by Renee Ryan
“Megan.” The hand shook her again, a little more firmly this time.
“Sleep,” she mumbled.
“No. No more sleep.”
She tried to protest again, but her mind drifted over a dark void of shifting images, images she couldn’t quite capture.
Best to forget…
If only her head didn’t hurt so badly.
Eyes still firmly shut, she lifted a hand to touch the tender spot above her temple. The movement sent unspeakable pain spearing behind her eyes.
Another moan slipped through her lips.
“Megan. You need to open your eyes.” Dr. Shane’s voice came at her stronger this time. More insistent. Closer.
Too close.
She snapped awake and sat up with a jerk.
A burst of light flashed before her, momentarily blinding her. She breathed in a quick gasp, blinked past the grit in her eyes, but the room remained hazy. The sickly odor of mold and something else filled her nose. What was that other smell?
She didn’t want to know.
“Sleep,” she muttered again, then squeezed her eyelids shut and started to lie back down.
“No.” The doctor’s hands caught her by the shoulders before her head connected with the pillow. “Stay with us.” He urged her back to a sitting position.
She managed a squint. The sun spread golden fingers of light across the floor, chasing shadows to the outer edges of the room. She opened her eyes fully and connected her gaze with a long row of iron bars. She’d spent an entire night in jail.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Megan, darling, don’t cry.” The words washed over her like a soft plea.
She turned her gaze in the direction of the voice. “Logan,” she breathed.
He moved toward her slowly, his steps relaxed, careful, as though he didn’t want to scare her with any sudden movement.
The dear, dear man.
“Logan, wait just a moment.” Dr. Shane stopped his progress with an outstretched hand.
Ignoring the command, Logan continued toward her. No hesitation. No hitch in his step. Just bold purpose.
Dr. Shane muttered something about “arrogant, single-minded lawmen.” Megan didn’t listen to the rest of the words. She was too busy watching Logan’s approach.
He crouched down in front of her and placed his palms on her knees.
His movements were still slow, but the fierce angles of his face and the severe expression in his eyes said he was anything but calm.
At the sight of all the intensity directed at her, a quick jolt of fear slithered down her spine.
Megan instinctively leaned back. Away from Logan.
There was a flicker of hurt in his eyes but then he gave her a wide, nonthreatening smile.
Remorse instantly filled her. This was Logan. Her Logan. There was nothing to fear from him. Just being near him was all she’d ever wanted, all she’d ever craved. “You’re still here,” she whispered.
He swung around then sat beside her on the cot. As before, the ancient springs creaked in protest under the additional weight.
Reaching down, Logan took her hand and laced her fingers through his. “I’ll never leave you again.”
The magnetic force of his sincerity took her breath away. For one fleeting moment, every dream she’d ever had about this man and their future together seemed possible.
In the next moment, an onslaught of images beckoned for release and a feeling of dread balled in her stomach.
Her vision blurred.
Logan slung his arm across her shoulder to steady her. “Doc. Do something. She’s losing color.”
Dr. Shane was at her feet in an instant. But he was too close.
She suddenly felt trapped.
“No. Please. Step back.” She waved her hand in his direction. “I need…” She let her voice trail off, not sure what she needed. “Just…give me a moment.”
Breathing slowly—very slowly—she pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose and ordered her mind to slow down. But her thoughts continued running in countless directions. There were too many images fighting for release.
Sights, sounds, smells all came at her at once, attacking her in rapid succession.
“Breathe, Megan,” Logan urged softly in her ear. “Just breathe.”
She tried to do as he suggested. In. Out. In. Out.
Her efforts only made matters worse.
Blood roared in her ears.
Logan’s grip on her shoulder tightened, reminding her she wasn’t alone in this terrible, terrible mess.
Why was there no comfort in the thought?
Was she fooling herself? Was she grasping at a dream she’d built in her head over the last five years?
Confusion and panic tangled together in her mind. Rather than giving in to either, she called on one of her favorite verses. Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavey laden, and I will give you rest.
One heartbeat passed.
And another.
By the third she shrugged away from Logan’s support and tried to stand.
“Megan,” he began.
“No.” She thrust a palm in his direction. “Don’t help me. I need to do this on my own.”
Brave words. Necessary words. She had to call on her strength, like always, or risk losing more control than ever.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t quite get her feet underneath her. Logan grasped her elbow gently. Once she caught her balance, she stepped away from him.
Pain shot through her right foot. And she lowered back down on the cot.
“What is it?” he asked. “What—”
“Just wait a minute, Logan.” Dr. Shane cut him off. “Give her a moment to find her bearings.”
Logan gave an unhappy grunt in reply, but surprisingly didn’t argue this time. Keeping his eyes on her, he moved to the opposite end of the cell in three ground-eating strides, then leaned a shoulder against the brick wall.
The hard look he shot Dr. Shane reminded her of…of…
She pressed a shaky hand to her quivering stomach and felt the knots tighten beneath her touch. What was wrong with her? How could she possibly be afraid?
This was Logan. Her Logan.
Confused, she turned her attention back to Dr. Shane. There was certainly nothing threatening about him. His clear blue eyes held compassion while a hint of concern showed on his handsome face. His dark hair shot out in every direction, as though he’d run his hands through it too many times.
He slowly crouched in front of her, placed his fingertips on the inside of her wrist and began counting her heartbeats. After a moment, he nodded in approval. “Do you hurt anywhere other than your head?”
“My back aches a little. But that could be from sleeping on this cot.”
He cracked a smile. “I wouldn’t rule out the possibility.” His smile disappeared. “Where else does it hurt?”
“Sometimes…it hurts to breathe.” She drew in a sharp breath and winced. “In my ribs.”
Nodding, Dr. Shane probed the area gently. She pulled back and hissed when his fingers landed on an especially tender spot.
At the sound of her gasp, Logan pushed away from the wall and rushed forward. “Megan.”
Dr. Shane glared him back a step. Then another. Impatience flared out of both men, but Logan finally relented.
Muttering under his breath, the doctor turned back to Megan. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”
“My ankle.”
He lifted her foot and Megan stifled a gasp. The swelling told its own story. Sometime during the evening she’d acquired a minor sprain.
Still holding her foot, Dr. Shane reached for his bag. Digging inside with his free hand, he pulled out a roll of linen bandages and began wrapping her ankle with deft fingers.
“Do you remember falling?” he asked, eyes focused on his work.
Megan forced her mind to concentrate. To focus. Surely a fall that had resulted in a sprained ankle would be so
mewhere in her memory. “I remember…” She searched her mind. And searched. And searched. “Nothing.”
The doctor must have heard the panic in her voice, because his eyes softened. “Don’t worry.” He tied off the bandage with a firm knot. “Your memory will return with time.”
If only she could believe him. If only she could remember what had happened in Mattie’s boudoir. If only she could say that she knew, without a doubt, she hadn’t killed Cole and that she knew who did. The man who killed him was…
He was…
She glanced at Logan. Then just as quickly folded her hands in her lap and looked away. Her gaze caught sight of the blood on her dress and she choked back a sob. “I have to change my clothes.” She couldn’t hide the desperation in her voice.
“Of course.” Dr. Shane touched her clasped hands and squeezed. “Bella is gathering everything you’ll need. She’ll soon be here to help you.”
“Bella?” Logan hissed. “Who’s Bella?”
“Pastor Beau’s sister and my lovely wife.” Dr. Shane rose and turned to face Logan.
“Your wife?” Logan stared at him for a long, tense moment. “You got married?”
“Two years ago.”
Blinking hard, Logan ran a hand down his face. “You’re married,” he repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. “And I never knew.”
“Our first child is due any day now.”
“A child, too.” Something flashed in Logan’s eyes, something sad and regretful, but he didn’t comment again.
He paced.
Even in the confines of the small jail cell he moved with unmistakable authority. There was no hesitation in him, no pause. Every step he took said Logan Mitchell knew who he was and what he wanted out of life. Handsome, kind, capable, he could have his pick of women.
And he’d chosen Megan.
But five long years have passed. The thought settled over her like a heavy weight. In that time she’d changed. She’d gone from a child who helped around the orphanage to a woman in sole charge of the nursery. She’d grown in her love for the Lord, as well. Best of all, she’d discovered her artistic talent and had used it to turn the bedroom walls of Charity House into joyful expressions of God’s unconditional love for His children.
In Logan’s absence, she’d learned so much about herself. Surely he’d discovered things about himself, as well.
Was he still the man she remembered?
It was disloyal to think otherwise.
As if sensing her change in mood, Logan stopped pacing and turned to face her. “Megan, everything’s going to be all right. I promise.”
How could he be so confident? How could either of these men stand here and give her such promises? She’d lost a part of her life last night and everything hinged on her remembering those forgotten hours.
“What if I never remember?” she whispered to no one in particular.
“You will,” Logan said. “You just need time to heal.”
Time. There was that awful word again. Time had kept her and Logan apart. Time threatened them now.
She swallowed back a sob, chagrined at her inability to contain her emotions.
Logan moved closer and searched her face as though he could pull the missing memories forth by his will alone.
If only he could.
She knew she was letting him down. Yet some other instinct, something buried inside her lost memories, hinted that the blackness in her mind was about protecting Logan.
How could that be?
“Megan,” Dr. Shane interrupted her thoughts. “Focus on getting well. Once your body heals, your mind will follow.”
Logan took her hands in his. “And until then I’m going to make sure you’re safe.”
Those were the same words Sheriff Scott had uttered to her last night. Fighting a sense of defeat, Megan lowered her head and sighed. “You’re going to leave me in here until you find the real killer.”
It made the most sense, even if she couldn’t bear the thought of another night in this cold, drafty, depressing jail cell.
“No.” Logan shook his head fiercely. “I’m not going to leave you locked up like a common criminal. I went to Mattie’s this morning. I have proof of your innocence.”
“You…you do?”
“Yes.” But he didn’t expand, which made her wonder if he really had proof or if he was still basing his assumption on what he thought he knew about her.
Before she could press him for more information, for anything to give her a sense of the truth hidden deep within her mind, he steered the conversation in a different direction. “As soon as I make the arrangements I’m going to take you home.”
Home? No. No. They couldn’t take that risk. “I can’t go to Charity House,” she said in a panicked voice. “We can’t put the children in danger.”
“That’s not what I meant. I’m taking you to my home, where I grew up.”
His words took a moment to settle over her. “You want to take me to your family’s ranch?” Pure joy spread through her. Logan came from a large, happy family with a mother. And a father. And lots of siblings.
“It’s the best solution,” he said. “The only one.”
Glory.
“Will that be all right with you?” he asked.
She wanted to jump off the cot and fling herself into his arms. She wanted to tell him, yes, yes, yes.
But reality held her back. She was the daughter of a prostitute, raised in an orphanage with children from similar backgrounds as hers.
His family might never accept her.
Then again, surely the people who’d raised this wonderful, kind, godly man would have equally gracious hearts.
“I…” Not sure what to say, she lifted her arms in the air and he immediately tugged her into his embrace.
She rested her cheek against his hard, muscular chest and breathed in his scent.
For the first time since she’d walked into Mattie’s brothel yesterday Megan felt at peace. “Yes, Logan, I want to go home with you.”
“Good.” He blew out a long breath then set her away from him. “We’ll leave immediately. We’ll—”
“Logan, no.” Sheriff Scott slammed into the jail cell, his lips twisting at a furious angle. “You can’t take her away.”
At the sound of those five angry words, spoken with such conviction, Megan’s hope shattered.
Sheriff Scott wasn’t going to let her leave with Logan.
That meant she would have to spend another night in jail, alone, with no relief in sight.
How would she ever bear the torment?
Chapter Six
Logan had been shot once. In his leg. The bullet had seared through his flesh with a burning agony he’d never experienced before that moment. Yet compared to the pain sweeping through him now as he stared at the anguish on Megan’s face, the bullet wound seemed a mere pinprick.
A fierce, almost primal urge to wipe away her suffering nearly brought Logan to his knees. The sensation was so sharp, so raw, he had to fight for outward control.
He slowly released his hands from around Megan’s waist, sucked in a quick breath, then shifted her behind him, literally shielding her from Trey’s angry glare.
Logan slid his gaze across both men in the cell. “Who’s going to stop us from leaving town? You?” he demanded of Trey. “Or maybe, you?” He stabbed a finger in Shane’s direction.
Neither man appeared in a rush to answer him. After a moment, Shane broke eye contact. Trey, however, continued staring at Logan with an all-too-familiar look in his eyes. Trey wasn’t going to back down anytime soon.
Neither was Logan.
Flattening his lips in a grim line, he dug in his heels and held his ground.
After another moment of silence, Trey finally looked away. “Logan,” he said with unmistakable frustration. “You have to be smart about this. You have to think through every possibility. You—”
“We’re done negotiating.”
“Are we n
ow? There’s still the pesky matter of the law.” Trey casually stuffed his hands in his pockets. He looked deceptively nonchalant. “You can’t just whisk Megan away. She’s a suspect in a murder.”
“She’s innocent.”
Trey shook his head sadly. “We’ve been through this before. Until her memory returns, or until we can prove her innocence, she stays put.”
“I have the evidence we need.”
Trey’s eyes narrowed. “What evidence?”
While Logan silently considered how much to reveal in Megan’s presence, Shane’s light footsteps sounded in the cell as he moved away. Excellent decision on the other man’s part. The good doctor didn’t belong in this conversation.
Neither did Megan.
“Let’s finish this outside,” Logan said to Trey.
“No.” Megan hobbled around him, stopping when she stood by Trey’s side. “I deserve to know what Mattie said about me.”
Although Megan’s voice sounded stronger, Logan noted the pallor on her face. “I’m not sure you should hear this right now.”
“Yes, Logan.” She lifted her chin at a stubborn angle. “Now.”
Logan found himself gaping at her uncharacteristic tenacity. And her inflexibility. The Megan of the past had always been even tempered, tolerant. Gracious even, with the kind of patience that could nurse a child’s injured knee in one breath and laugh off a garden snake stuffed in her pocket the next.
“I think Megan should stay,” Shane said as he stepped out of the shadows. “Hearing the story might spark something in her memory.”
While he spoke, Shane glided to a spot next to Megan. Shoulder to shoulder to shoulder. Trey, Megan, Shane, all three stood in a single row, facing Logan with various levels of resolve in their gazes.
The proverbial three against one.
Logan let out a sharp hiss. There was no way around the inevitable now. He would to have to reveal what he’d discovered at Mattie’s, including the unsavory details of the madam’s business dealings with Kincaid, since he was one of her regular clients.