by Lois Richer
The ache underlying those words was Gracie’s undoing.
“You belong to me,” she whispered. “I’m your wife. We were married in this park six years ago today. May 1.”
For what seemed eternity Dallas said nothing, simply stared at her with an intensity that made her catch her breath. Then he reached up, cupped her chin in his palm as if he couldn’t help himself.
The action was so Dallas, Gracie had to blink back tears.
“I have a wife.” He might have said, I’m not alone, so great was the relief in his voice. “I am a married man.”
Gracie glanced at his left hand. Her stomach clenched. His ring finger was bare, missing the plain gold band she’d slid on it six years ago.
“Do we live nearby, Gracie?”
“No.”
Though she struggled to find a balance between his need to know and her need to feel safe, Gracie couldn’t deny this man was her husband. The green-gold eyes that had once melted with love for her, the hazel irises that deepened to a rich forest shade when he was serious, but lit up like Pharaoh’s gold when he laughed—they were the same.
His hair was longer now, shaggy and unruly, matching his rumpled clothing and generally disheveled state. There were a few silver strands among the dark, just above his ears. He was thinner than he’d been, his jeans loose on the lean body he’d once kept in shape by jogging. Sunken cheeks and haunted eyes told her he’d survived some trauma.
But underneath he was still Dallas, still her husband.
And she knew nothing of how he’d spent the past six years.
“Where do we live?”
She could tell him that. It didn’t matter now.
“We used to live in North Dakota in a little town called Turtleford. I’m a vet. My father had a practice there. I worked with him while you traveled for your business.”
“The house where we lived—was it a big kind of farmhouse with dormers and a high peaked roof?”
She nodded, surprised by the description.
“I dreamed about it,” he said, eyes wide. “And a purple bedroom.”
Gracie smiled and nodded.
“You claimed the bedspread and drapes looked less intense in the store where you bought them.”
I loved them because you gave them to me. I loved you.
Pain sliced through Gracie’s heart.
“I haven’t seen you in six years, Dallas. You left on a business trip out west, to Washington, and I never heard from you again. Do you have any idea why?”
She couldn’t have stopped the question even if she’d wanted to. It had lain unanswered in her mind for too long. Now desperation demanded to know how the man who’d professed to love her more than life could walk away from everything they’d promised each other.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze roved the park, returned to her, dazed and confused. “I don’t know anything except that about three months ago I woke up in a hospital in California. They said I’d been in a coma for almost six years. I had no identification, no money. Ever since then I’ve been trying to figure out who I am.”
Gracie’s heart cracked.
“I felt like there was somebody I belonged to, someone who knew about my past, but I couldn’t figure out whom. I guess I was thinking of you.”
A smile pushed up the corners of his mouth but was quickly replaced by a frown of confusion.
“What?” she asked. A hospital…Was he in pain?
“The police put out news alerts and posters, someone set up a tip line, but no one ever called to ask about me. My dreams were the only thing I had to go on.” He glanced around. “Do I have any family?”
I’m your family, a voice inside her screamed. And then a second terrifying thought took over.
His parents.
Stark, cold dread crawled up Gracie’s spine and seized the cords at the back of her neck. Her throat slammed shut, choking off her air supply. Her fingers squeezed together.
Don’t give in to it. Not yet.
They were his parents. They had a right to know Dallas was alive, even if he couldn’t remember who they were. But that didn’t mean she had to be there.
“When I got here I realized I knew my way around.” He continued speaking as if nothing had changed.
And for him it hadn’t.
“I didn’t get lost, I didn’t get confused. You said we met here.” He studied her intently. “I think I know this city.”
Gracie nodded. “Actually, you grew up in Dallas,” she said. “Your parents live here.”
“Parents?” His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t remember. Any siblings?”
“No.”
“Where do my parents live? Can you take me to see them?”
Gracie controlled her breathing. “I don’t know if your parents live in the same place they did when we were married, Dallas. I just moved back here. We…haven’t kept in touch.”
He studied her quizzically, opened his mouth as if to ask why, then closed it.
Gracie blinked, marveled that the world still looked the same. But nothing would ever be the same, and she had to prepare for that.
“Grace—no, Gracie, isn’t it?”
“Gracie.” She blinked, pulling herself back to reality. “Yes.”
“Gracie. Right.” Dallas inhaled. He wrapped his hands around his knee and squeezed so hard his fingertips turned white. “Would you be able to drive me to my parents’ house? I’d like to see them. Maybe then I could remember.”
It was the last thing Gracie wanted to do. Her very soul rebelled. But she could hardly refuse. He was still her husband, he was alone and he was obviously troubled.
She glanced at her watch, battled to do the right thing.
“I can drop you there,” she agreed finally. “But I won’t be able to stay. I’m supposed to be back at the ranch by four.” Her conscience pricked but she ignored it, began gathering up the remains of their lunch.
“The ranch?”
“The Bar None. It’s a ranch for disabled children. I’m working there for the next six months.” She wasn’t going to tell him more. Not yet.
Not until she had to.
“But you said you had a practice with your father.”
“No, I said I worked with him six years ago. He died.” The punch of loss had weakened after all this time. “I had to sell his practice.”
“Oh.” Dallas waited.
Gracie refused to say more, declined to relive those black days now. Maybe in the future she could drag out all that had passed, but even then she wasn’t sure she could explain without demanding to know why Dallas hadn’t been there to help her survive.
“I’m parked over here.” She pointed, stepped forward, then paused. “Do you have any belongings we need to pick up from your hotel?”
Dallas turned so she could see a small backpack. “Everything I own is in this.”
“Okay, then. Let’s go.” Gracie hurried away from her favorite spot, pausing briefly to toss out the lunch she hadn’t been able to finish. As anniversaries went, this one would at least be memorable.
Once inside the truck Dallas automatically fastened his seat belt. He’d always been careful to do that, said he’d seen too many accidents in his travels.
Was that what had happened to him? An accident?
“You don’t look like a veterinarian.”
“What do vets look like?” she countered.
He’d said nearly the same thing the first time she’d met him in this park during her college spring break. She hadn’t been a vet then, only a trainee, but she’d yearned, dreamed of being more. Eventually, she’d poured out all those hopes and fears to Dallas, as he shared his with her. By Christmas they were secretly engaged.
“I guess I thought a vet would look sort of horsey.” He tilted his head to one side, studied her. “You look more like a kindergarten teacher. Or a mother.”
Gracie clenched the steering wheel, her palms damp.
“What did I say? Something bad? Are you oka
y?” Dallas examined her too closely.
She could only imagine how hard it must be to tiptoe around, trying not to offend, without really knowing the another person. No wonder he’d been afraid. Dallas had nothing to guide him.
“I’m fine.” She faked a smile. “Just the traffic. It’s, ah…been a while since I’ve driven this way.”
It’s been six years since I drove to your parents’ home, but I remember every corner, every signpost. Her head hammered in time to the engine’s sputter.
“It’s pretty weird—I can’t even remember my own wedding. I can see you as a bride, though. All in white, wearing one of those fluffy bridal dresses, like a ballerina.” He met her glance and a hot wire of emotion singed Gracie’s heart. She focused on the street ahead.
They were getting close. Too close.
“Is that what you wore, Gracie?” Dallas prodded.
“What? A ballerina dress?” She shook her head. “White cotton sundress and sandals. Nothing fancy. Couldn’t afford it. You and I eloped, got married by the J.P., then came to the park.” Where they’d held their own private ceremony, promising never to stop loving each other.
Had Dallas honored that promise?
“What did I wear at our wedding?” he asked several moments later.
“What you always wear—wore. Cowboy boots, black pants, white shirt and a Stetson.”
Dallas stared at his sneakered feet in disbelief. “I used to wear cowboy boots?”
Though her arms ached from gripping the wheel so hard, Gracie couldn’t help her smile. “I don’t think I ever saw you in anything else.”
“It seems like you’re talking about someone I don’t know. A person I’ve never met.”
She didn’t respond, was too busy quashing the fear spreading like a virus through her.
“This is it.”
Gracie drew up to the curb, shoved the gearshift home and flicked off the engine. She forced air into her lungs, the metal taste of fear coating her tongue.
“This is what?”
“This was your parents’ house six years ago.”
“I lived here?” Dallas surveyed the big colonial with its massive lawns.
Gracie gulped, nodded. The place had changed. The abundance of flowers was gone, but perhaps his parents had grown weary of their gardening hobby. The shutters and trim had been painted recently, and were now a vivid green instead of the stark glossy black she’d remembered.
Dallas pushed his door open. He glanced over one shoulder expectantly. Only his quick breath gave away his jitters.
“Aren’t you coming?”
Gracie shook her head. “I’ll wait here till they let you in. Just to be sure everything’s okay. Then I’ve got to get back to the ranch. The Bar None. You can call me there whenever you want.”
They’d rejected her once. They wouldn’t get a second chance.
“Go ahead, Dallas. I promise I’ll wait till you’re inside.”
His frown testified that he wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t argue. He nodded once, vaulted from the truck and strode across the lawn.
Gracie swallowed a jagged little pill of fear as the familiar stride carried him so easily to the house where her dreams had crashed and burned.
Why, God? Why now, when I’ve just begun to put the pieces back together? Why not five years ago, when I needed him so badly?
The question died unanswered as Dallas rang the doorbell. Gracie held her breath when the big front door opened. But instead of embracing him and pulling him inside, the woman behind the screen shook her head and kept talking. Eventually she closed the door.
Dallas ambled slowly back toward the truck, his expression perplexed.
Fear’s stranglehold relaxed.
Safe. Could it be that simple?
“What’s wrong?” Gracie pressed back against her seat, preparing herself.
“The Hendersons, my parents, moved about four years ago. She didn’t know where they moved to, only that they sold the house and talked of leaving the country.” He climbed into the cab of the truck, his eyes tormented. “She thought they mentioned India.”
So they were out of her life. But if Gracie found a way to contact them, to tell them Dallas was back, they’d return and nothing would be safe.
And if she didn’t…Dallas stared down at his fingers, his posture showing defeat. That’s when compassion pushed aside fear.
She was his wife. She had to do something.
It was risky. With no memory and no viable means of support, Dallas wasn’t a threat.
Not yet.
But later on…
“We’ll figure something out,” she promised. “But right now you’d better come with me to the ranch.” She started the engine. An emotion, quickly hidden, flickered over his face. “What’s wrong?”
“You don’t really want me to go with you. Why is that?” Dallas’s intuition was as bang on as it always had been. His skin paled. “Did I do something wrong when we were married? Hurt you somehow?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course not!”
“The way you looked at me a moment ago…I must have done something to warrant that.” Dallas quietly gathered up his backpack and reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride, but I don’t want to disrupt your life, Gracie. I’ll go back to the motel for tonight. It’s the New Sunrise. You can reach me there, or stop by the park. If I need you, I’ll call the Bar None.”
She visualized him wandering lost and alone, aimlessly feeding the birds while he waited for someone to acknowledge him, to tell him who he was, where he belonged.
“Get in and close the door, Dallas. We can sort through everything at the ranch.” Her cheeks scorched with shame. “You feel lost, but remember, this is quite a shock for me. I’m struggling to absorb it all, too. But I really don’t want you to go back to that motel. Not yet.”
“You’re sure?”
She should be ecstatic. Her husband, the man she’d loved so desperately, was home. Even better, his parents were nowhere in sight. She was safe. But none of it felt real.
“I’m sure, Dallas.” She wasn’t sure at all. But Gracie had no choice. “Given your way with animals, you’ll fit right in. You might even hire on. They’re shorthanded at the moment, and the summer kids will be arriving soon.”
“You don’t owe me anything, Gracie. You’ve gone on with your life. That’s good.” He patted her hand. “I don’t want to impose on anyone. I only want to figure out who I am. It’s really okay. I’ll be fine.”
Gracie reared back at his touch. Emotion could not rule her life a second time. But her skin wouldn’t forget him.
“I know I haven’t been very welcoming. It’s just…the surprise.” How lame. “I’ll help you, I promise, Dallas.”
They’d both promised so many things.
To love.
To honor.
In sickness and in health.
How could she have known when she made those promises that they would cost her everything?
Chapter Two
Dallas didn’t like it, but his wife was his only key to figuring out his past.
He hesitated, but finally nodded. “All right, Gracie. I’ll go with you, for now. Maybe there’s something I can do to earn my keep.” An idea formed. “If you had some photos or something that I could look at, it might help trigger my memory.”
It was doubtful anything would, not after so many blank months. But he wouldn’t stop hoping. Or trusting God to get him through this, however long it took.
“Sure. No problem.” Gracie waited for him to buckle up.
“I’ll try not to cause problems for you.” As if he wasn’t already. He winced. “I don’t suppose it will be easy to explain my sudden appearance to anyone.”
“Elizabeth won’t mind.”
“Elizabeth?”
“Elizabeth Wisdom. She owns the Bar None. At least her foundation does. Along with a whole lot of other places around the world.”
“You work for thi
s foundation?”
“Yes.” Gracie’s fingertips squeezed the steering wheel and she heaved a sigh of relief, as if she was glad of the change in subject. She had beautiful hands. They matched the rest of her. Any man would be proud to call her his wife. Which made Dallas wonder why he’d left, and where he would stay once they arrived at the ranch.
“Tell me how you came to be there.”
“It was rough after my dad died,” Gracie began quietly. “I hadn’t finished vet school, so I wasn’t qualified to take over from him. The house went with the practice. Once they were sold I didn’t have anyplace to go.”
His fault. Why hadn’t he provided a home for his wife?
“Things got pretty bad,” she summarized, casting him a sideways glance. “Elizabeth offered me a scholarship to finish my degree, with the condition that I work for the foundation for six months when I graduated.”
“So you’ll only be at the ranch for six months? Then where will you go?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
Gracie flicked on the radio, leaned back and hummed along to the country-and-western song filling the cab. Whatever other questions he had would have to wait.
Such as how he came to be married to a woman who was lovelier than Hollywood’s hottest celebrity, yet couldn’t recall one single thing about it.
When big wrought-iron gates and a sign announcing the Bar None appeared, Dallas reached out and turned off the radio. Gracie shot him a quick glance.
“We’re almost there, aren’t we?”
“Yes.”
“Before we arrive, will you tell me one more thing, Gracie?”
“If I can.” Her face tightened, as if she was bracing for bad news.
“Are we still married?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t wear a ring.” He glanced at his own hand, saw no band on his own ring finger. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are we still married?” Dallas slouched against his seat, hating that he had to ask, but needing the information to build another piece of the puzzle. “You could have divorced me. They told me I was in the coma for over five years. That’s a long time for someone to be gone.”