t escaped, then she wouldn’t be in the danger she was now.
He told himself that he shouldn’t even be this close to her—should have been watching her from a distance. But when he’d seen how pale and scared she was on the platform, he knew there and then that he had no choice but to sit near her in the train. She was one gutsy lady. Not many would have done what she’d done to try and save someone’s life, but she wasn’t completely recovered and had no idea of the danger she was walking into. She needed someone to take care of her. From the little he knew about her, he feared she may take matters into her own hands again, and he couldn’t allow it. Not this time.
Lifting his eyes from his newspaper, he surreptitiously took a peek at her long jean-covered legs and that gorgeous curly red hair. He sucked in a breath.
He couldn’t let himself think about her in a personal way. She was a job, an assignment to complete. But reminding himself of that fact didn’t help. He knew she’d already gotten under his skin. She haunted his dreams night after night—hot, erotic dreams that involved her and him, naked and sweating. She invaded his thoughts, and that was what worried him the most. He’d become too involved with a subject once before and had sworn he’d never go down that road again. It was too dangerous for both of them.
He would keep her safe, and the best way was to keep his distance. She was already in danger, even though she didn’t remember anything. If she did recall what had happened, then the stakes would immediately get higher. Her life would be over unless the job got done with no emotional involvement. She’d better cooperate and stay out of trouble. It would be easier for both of them and much easier for him to stay detached. Just go in, do the job and get out with no complications.
Yeah, that’ll work.
* * * *
It was time. Beth stood and braced herself for what she needed to do. The passage to the corridor was not easy. The space was small, making it difficult to maneuver her stick. The police report mentioned that the rescuers had found her close to the rear of the train, in the fourth carriage. She cursed herself for not boarding the train earlier so she could have seated herself in the same carriage where she’d been found. Making her way there while the train was moving was proving more difficult than she wanted. She needed to reach her target position before the crash site came into view, and her knee was already beginning to stiffen. The journey was slow and awkward. The jerking of the train, especially around the many small bends, was not conducive to using a stick. She gripped the metal handles that rose above the backrests of the chairs, moving from one rung to the next to avoid falling on one of the few passengers who patronized this train.
Once she arrived at the fourth carriage, she leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes for a few seconds, letting her surroundings seep in.
As she opened her eyes and adjusted to the light in the carriage, she examined the dark blue seats. A few bags were scattered around, a couple of books and a folded magazine lay on the seat nearest the window. She guessed their owners would be in the lounge car having morning tea.
The sign for Mittagong station whizzed past. The train started to lurch roughly around a bend. Beth momentarily lost her balance and her stomach clenched as she struggled to steady herself.
Calm down. It was only a bend.
Only it could have been the bend.
She knew they were close now as she studied the map she’d taken out of her pocket. Taking a cleansing breath, she stared out of the window, conjuring images of what might’ve happened.
She spied another passenger coming into the carriage. He stared at her for a few seconds before walking straight past her and sitting down farther up the train. He probably thought she was mad, traveling around the train with her cane like that. She carefully scanned the carriage again to confirm she was on her own before she closed her eyes and concentrated once more. It didn’t feel familiar at all. Something wasn’t quite right here. Beth had a nagging feeling that this wasn’t where it had happened. It just didn’t feel right.
She made her way back down the train as quickly as her walking stick and injured leg would let her. She passed her own seat and noticed that her travel buddy was no longer in his place. She came to the first carriage and realized this was a more likely place. This was the carriage she would usually have chosen to sit. Funny really, she thought. She was always told that the rear of the train was the safest place to be in a train crash. But she liked the front. The ride was smoothest from there. It had come from years of travel sickness. It had used to drive her father crazy.
A quick movement behind her caused her to jump instinctively and turn around. Someone opened the door into the carriage behind her. A flash of memory hit her like a thunderbolt. Her head pounded and the breath whooshed out of her lungs. In her memory, a dark, shadowy figure was pointing a gun.
She could almost smell her fear as she froze in place. Her head started spinning and the taste of acid rose up in the back of her throat. Something whizzed past her head and her eyes were drawn to the hole it left in the wall beside her.
Bloody Hell! Someone’s shooting at me!
Chapter Two
Beth started running as quickly as her stiff leg would allow. All thoughts of her injury were forgotten as she headed toward the driver’s carriage. She’d almost made it when a pair of strong arms came out of nowhere and grabbed her, pulling her into a small cubicle and closing the door, locking them in.
A large hand covered her mouth as a voice whispered in her ear.
“Don’t say a word, Miss Hamilton.”
She struggled under th
e strong fingers that thankfully slackened their hold.
As the hand dropped, she turned her head around and was shocked to see that it was the man from her carriage.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You were followed, and I had to get you out of there before they got you,” he replied.
“Someone shot at me.” Beth said. She swayed as a wave of dizziness hit, her heart pounding so hard her chest hurt.
He put his hands on her shoulders to steady her. “I know. There’s no time to explain. We have to get off the train now.”
“You know my name,” she gasped as this fact finally registered. “And who are you to tell me what to do?”
“We don’t have a lot of time. My name is Daniel Wyatt, and I’m with the National Crime Authority.”
She glared at him, not really sure she’d heard him right. “Have you been following me?” Beth was angry, but she wasn’t really sure why when it appeared this man was trying to help her. She really should’ve been scared shitless, but anger took her mind off the danger for the time being. “Is this about the train crash? Why don’t you just ask me what I know? I can tell you right now. I don’t remember anything!”
“Then why are you on this train, walking down memory lane and being shot at by dangerous men?”
Beth flushed. He had a point. “How do I know you’re not one of them?” Beth narrowed her eyes at him, hating this feeling of being out of control. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t believe for a minute that he meant her any harm. He was too cute. Cute guys weren’t the bad guys, were they?
“Look. I can show you my identification if you like, but we don’t have time. We’ve got to get off this train now, before they find us.”