Twist of Fate

by Witek, Barbara

  You’re such a chicken.

  The clock on the end table read five a.m. This was going to be a very long day. Stepping to the foot of the bed she slipped on the robe, more than ready to make an exit. “Flannel?” Kate rubbed the fabric between her fingers. “Why on earth would I have bought flannel?”

  A steaming cup of espresso was precisely what she needed to clear the cobwebs. Paulie would already be awake. He would know exactly how to make it. She could almost feel the hot cup in her hands and smell the hearty aroma.

  Her gaze lingered once more on the bed. She sighed and tiptoed out. At the top of the stairs, she paused before the closed door. None of the other doors were shut. Kate stole a glance over her shoulder to make sure Sam wasn’t awake, then reached for door number three.

  “It’s just a room, right?” No need to be nervous.

  The door was locked.

  Her hand shot from the knob to her head as an intense pain coursed through her skull. She saw those smoldering eyes again, dark and beckoning just as they had in her dream. The image of jet-black, curly hair and a beard would not go away. She leaned against the wall, squinting from the pain, the locked door temporarily forgotten.

  “I must be having caffeine withdrawal. I need my morning crutch.” The pain subsided to a dull throb and Kate eased herself away from the cinnamon-colored wall.

  She could already taste the espresso as she padded down the stairs. All was quiet in the kitchen, so where was Paulie? Maybe he hadn’t come in yet. She hoped he would be thoughtful enough to stop at the market and pick her up something special for her first morning home.

  “I hope he brings those chocolate chip muffins I love so much.” She bounced up and down on her toes, happy she’d at least remembered something. “Which means I’m on my own for a while, so where is that espresso machine?” While glancing over the bare counters, a thought struck her. “Ugh, don’t tell me it’s broken.”

  She rubbed her hands together in the chill of the room. “Okay, I guess I’ll have to make do with coffee. Not a problem, I’ll make it strong.” Taking another look around, she didn’t see a coffee maker, either.

  “This isn’t funny, Paulie. If you’re hiding, you can come out now.” She remained alone in the kitchen. “If this is your idea of a joke, I’m not laughing.”

  She stomped her foot and crossed her arms in a pout. Her behavior was childish, but she didn’t care. She’d never claimed to be a morning person. The wood floor felt cold under her bare feet. Not only did she need coffee, but now she needed her slippers. She didn’t dare tempt fate by going back upstairs. Feeling rather embarrassed by her outburst, she started looking in the cupboards for a coffee maker.

  “It’s got to be here somewhere. I can’t believe that it’s broken, too. All I’m asking for is one stinking cup of coffee.” Cupboard doors banged left and right while she searched. She thumped from door to door and became increasingly aware there wasn’t much food in the house, either.

  Not that I would even know where to look. She slammed the final door as hard as she could, and slapped both hands on the counter. “Damn it.”

  “What’s all the noise? Is something wrong?” Sam stood in the doorway, tying the belt to his robe and looking like a bear who’d had been awakened from his winter slumber.

  “Wrong?” her voice cracked an octave. “Yes, I’d say something is most definitely wrong. There is no coffee in this house, and I really need a cup. I can’t find the coffee maker. I can’t even so much as find a stinking loaf of bread. This is my house, and I can’t seem to find a damn thing in it.” She spun to face him, yelling at the top of her voice, “Where is Paulie? I know it’s early, but he should be here by now. The big oaf is always up at the crack of dawn. I thought for sure he’d be here to make my first morning home more bearable, but noooo...Does he have the day off or something?” Kate massaged her forehead, taking a couple slow breaths, knowing her rant was about a lot more than coffee. It was about how helpless she felt over the situation she was in. Coffee was simply easier to deal with. “God, I need that coffee.”

  ***

  Sam rubbed his neck, trying to make sense of her rambling. He thought her quite comical with her wild morning hair and eyes full of fire as she left an echo of slamming doors in her wake. Comical that is, until she brought up Paulie.

  How was he going to explain this one?

  Boy, he could use that cup of coffee himself with a little whiskey thrown in, but it would have to wait. He needed to nip this in the bud before things got out of control. Sure she was upset, and rightfully so. He could understand her frustration, but he had to keep her safe at any cost. Poor Kate, she’d never been in the house before, and he seriously needed to stock his shelves. Taking a cleansing breath, he guided her to their modest butcher-block table.

  “Listen, Paulie is at Jennie’s place in the city,” he said once Kate was seated. “He’s, oh what do you call it, you know...her butler guy.” There, that sounded good.

  “Jennie’s butler? You’re kidding, right?” In response to his matter-of-fact look, she rolled her eyes then dropped her head into her hands. “Not again. First, Jennie’s leather sofa, and now her butler, what next?” Kate raised pleading eyes to Sam for an answer.

  Could he give one that would satisfy her? Well, he’d have to try. He reminded himself this was for her own good, and he needed to keep her ‘former’ life away from her for a while longer. He could do this.

  “Jennie has a pretty good life going. She’s worked hard.” He could see the wheels turning while Kate grasped for some fragment of memory. He continued before she could conjure up anything substantial. “Hey, you’re not trying to tell me you’d rather live in some fancy penthouse in the city, are you? Ya know, if you want a butler so bad, I’ll have Rusty come live with us. He’d be more than happy to cater to you. Why don’t I go give him a call and see what he’s doing for the rest of our lives?” Sam cast a teasing grin as he slid out of the chair, making his way toward the phone. Truth was, he was afraid she’d see right through him. Keeping all these stories straight was becoming too much for his simple brain. Adding some humor to this situation was all he could think to do. He just wanted her safe, no matter how comfortable he felt having her back.

  She flew to her feet, grabbing his arm. Her touch stirred him through the thick sleeve of his robe. The entire kitchen seemed to brighten when she smiled, and her laughter was music to his ears.

  “Sam Hackett, don’t you dare.” She tugged on his bicep when he reached for the phone. “I don’t need a penthouse or even a butler. All I need is you, and well, a coffee maker.” She released her hold, and he found himself wishing she would touch him again. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “Pulling me off the ledge,” she signed. “Not remembering is really hard, but you make it easier. I know I’ll get through this.”

  This time he touched her arm. “No, we’ll get through it together.”

  “Deal.”

  Kate plopped back onto the kitchen chair, stuck out her lower lip and exhaled, lifting her messy bangs with a puff. “Now that I know Paulie is at Jennie’s, it kind of blows my theory that he’s out shopping for an espresso machine.”

  Sam couldn’t take his eyes off her as she sat there. The early morning sun highlighted her face and hair. She was beautiful, and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman. Never would he have thought it possible for a fire to rage after all this time. He wanted to grab her and carry her back upstairs to make love, but he’d be asking for trouble, and he knew it. In an attempt to put some distance between them, he crossed the floor and opened the far cupboard. “You just came home, give yourself some time. You’ll start to remember and be back into the swing of things.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I am.” He pushed some of the contents out of the way until he found what he needed. “Bingo.” He returned to the table, a smile of pride on his face. “Here’s your coffee maker.” He hand
ed her a large, silver pot.

  “What kind of coffee maker is this?” She wrinkled her nose.

  “It’s the percolator.” Her confused expression should’ve had him doubled over in laughter, but instead his insides sparked like a welder’s torch.

  Her own robe had loosened, and he could see she’d slept in his old Hard Rock Café T-shirt. His vision was drawn immediately to where the shirt stopped high on her thigh. He followed every inch of her long, alluring legs right down to her bare toes which were painted a pale, glossy pink. His heartbeat quickened, and his blood boiled beneath his skin as lustful thoughts ran rampant through his mind.

  Last night, she’d been sound asleep when he’d come up to bed. She’d been so close to the edge, he thought for sure she’d roll off. He’d remained a gentleman and stayed on his own side. It had tortured him to lie there and not touch her, but he would do it for her. Of course, if she’d rolled over and wanted to make love he’d have been more than willing. He still couldn’t believe after all these years she could get him worked up like a teenager.

  “Sam.” The sound of his name brought his eyes back to hers. “Are you listening to me? I don’t think I know how this thing works.”

  “You can figure it out. I’ve got to hit the shower. Big day at work.” He gave her a wink and almost ran out of the kitchen.

  Staying wasn’t an option.

  “Sam Hackett, you’d better get back here. This isn’t fair. I need some coffee!” she called after him, but no way was he turning around. He felt a little guilty over not putting the percolator on the counter and making coffee for her. He’d have felt a hell of a lot more guilty if he’d put her on the table and made love to her, which he’d been about to do. He desperately needed that shower.

  Safely in the bathroom, he heard more slamming and cursing from downstairs while he lathered up at the sink. His foamy reflection smirked as he pictured her trying to figure out the old percolator. That thing hadn’t been used in over ten years, not since they all used to go camping together. He was surprised he’d never thrown it out. Now days he picked up his coffee at the diner on the way into work. He’d never needed the luxury of a coffee maker, until now.

  Thinking about her wild cupboard-slamming episode had him laughing in seconds. No doubt she’d be furious if she knew he was poking fun at her. He started the shower so she wouldn’t hear.

  As the hot water pelted his skin, his laughter faded. He hadn’t been prepared for this at all. Sure, he’d expected some questions or moments when things didn’t seem quite right to her. There were bound to be some tricky issues and he’d been ready for those, too, but not now, not this soon. Why did it have to be first thing in the morning? He couldn’t even think straight himself, let alone try to answer a question he hadn’t even bargained on to begin with.

  “Damn that penthouse and damn that way of life.” He smacked the navy blue tiles of the shower stall with the palm of his hand. He hoped his response would be enough for her. Would she want to visit Jennie? They were best friends, how had that possibility slipped his mind? Taking her into the city would be suicide. He couldn’t chance it, not now. When he shut off the water and grabbed a towel, a disturbing thought crossed his mind.

  What other crazy little details would Kate start to remember?

  ***

  Kate stood fiddling with the percolator when Sam returned to the kitchen fully dressed. He looked handsome in his oxford shirt, jeans, and work boots. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Without thinking, she buttoned the collar of his shirt and fixed his tie. Her nose tingled with the scent of soap and country air, making the blood pulse beneath her skin.

  “Mmm, you look great.” She pulled him closer like she was watching herself in an instant replay. Her eyelids fluttered shut as her mouth inched closer to his, her lips parted slightly, ready and wanting him.

  Then it happened.

  With the soft, feathery touch of her lips on his, an image of the dark man from her dream flashed before her. He looked like the devil in a tuxedo, smiling at her and motioning for her to come to him. She twisted from Sam, put a hand to her burning lips and pinched her eyes tight for fear of who she’d see when she opened them.

  She couldn’t breathe. She was afraid to breathe. She needed to breathe. “What have I done?” The words hitched on a jagged breath.

  “Kate?” Sam cupped her chin, and her eyes opened as he stroked her cheek. “It’s all right.”

  “No. No, it’s not all right.” Relief of seeing Sam before her became replaced by a distressing fear she didn’t quite understand. “That wasn’t fair of me.” She wrapped a lock of her hair around a finger. Had the accident caused damage to her brain other than memory loss? She felt as if she’d somehow betrayed Sam. “I’m sorry,” she said, more to his boots than to his face.

  “Don’t be.” His rubbed her forearms with his large hands. “I knew this might be awkward until you started to remember stuff. Hey, if the memories don’t come back, then we’ll build new ones.” He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “We’ll take things slow. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, okay?” At her nod, he added, “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You need time to adjust.”

  She chewed her lower lip, feeling foolish for starting something she wasn’t prepared to finish. They were husband and wife. She should want to finish. She felt a connection to Sam but knew for sure the dark man was or had been in her life. Maybe this dark man was a friend of theirs. As awkward as it might be, she needed to find out.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” She saw his gaze drop to the floor.

  “Go ahead, shoot.”

  “I had a strange dream last night and there--”

  “You were probably nervous about being back in the house. You don’t have to be afraid as long as I’m here.” He rested his hand on her shoulder.

  “No, Sam, that’s not what I meant. There was this--”

  He glanced at his watch as he backed away, almost knocking over a chair. “Can we do this later? I really gotta go.”

  “I’ve got some questions I was hoping you could answer.” She hustled after him to make sure he’d heard. She didn’t want him to be late but hoped he could spare a few minutes to talk. “What about my questions?”

  Grabbing his wallet and keys, he stopped by the door. “Listen, I can’t be late today. I’m presenting the blueprints for that big mall job. I’ll be home as quick as I can. We’ll talk at dinner, I promise. You rest and take your time getting re-acquainted with the place.”

  “All right, bye.” She watched him jump into the truck and disappear down the drive. Loneliness folded over her like a heavy wool blanket. She’d do as Sam suggested, and maybe some of the answers would come to her. Maybe she might uncover something which would trigger her memory. It was worth a shot. After all, this was her life.

  First, she still needed caffeine.

  Further investigation yielded two rather old tea bags, which would have to do for now. While the water heated on the stove, she started a running list of things she would need from the store. Moments later, she carried the steeping cup to the window. Looking out at the deep grove of evergreens, she started to think.

  In her dream, she’d been frightened and running. Could it have been from the dark man? When she’d seen the dark man’s image in the kitchen, she hadn’t been afraid, and he was the same man from her dream. She was sure of it. Warmth spread through her body. She wasn’t sure if it was the tea working its way down, or something deeper like she and the dark man had been lovers. He was extremely good looking, whoever he was. Kate froze with the cup in front of her lips.

  “No. I couldn’t have.” Her shaking hand nearly dropped the chipped china cup, and she set it on the table. “I had an affair with the man in my dream.” She continued to speak out loud, “Why? Sam is so handsome, we seem happy enough. He’s kind, and he’s trying so hard to make me comfortable during this amnesia-thing.” She put the cup to her lips but paused to chastise hers
elf. “This has to be hard on him, too.”

  How could she even entertain the thought of cheating on Sam? She dropped into the chair and laughed at her own foolishness. The memory flashes were probably from events that happened before she and Sam were even married. This guy had to be an old boyfriend and her brain was crossing its signals. Sam was the love of her life. That much she did know. She may not remember their house. She may not remember their wedding. But she could never forget her history with Sam. Adding their wedding album on her list, she sipped more tea; glad she didn’t have a chance to bring the dark man up before Sam left for work. The whole butler thing had been enough embarrassment for one day.

  “He’d probably ship me off to the psych ward if he knew about the other guy.” She snorted. The man had to have a name. Once she remembered it all, she would tell Sam. She hoped he’d find it as amusing as she did.

  ***

  Sam drove home relieved the day was over, but rather nervous about seeing Kate again. He’d barely been able to concentrate on his presentation. Luckily, the clients hadn’t seemed to notice. They’d been more than impressed with his blueprints. He’d be breaking ground next week on what would be the biggest project of his career.

  He thought he’d be able to control everything with Kate until this morning. Scanning the winding road for deer, he questioned his decision to bring her back to the cabin and continue with the charade to keep her out of danger. Maybe he was in way over his head with this. Was it too late to back out?

  The doc had said to put her health first, not overwhelm her. The information he was holding would do more than overwhelm her. He didn’t know the full truth, but he was sure it would destroy her. He’d tried to come clean, but something always happened to stop him. Now the situation had snowballed, and he was finding it impossible to do the right thing. He valued honesty and he disliked the fact that for her own safety, he had to keep her in the dark. Damn it, her health was important.