The Sheriff & the Amnesiac

by Ryanne Corey

  His heart took up residence in his throat. He took the stairs two at a time, coming up short when he saw her framed in the open front door. She was dressed in low-slung jeans with a soft cotton tee that left her midriff bare. Gypsy clothes. The diamond in her belly button winked at him.

  She held the morning paper in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.

  “Good morning,” she said curiously, raising an eyebrow at his state of panic. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone come down a flight of stairs so quickly—unless they were falling down head over heels. Are you all right?”

  “Are you?” Tyler asked stupidly. He was realizing that fear could make a man panic. Cool Hand Luke he wasn’t.

  “Of course I am.” Jenny smiled, but it was a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She brushed past him, leaving the fragrance of apple shampoo in the air. “Come in the kitchen. I fixed us something to eat. I don’t exactly cook, but I can butter toast.”

  “Jenny—”

  “Come on, things are getting cold. Your sister called while you were sleeping like the dead. She wants you to call her.”

  Tyler followed her into the kitchen, trying to catch her hand in his and missing. His panic turned to a cold apprehension. She didn’t want to be touched. That hadn’t been her attitude last night. Obviously, something had changed. “Jenny, what in the devil—”

  “Your toast is getting cold,” she said, taking a seat at the table. It was neatly set, blue stoneware on two place mats. There was toast, jam, coffee and cream. A nice little breakfast for two. “I was going to squeeze some fresh juice, but you don’t have any oranges.”

  “How interesting.” Tyler remained rooted to the floor. Dread curled like something dead and cold in his belly. “I feel like I came into a movie halfway through. A very complicated movie. Did I miss something?”

  “Not at all,” she said lightly. “You’re a cowboy and a sheriff, remember? Not the kind of guy to miss anything important. Are you going to eat your toast?”

  “No, I’m not going to eat my toast! When did you get up?”

  She took a bite of toast, her gold-tipped lashes swept downward, covering the expression in her eyes. “I’m not sure. Around five, I think. I’m a terrible insomniac. Have been since…forever. Can I have your toast, then? I’m starving.”

  Tyler shook his head helplessly. “What is with you?”

  Still avoiding his eyes, Jenny chewed for a moment before answering. “Morning-after nerves, maybe. It’s hard to know the etiquette, y’know? I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to…comes to…”

  “When it comes to what?”

  “What we did,” Jenny finished lamely.

  “What we did,” Tyler told her, “is make love, physically and emotionally. Is that so hard for you to say?”

  Again she avoided his eyes. “Of course not.”

  But you still didn’t say it, Tyler thought. Although it was warm in the sunny kitchen, he felt a little chilled. Something serious was going on here, and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on it. “Jenny, let’s just back up a little here. The last thing I remember you saying last night is ‘I love you.’ The only thing you want to talk about this morning is toast. Yesterday you were one person, today you’re another.”

  “No,” Jenny said, pushing back her chair and heading for the sugar bowl on the counter. “Yesterday I was confused. Today I’m me again, warts and all. That’s the only difference. Don’t look so worried. I’m fine.”

  “I’m not worried about you,” Tyler snapped. “I’m worried about me right now. I woke up alone this morning. Even now that I’m with you, I still feel alone. That’s scary, particularly when I’ve got my heart out on a limb like this. Just tell me—”

  Then came a knock on the front door. It was a very precise knock—shave-and-a-haircut, two-bits. An attorney’s knock.

  “We’re not through,” Tyler said. “I’m going to get rid of the visitor and we’re going to talk. Yes?”

  “Whatever,” Jenny said lifelessly. She watched him walk out of the kitchen, her eyes following the beautiful curves and muscles of his bare back. His jeans rode low on his hips, emphasizing the cat-like rhythm of his walk. And he had pillow hair, she thought, smiling through a sudden mist of tears. All crumpled and tangled around his head.

  I can’t cry. She blinked her lashes furiously, taking her sugar bowl back to the table. She was going to be just fine as long as she kept her shiny new, unfamiliar emotions under lock and key.

  Leaving Tyler in bed earlier that morning had been one of the hardest things she had ever done. She knew, as he did not, that would be the last time she lay in his bed.

  She tried to find comfort in the old distractions: Where do I go next? What do I want to see? How long should I stay there?

  It didn’t work. There was no comfort in the thought of leaving him. Only panic, deep inside, viciously biting at her. It had rattled her all morning, making it terribly painful to make plans and say what needed to be said. There was guilt, as well, for deliberately letting him believe that last night was something other than…the last night. For the first time in years she had wanted something badly. For better or worse she’d allowed herself that small betrayal of her own isolation. She’d wanted the memories. Winter was coming, and she needed a few roses to cling to.

  As she’d expected, Eliot followed Tyler back into the kitchen. He’d lost the bow tie and dressed down for his day in Bridal Veil Falls. Khaki slacks, a pin-striped shirt and glossy Italian shoes. The starch in his shirt seemed to be holding his upper body in a perfect posture. In his wardrobe and in his business, he was a very particular man.

  “Good morning, Eliot,” Jenny said with a plastic smile. “I see you’ve dressed for a holiday. No suspenders or tie. Are you roughing it?”

  “Even I can relax under the right circumstances,” Eliot told her. “How are you feeling?”

  Jenny darted a quick glance in Tyler’s direction. His face was still a thundercloud. “Just ducky. I’ve put coffee on if you’d like a cup?”

  “No, thank you.” Eliot looked down at his immaculate shoes. “I have an appointment for breakfast.”

  Tyler raised his eyebrows at him. “You have an appointment in Bridal Veil Falls?”

  Eliot cleared his throat. “Indeed. A breakfast appointment.”

  “You said that.” Jenny stared at her attorney with curious eyes. “Eliot, you don’t know anyone in Bridal Veil Falls.”

  Eliot’s lips curled faintly. “I beg to differ. I know you, Sheriff Cook and…his sister, Rosie. And her children. That’s five people.”

  “And which of those five people are you having breakfast with?” Tyler asked him.

  “The last three.”

  There was a moment of silence. Tyler thought it only fitting, since the man was going into the terrible-two’s war zone for breakfast. He didn’t have a clue what he was getting into. “I see,” he said, though he didn’t see at all. “And when did you make this appointment?”

  Eliot began to wriggle ever so slightly in his starched shirt. “Last night. I called her, actually. But that isn’t what I came here to talk about. Jenny, did you have a good night?”

  Jenny choked on a healthy swallow of coffee. “What?”

  “A good night,” Tyler supplied smoothly. “The man wants to know if you had a good night. Actually, I’d like to know if you had a good night, too. Well?”

  Jenny’s skin burned hotly. She began dumping sugar into her coffee cup. “It was fine.”

  “Just fine?” Tyler asked innocently. “My night was better than fine. My night was—”

  “Eliot didn’t ask about your night,” Jenny said hastily. “Did you, Eliot?”

  Eliot blessed them both with a knowing smile. “I’m sure I hope he had a decent night, as well. Jenny, I do need to ask you something. Since I got here, I’ve realized how hard I’ve been working lately. Much too hard. Since you’re not completely on the mend, I’m considering staying here for a day or
two just to relax. Then we can talk about getting you home safe and sound. I think it would be good for both of us.”

  Jenny became absolutely still. This was a curve ball she hadn’t expected. Eliot never did anything but work, never. He lived for his work. Why would he suddenly decide he needed a vacation? Especially when she’d half expected him to insist she return to Los Angeles with him?

  “Have you had a crack on the head, Eliot?” she ventured.

  “I have not!” he replied indignantly. “Even I am capable of being spontaneous now and again. This is a beautiful place. Why shouldn’t I enjoy her? I mean, it. Enjoy it.”

  “Whatever,” Tyler muttered, feeling as if his world was spinning slightly out of kilter. “It’s your neck. I’ll tell you one thing, though. I wouldn’t wear anything over there that you don’t want food stains on. It’s a jungle at Rosie’s.”

  “I’ll manage,” Eliot said smoothly. “Jenny, I’ll call you this afternoon and we’ll make some plans. Yes?”

  There was almost an imperceptible pause before she answered. “Of course. Enjoy your breakfast. Say hello to Rosie for me.”

  When Tyler returned from walking Eliot to the front door, Jenny was washing dishes at the sink. He could tell by her rigid posture that she was in no mood to continue their discussion. Not to mention the fact that the wall clock told him he was late for work.

  “Jenny?” he asked quietly.

  She glanced over her shoulder, still wearing her bright and unconvincing smile. “Can you believe that one? Eliot and Rosie. If you knew him like I knew him—”

  “I don’t want to know Eliot,” Tyler snapped. “I want to know you. I want to know everything you’re feeling and thinking and planning—emphasis on planning.”

  She went back to her work. “You sound like you’re worried I’m going to rob the First National Bank of Bride Falls on Her Head.”

  “Promise me something.”

  There weren’t any more dishes to be done, darn it. Jenny had no choice but to turn and face him, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Sure. What?”

  “You won’t leave while I’m at work.”

  “Okay.”

  No, Tyler thought. That came too fast. Tyler walked over to her, planting his palms flat on the counter on either side of her hips. “Jenny? I won’t be gone more than a couple of hours. That’s all I’m asking, two hours. There’s too much unsaid between us. Promise me you’ll wait until then to make any decisions.” He kissed her once, hard and unexpected. “Promise me. Swear you’ll stay until we can talk.”

  “I promise,” she said hoarsely. “I’ll be here.”

  Tyler stared at her for a long moment, trying to read her face. But she was far too good at controlling her emotions. He couldn’t find truth or reassurance, nor could he see any evidence that she lied. He had no choice but to believe her.

  He kissed her one more time, long and sweet and lingering. He took some comfort in the fact that she kissed him back, as openly and sweetly as she had kissed him the night before.

  Then, because he had no choice, he went upstairs to shower and change.

  Ten

  Tyler hadn’t realized Jenny’s duffel bag was already packed, waiting for her in the closet of the clown room.

  He left for work after giving Jenny a couple of DVDs to watch while he was gone. Also a book. Also several magazines. He seemed intent on making sure she didn’t run out of things to do until he was home.

  She hobbled upstairs and watched him leave from the bedroom window. She stood there long after the Jeep had disappeared, her palms pressed flat against the glass. Come back.

  But it wouldn’t make any difference if he did come back. She knew that now. She also knew she had lied when she’d looked straight into Tyler’s eyes and told him she would be here when he came home. There was no way she could keep that promise, though she wished with all her heart it was possible. This was the simplest form of torture, one person being pulled in two directions. She needed to go. She wanted to stay.

  She’d been taken completely by surprise when Eliot had opted to stay in town for a day or two. She had expected him to insist that she see a doctor in Los Angeles, particularly after spending a night at the less-than-luxurious Cotton Tree Motel. Eliot liked his creature comforts. But no, everyone in her life these days seemed to be throwing her for a loop. Even the usually predictable Eliot was acting as if he were possessed by a new, less uptight personality. She still couldn’t quite get her mind around the concept of Rosie and the buttoned-down lawyer with a fetish for stiffly starched shirts. Was it something about Bridal Veil Falls that made people do things completely out of character? Maybe it was in the water.

  So…this called for plan B. Which meant she had to come up with a plan B.

  Her breath was quick and frightened as she pulled her duffel bag out of the closet, unzipping a little compartment on the inside seam. It was rather like Aladdin’s lamp, her duffel bag. It produced several hundred dollar bills that she kept for emergencies. Enough to go…somewhere. She could leave Eliot a message at the motel. And as for Tyler…she could leave him a note. What she would say in the note was still rather vague. Her heart seemed to be hurting too much for her to even think. She only knew a fierce, unrelenting need to be alone, and quickly. If she spent too much time here, if she came to care too much…she would be vulnerable again. She would have someone in her life she couldn’t live without. She couldn’t bear that idea. She knew only too well how unexpectedly loved ones could disappear, and how deep and abiding the hurt was long after they’d gone.

  She couldn’t take the chance of going through that again. She wouldn’t survive.

  She knew Tyler would be all right. He had his family, his work. He had his someday ranch on the mountain overlooking Bridal Veil Falls. He wasn’t isolated the way she was. He was a part of something bigger, something stronger than just himself, a limb of another body. She’d known what that was like once. It was the most precious thing in the world. There would always be loving and familiar faces around Tyler, people to share his hopes and dreams. And Jenny…she had been adrift for longer than she could remember. It was the only way she knew how to live. There was a sort of blind, unreasoning panic inside her—the emotional fallout from allowing Tyler to become almost…necessary. But that was then and this was now, and he had been everything he could be to her. Still, she had the feeling she would never quite readjust to life without him. He’d done some fair damage to her heart in a few short days. What could he do with another hour, another day, another week? She was terrified she would come to need him. Long before she’d met him, she’d known she had little left to lose—and nothing left to give.

  Don’t think about it. Don’t think about what you’re walking away from. Don’t think, don’t think…

  She hoisted her backpack over one shoulder, taking one last look at the clown room. Bozo and his buddies had become oddly comforting in the last couple of days. When her eyes started to sting with tears, she closed them, but all she could see was Tyler’s image in her mind. She knew she would see his face in her dreams from now until forever.

  Downstairs she called a cab, then left a voice mail for Eliot at the Cotton Tree. It was short and to the point: “Feeling fine. Think I’ll leave today. Too long in one place makes Jenny a dull girl. I’ll call you in a couple of days. Sorry I caused you so much trouble.”

  Tyler’s note was much harder to compose. She found a notepad in the kitchen and scribbled a few words, then crumpled it and tossed it in the trash. Another paper, another few words and another slam dunk in the trash. She repeated this process two more times until she realized she could never put her emotions into words. Finally she settled on two simple words: “I’m sorry.”

  It would have to do.

  She felt a little sick as she watched the cab pull up in front of the house. The canary-yellow Ford was old enough to be considered an antique, no doubt the official and only cab in the small town. No air seemed to be getting into her
lungs, no blood moving through her veins as she climbed into the back seat and told the driver to take her to the bus depot.

  “There ain’t no depot to speak of,” the grizzled driver replied in a slow drawl. “Most folks just wait on the bench in front of the American Legion Hall.”

  Jenny closed her eyes against the headache that was threatening. “Fine. Take me to the American Legion Hall, then.”

  “You want Greyhound? ’Cause Greyhound is all there is.”

  “Greyhound’s fine.”

  “You just walk across the street to the Piggly Wiggly to buy your ticket. Where are you headed?”

  Jenny glanced nervously over her shoulder, watching for Tyler’s car. If she talked to him one more time, her resolve might falter. Neither one of them could afford that. “I don’t know where I’m going. But I do know I won’t get there if you don’t move this car.”

  “Lady, you need to relax. I don’t break the speed limit for anybody. The law in this town takes the speed limit pretty seriously.”

  “I know all about the law in this town.” Her voice was low, filled with an immense sadness. “Fifty bucks extra if you step on it.”

  “I can do that.”

  She bought a ticket to St. Paul, Minnesota, because it was the next bus scheduled to come through town. She was lucky with the timing—the ticket agent told her there were only two buses that went through Bridal Veil Falls each day, one headed east and one headed west. Jenny had only an hour to kill, an hour she spent wandering around in the produce section of the Piggly Wiggly, hoping against hope that she could get on the bus before Tyler came to find her.

  If he came. After he’d realized that she had left, he could very well say good riddance. And she wouldn’t blame him a bit.

  By the time she boarded the bus, she was feeling sick with nerves. She couldn’t think back to a time when a place had been so hard to leave…or a person. She told herself she would feel better when she was in a new place, with new scenery, new experiences. There were several other people already on the bus, each one wearing identical expressions of fatigue and boredom.