What the Heart Desires

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What the Heart Desires Page 5

by Victoria Rose

only gone for about five, ten minutes.”

  “She has been through a lot; the accident, then realizing that her memory is gone. I personally think that it’s a lot for her to handle right now. She’s overwhelmed by the magnitude of it all, and you, my boy, appear to be the one

  thing she is clinging to right now, to help get her through it.”

  “Do you think she needs professional help?”

  “At this point, no. Let’s not jump the guns here. We will wait. Like I’ve said before, give it a few more days, a week or two at most. She will come back from this, Keane. I know she will. And I will reiterate again, for patients like Becca, recovery is a sure thing. I think it’s more psychological trauma than anything else. Right now what she needs is a lot of rest in a stress free environment to make it happen. The ranch is the perfect place for her. She needs to feel safe, and I know she does with you, Keane. My guess is; she’s struggling with something else other than the accident.”

  “Do you think she is running away from something in her past?

  “Or someone? Yes. There is some sort of emotional trauma there. I picked up on it the few brief times I have been able to speak with her. There is no doubt in my mind that something is bothering her.”

  Keane let out an exasperated whistle. He ran his fingers through his still damp hair and lifted his eyes again to meet his friend’s worried ones.

  “Do you think she was in an abusive relationship? She doesn’t look like a

  victim to me. She certainly didn’t come across as one when I tried to help her. She demanded to know who I was. I could sense that she didn’t take kindly to me being in her car. I had to convince her that I was only there to help her.”

  Michael gave Keane a direct look. “Well, that’s in keeping with not trusting

  anyone. Anything is possible with her, Keane. Something is definitely troubling

  her. And I say this from my experience as a doctor.”

  Keane appeared surprise. “Can you be wrong about her?”

  “I could be, but not in this case. She’s displaying signs of someone who had been through a lot lately”

  “I had no idea when I stopped to help her.” Keane’s face clouded over.

  He was worried about Becca’s health and well-being. “What do you suggest we do? I’m willing to do anything to help her.” He gave Michael a deep look.

  He had known Michael Ross for over ten years and trusted his judgment explicitly. Michael was his parents’ personal physician, and they had become close when Keane’s father had his second heart attack three years ago.

  Michael had helped nursed the senior Whitmore back to health.

  He not only valued Michael’s advice as a doctor, but as a trusted friend as well. Michael was the first person he’d thought of calling when he’d brought Becca to the ranch, because he knew Michael would drop everything and rushed

  to help; even in a blizzard!

  And he knew Michael wasn’t in it for the money. His parents had offered Michael a substantial bonus to come on board exclusively, but Michael had turned down their generous offer without even thinking about it.

  Michael had told his parents he loved his job and felt that he could do more good for people who couldn’t afford health care. He had informed his parents that those were the people who needed his help the most.

  His parents hadn’t been offended by Michael’s bluntness; instead, they had embraced Michael’s decision, and had made several generous donations to the free clinics, and the non-profit organizations Michael worked with. And he had done the same thing when he’d found out about Michael’s work. He had always respected Michael for doing the right thing, and for standing up for what he believed in.

  That was why he was confident that Becca was in good hands.

  “Is there something I can do to help her? Just tell me, Mike, and I will do it.”

  Michael shook his head. The desperation in Keane’s voice was palpable. It didn’t sound like the confident man he knew; the one who always got the girl.

  It was a new man he was looking at now—one who had fallen hard and completely for this mysterious woman. He wondered what sort of hold Becca had on Keane to make him react that way. He had never seen Keane act this strongly about another woman before. He guessed love could do that to someone.

  “Try to get her to talk. She might say something that could help trigger her

  memory, that is; unless she doesn’t want to remember anything from her past.”

  They were on the first floor and Michael paused to look at Keane.

  “Do you think she is forcing herself to forget?”

  He had seen how traumatized Becca was a few minutes ago.

  No one could fake that much pain, not even Meryl Streep!

  “It’s possible, but I don’t think she knows what she is doing at this point. Her

  amnesia, though it may be temporary, is real. The mind is an amazing thing, Keane. It’s one of the greatest assets we have; that and the heart. We can will ourselves to do whatever we think is necessary to shield ourselves from pain and danger. In Becca’s case, I think that whatever she is going through is completely beyond her control at this point. She is in pain, Keane, and she is counting on you to be there to help her get through it.”

  “Wow! I had no idea when I stopped to help her.”

  “Would you have brought her here if you knew?”

  “Yes, of course! I wouldn’t have just abandoned her at the side of the road!”

  “That’s not what I’m asking—and you know it. You could have easily taken her to a hospital.”

  “I thought she would have better care here.”

  Keane stared off in the distance. He was deep in thoughts. His hand went up after to cup his chin.

  “I can get her to the hospital when the roads clear up, Keane. They can work with her, and give her all the attention she needs. They can also direct her to the right people. You don’t know what condition her mental health is in. You aren’t equipped to deal her issues all by yourself here.”

  “No, no,” Keane told him quickly. “I promise I will take care of her, and I

  plan on doing just that. I don’t want to disappoint her, Mike.”

  “I understand you want to help her, Keane, I really do, but do you know what

  you are getting yourself into?” Michael gave him a resigned look. “There is nothing physically wrong with her, from what I can see, but you are still committing yourself to a lot. Think about it. You are a businessman—you have a lot at stake here.”

  He removed his glasses and stared tiredly at Keane.

  “I have thought about it, Mike, and I want to do this. She is scared, and alone. I can’t just send her off somewhere because you say so.”

  “And she’s beautiful. Is that why you don’t want to let her go?”

  Keane turned and gave him a guilty look. ‘What, of course, not! You see how she is—I have to help her.”

  “Yeah! What exactly do you know about her, Keane?”

  “Not much, except for her name.”

  Michael gave him a long hard look.

  “My point exactly! She is not your problem, Keane, my boy! Let me make

  some phone calls and get her the help she needs. She can be out of your hair by

  the end of the day. I can even get her out of here before the sedative wears off.”

  “No.” Keane shrugged his shoulders. “I know you want to help, Mike, but I want to do this my way. The most I can do for her right now is to be there for her. I promise her that I will. She’s counting on me, Mike.”

  “And may I ask why? You just confirm that you know nothing, zip about her, Keane. Why are you willing to put your life on the line for her?”

  A guilty smile appeared on Keane’s face. “What can I say, Mike—I’m human! I care about her. I’m not going to send her off in the condition she’s in right now to be with complete strangers. She may regress. Did you see the way she reacted when she thought I had le
ft her here?”

  “And you’re sure that’s the only reason you have for doing this?”

  Michael gave Keane a daring look. He was trying to get Keane to admit that he was developing feelings for Becca.

  “What other reason could there be, Mike?” Keane let off a nervous chuckle. He knew Mike could see right through him. “I just want her to get better. Is that so bad? You are a doctor—don’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if

  you were in my shoes.”

  “It’s hard for me to say. Everyone handles things differently.” Michael told

  him slowly.

  He still wasn’t certain what Keane’s intentions were, but he decided to leave it

  be. It had been a long night. He hoped Keane knew what he was doing. He doubted Keane could have developed feelings for Becca in such a short time.

  It hadn’t even been two full days!

  Unless, Keane wasn’t telling him everything!

  Maybe he would have done the same thing if he was in the exact position. He shrugged his shoulders. Becca was a very beautiful woman. She was gorgeous. He understood fully why Keane would fall for her, but sometimes we can’t always make decisions from the heart, which was exactly what he thought Keane was doing.

  “Well, in that case, my work here is done. I will leave in the morning. You have my number if you need me. And since Becca is in perfect health, and out of danger, I don’t think I can expect another call from you any time soon. The nurse can stay if you want. But frankly, I don’t think that you will need her, but that’s entirely up to you.”

  “Thank you, Mike, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” Keane extended his hand to Michael. “You have been a big help.”

  “You’re sure you will be okay—I mean, taking care of Becca by yourself?”

  “I will be fine, Mike. I will call you if there are any changes in her condition.”

  “Okay. Make sure you do that. I will be in the study catching up on some

  paperwork. I will check on her when she wakes up, and again before I leave.”

  Keane nodded his head and took off in the direction of his office.

  He went straight to the liquor cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles of the twenty-year-old imported Irish whisky he kept there.

  He was usually calm, and had never felt the need to drink anything strong, but he was on edge. This situation with Becca was all new and different for him. It was taking him out of his comfort zone.

  Most of the situations he had to deal with in the past had always been about business, not affairs of the heart. He knew how to handle them, quickly and efficiently. He had never fallen so quickly and so hopelessly for a woman he had just met, and who he knew absolutely nothing about.

  No wonder Michael thought he was crazy!

  He took a glass from the ones on the large silver tray and poured himself a

  stiff drink and downed it in two quick mouth-fulls. He allowed himself another.

  Then he took the glass with him, and went over to the large windows, and stood there for a while, gazing out at the falling snow. The whisky was slowly taking effect on him, and he felt calmer, but it didn’t stop him from thinking about Becca—sweet, sweet, Becca.

  He leaned against the window ledge and peered out across the large garden that was now covered with snow. It was coming down relentlessly hard out there, and it didn’t seem be letting up any time soon. He couldn’t ever remember seeing this much snow. And he had spent every single Christmas at the ranch since he was little, except the last one. He pressed his opened palm against the window and shut his eyes. Then he took a long, deep breath and let it out slowly.

  He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Becca since he met her. Becca had left an indelible mark on his heart. Jesus! He was falling in love with her, and he was doing it so quickly! And he realized that there was nothing he could do about it!

  He certainly wasn’t going to deny himself the pleasure of what he was feeling. It would be foolish of him if he did. He brought the glass up to his lips again and took another sip. It was good whisky. He didn’t drink very often. Alcohol had never been something he enjoyed, or which he indulged in freely; not since the accident last year.

  His eyes went out the windows again.

  It was a winter wonderland out there. He had always liked winter; ever since he was a child. Everything was so surreal and breathtakingly beautiful. It made him think of heaven.

  It made him think of the last Christmas he had spent at the ranch with Larissa.

  He shook his head and downed the last of the whiskey in one quick gulp.

  He had spent months willing himself to forget. He had traveled extensively

  during the last year, burying his sorrows in his work, forcing himself not to

  remember any of it. And he thought he had been doing a fine job of if, until now.

  Maybe it was too soon for him to come back here.

  He turned around and hauled the glass angrily across the room, smashing it into pieces in the blazing fireplace. And he stood back and watched as the flames danced hungrily above the broken glass. This was the first time he had been back at the ranch since he lost Larissa. He couldn’t bring himself to come anywhere near the place before now.

  And at one point he had thought of selling the place to get away from the

  memories, but he hadn’t been able to go through with it. The ranch had been in his family for generations, and he didn’t want to part with that legacy because of the way he was feeling. He wanted his children and grandchildren to have just as much happiness that he had as a child growing up here. He owed them that much.

  It was torture coming back to a place where he had lost someone he once

  loved, but he would just have to find a way to deal with it. And he was getting there. Things were changing for him since he met Becca. They were looking up.

  He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his damp hair.

  He rubbed his jaw and gazed at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

  He remembered the times he and Larissa had spent sitting in front of the fire,

  holding each other, talking, laughing, caressing and loving each other. He held

  his head skywards and squeezed his eyes shut. Every room in this place was

  filled of memories of them.

  Would it be the same with Becca? Would they have the chance to make new and happy lasting memories here of their own? Would Becca let him in? She seemed to be going through something of her own too. Maybe that was their connection. They were drawn to each other because of their pain.

  He turned away from the window and went around the large antique desk.

  He had some business calls to make, and he couldn’t put them off any longer.

  He finished making the calls, including some personal ones in less than two hours. And headed back upstairs, grabbing a glass of orange juice from the kitchen on the way. He was too exhausted to eat. He couldn’t bring himself to sit down to a meal until he knew Becca was going to be okay.

  Becca was still asleep when he tapped lightly on the door. The nurse came outside and gave him a quick update, then left. There was no change in Becca’s condition.

  He pulled the chair up to the bed and took a seat on the edge, reaching for Becca’s hand, holding it gently in his, stroking it. Becca’s hands were remarkably soft. He had never noticed how exquisite they were until now—piano fingers, he thought, and smiled. He brought them up to his lips and kissed them lightly, gently, holding them against his face for a while, feeling their warmth.

  Becca stirred lightly, and he leaned in to look at her. He wanted his face to be

  the first one Becca saw when she opened her eyes.

  And she did; about two hours later.

  Chapter Four

  “Are you hungry? I hope you are because I have brought you breakfast; scrambled eggs and toast, a few slices of fruit, and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.” Keane came int
o the room balancing a large silver tray in his hand, hobbling slightly, leaning on a cane.

  Becca sat up abruptly and gazed at him. She was surprised to see him using a cane. She hadn’t noticed one before. And she hadn’t seen the limp either. He had seemed fine when she first saw him. She hoped she wasn’t responsible for his injury.

  Keane saw the surprise look in her eyes and smiled at her.

  ‘‘An injury I suffered in Afghanistan a few years ago,” he told her in a matter of fact voice.

  It didn’t seem to bother him, she thought.

  “I didn’t know you were in the military,’’ Becca told him with an even more shocked look.

  “I was a reservist in the Air Force, a pilot—did a couple tours in Afghanistan and Iran, in 2016 and 2017. The military helicopter I was piloting was brought down by the Taliban in the Takhar region in 2017.’’

  “Is that how you got injured?’’ Becca rushed to take the tray from his hands.

  “Yep. We were ambushed by the Taliban. It seemed they were waiting for us. We found out later that one of the locals we hired as a translator was actually working for them.”

  ‘‘Oh, my God, Keane! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know.’’ Becca glanced down at his left leg.

  “Don’t be. I was serving my country. I knew there was a possibility that something like this would happen when I signed up. Unfortunately, some of the men I was with weren’t so lucky. They never had a chance to make it back to their family.

  “Jesus! Keane, I am so sorry!” Becca told him again, giving him a very sad look. “I feel sad for the men who didn’t make it back, but I am glad that you are here, Keane. I really am” And she meant every word. “War is never a good thing for anyone.”

  “It never is, but it’s enviable, especially in the world we live in today. We have to work to keep our citizens safe, and if it meant going to Afghanistan and Iran to

  do so, then, I’m more than happy that I made the sacrifice. I would gladly do it again.”

  “I guess you are right.” Becca gave him a pensive look, thinking how brave he

  was.

  “I wasn’t sure you wanted coffee. I can always get you a cup; just say the

 

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