by Rachel Lee
For the first time Kylie felt like laughing, so she did. “That’s a good point.”
Glenda grinned. “I’m full of good points. I know it must be disturbing, but the doc said there’s a good chance you’ll get at least some of it back. I hope it’s just the good parts.”
Kylie heartily agreed with that. She definitely did not want to remember the attack, although she felt bad that she couldn’t identify her attacker. It might have protected some other woman from the guy.
“And you can always start your training again,” Glenda added cheerfully.
That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Kylie battled back a sense of darkness that threatened to swamp her. She’d been pursuing her master’s in nursing with an eye to becoming a physician’s assistant. She couldn’t do that here. To do that would mean going back to Denver, to the program that had promised to reinstate her entire scholarship so she could afford it, and she couldn’t imagine any possible future path that would take her back to that city. Not now. Not ever.
She heard Glenda sigh and opened her eyes.
“Sorry,” Glenda said. “I was trying to be positive and I guess I put my foot right in it. But there are other schools in the country.”
“It’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. In the broad daylight of a late afternoon, Glenda had brought the nightmare back. Usually the evil darkness pursued her only in her sleep, but now here she was wide awake and she felt as if a demon were looking over her shoulder. God, she hated the feeling.
Just then, causing her to start, there was a knock at the side door.
“Coop,” said Glenda, pushing back from the table. Kylie could see only the silhouette of a man on the other side of the sheer white curtains, and her heart hit an immediate gallop. Stop it, she told herself. Stop it. She was safe. She was not alone. She was home.
Glenda opened the door. The sun was at a perfect angle to bathe the man standing on the top step in golden sunlight so brilliant that Kylie had to blink. For an instant she couldn’t make out any details while her eyes adjusted to the brightness.
Then, stepping out of that halo came a tall man dressed in jeans and a blue polo shirt. His impact was instant. He was big, muscular and still golden from the light, even his dark brown hair.
“Is my timing bad?” he asked immediately. A deep baritone voice that seemed to go along with his size.
“Kylie and I are having some coffee. Join us?”
Kylie realized she was gripping the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline and she was about to drown. She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t loosen her grip. She did manage what felt like a wan smile.
Coop stepped farther into the kitchen while Glenda closed the door, but he didn’t come close to Kylie. “Hi, I’m Evan Cooper. Everyone calls me Coop, obviously. And if you want, I’ll just disappear upstairs. I...heard you’ve had a bad time.”
Kylie didn’t want to be rude, much as she wished she didn’t have to face this, not yet. Not before she got her feet beneath her and felt more comfortable about being home. But she also didn’t want to be discourteous, and Glenda had asked this man to stay here. Absent three years, she still knew that Connie and Ethan Parish had three kids who probably filled their house to the rafters. Be civil, she told herself. You can always run upstairs if you feel overwhelmed.
“Please,” she said quietly. “Join us. You just got back?”
So Glenda rearranged things, putting the table between Coop and Kylie, and settling herself at the end between them. Then he smiled at Kylie, speaking easily. “I arrived in Baltimore three days ago, then flew out here to see Connie and the kids.”
“Where were you before?” Thank God she hadn’t completely lost her ability to make casual conversation.
For the first time she noticed how blue his eyes were, maybe because they almost twinkled at her. “I was here and there. Lately in Afghanistan and then Germany.”
She was relieved to feel her fingers starting to relax. Just in time, because they had begun to ache. “You must travel a lot.”
“I rarely get to hold still. Say, listen.”
Reluctantly she looked at him again and saw that he was addressing her. “Yes?”
“If me being here makes you uncomfortable, there is a motel. I’ll gladly move. Glenda told me you’re...recovering, and having me around might not be restful. I can understand that.”
She glanced at Glenda, and saw her sister looked unhappy. Was Glenda interested in this guy? Oh, hell. “No, of course you can stay here. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to move out.”
“As long as you’re sure, because I’m used to far worse digs than the local motel.”
A little laugh escaped Glenda. Relief? Kylie couldn’t tell. Glenda spoke. “Yeah, like rocky ground?”
“Yeah, like that. Cold, too. So really, neither of you need to worry about me.”
“I like Connie,” Kylie said, reaching for the old self she still retained. “I’ve known her all my life. It only seems right that if we have an extra room, you should be able to use it.”
Speaking the words had an odd effect on her. Maybe because it was the first time since she woke in the hospital that she’d made a real decision for herself. Taking control again, in a small way. She sensed a smile form on her lips. It felt good.
“Well, if I get to bothering you, just send me on my way.” He shook his head, smiling. “It wouldn’t be the first time my butt has been booted out of a place.”
“Why,” asked Glenda, “do I think there are some stories there that I’d love to hear?”
“The ones you’d most like to hear are the ones I will never share.” He winked at Kylie.
God, he was charming, she thought, and let her face relax into a small smile. Such a relief to be able to smile naturally again, not just because it was expected. There’d been too much of that in the hospital and while Glenda had helped pack up her forgotten life. Pretense. No pretense this time, and she simply smiled.
*
Coop wasn’t immune to that smile, not by a far sight. With eyes used to assessing men’s condition, he scanned Kylie. Still recovering, still not at full strength and still very much uneasy. But dang, when she smiled it was as if the sun lit the room.
She looked a bit like Glenda, and they’d always be recognized as sisters, but despite all she’d been through, Kylie still looked softer. Not physically softer, but emotionally softer. Of course, he’d heard all the bad stuff about Glenda’s divorce from Connie, but this was different. Whatever Kylie had been through, apparently she didn’t remember it, and failing to remember it had perhaps saved her kinder side.
Or maybe he was imagining it. All he knew for sure was that he felt the punch of attraction in his gut, both unwanted and dangerous. This woman needed to be sheltered for a while, and she didn’t need some guy like him coming on hot and heavy.
Still, it didn’t hurt to admire her wide hazel eyes, her small pert nose or the smile that hinted at an ability to hit the megawatt range when she was truly happy. Her light brown hair was almost blond, lighter than her sister’s. With effort he turned his attention back to Glenda.
“You’re working tonight, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So let me run over to Maude’s and bring you both back something for dinner. Connie’s patrolling tonight, too, and Ethan begged me to stay away so he could get the younger two kids to bed on time.”
A laugh escaped Glenda. “You’re a problem?”
Coop shrugged a shoulder, laughing himself. “Apparently I’m still new and exciting. I swear I don’t try to get them wound up.”
“Right,” said Glenda with a touch of sarcasm.
“Well, okay, they like to wrestle with me. So what do you two want for dinner? My treat.”
Glenda twisted around and pulled a paper menu from the diner off the fridge bulletin board, and a magnetic memo pad. “You need something solid to eat,” she told Kylie. “You’ve been pecking at your food like a
bird and the doc said you need to eat more.”
“I eat what I can,” Kylie answered, sounding defensive.
“Then pick something with a lot of calories.”
Coop watched with amusement, sensing the older-younger sister dynamic at work. Kylie looked a bit rebellious, and Glenda was every inch the knowledgeable nurse.
“Say,” he said, “just order what you want and let Glenda yell at me. I’m not force-feeding anyone.”
Kylie looked at him and her smile returned, just a small one. “A brave man.”
“Who me?” He laughed.
Glenda spoke. “He doesn’t know me well yet.” Then she tapped the menu. “Pick whatever looks good. Just don’t go for another salad. You’re going to turn green.”
Kylie pulled the menu over in front of herself, and Coop noticed for the first time how fragile and small her hands were. She’d been a nurse? There must be more strength there than was immediately obvious. Of course, from what he’d heard, she’d been to hell and back. He figured her amnesia had to be a good thing.
But what did he know? he asked himself as he stepped outside at last with the list. The late-afternoon sun still bathed the world, though the air was growing chillier as evening approached.
He noticed the light. Light could be a good thing, providing clear sight lines and plenty of warning of bad things that might come. On the other hand, darkness had its advantages, too, like lots of cover. Odd to reflect that there’d been a time when he hadn’t much noticed the passage of hours or light, but over the years in the marines he’d become alert to its every shift and change. Just as he’d become highly attuned to changes in the wind, the barometric pressure, the movement of clouds, the whisper of even slight breezes. Acutely attuned to sounds, constantly cataloging them as natural or not.
He figured it would be a while before he settled into comfortably walking streets without being on guard.
But even as he noted the late-afternoon changes in the light and the town around him, his thoughts kept trailing back to Kylie Brewer. He’d seen that look in other eyes, that look of a terror that wouldn’t quite go away no matter how safe the situation. He’d seen that terror break grown men when it wouldn’t quit.
He hoped it wouldn’t break Kylie. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what had put it there, but that fear had evidently been stamped on her soul at a level so deep no memory was needed.
He hoped Glenda understood that. But how could she? She’d probably never dealt with anything like this.
But he had. A sigh escaped him as he pulled up in front of the diner. He would only be here a few weeks, but he felt an unexpected need to try to help Kylie in some way.
Fear like that wouldn’t just wash away. Sometimes it took years to drain. But maybe he could help it on its way.
Then he wondered if he was going to spend his time off by setting himself a new mission. It wouldn’t surprise him. He could have laughed at himself.
*
Glenda used the time to get Kylie settled into her old bedroom. She noted the way Kylie moved around, touching things, items that Glenda had taken care to put exactly where they had been before Kylie had moved out, including her pile of stuffed animals. The doc said she needed familiarity, so Glenda had ensured it was there.
She was relieved to see her sister’s face relaxing as she caressed various items. “I can’t believe it’s still the same.”
“No reason to change it,” Glenda half lied. “Your house, too.”
Kylie sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t remember,” she said finally. “I barely remember Brad, except what you told me about him, and your divorce...”
“Was about as ugly as they come,” Glenda answered frankly. She sat in the Boston rocker facing the bed. “I wish I could forget it.”
“But why so ugly?”
“Brad.” Glenda shrugged. “Apparently it wasn’t enough to leave me—Brad wanted to gut me, too.”
“Did he succeed?”
“Maybe a little. Anyway, he’s gone.”
She watched Kylie look down and run her fingers over the quilt that their grandmother had made. Then Kylie spoke. “You interested in Coop?”
Glenda blinked, then laughed almost helplessly. “Hell, no. He’s nice and everything, but Brad kind of killed my interest in the whole idea of happily-ever-after.”
Kylie sighed and returned her gaze to her sister. “That seems so wrong.”
“I’ll get over it. Once the stitches come out of the scars.”
That elicited a small, welcome laugh from Kylie. “Still? What an image.”
“Well, I’m a nurse, and that’s how I feel sometimes. I’m glad you weren’t around for it. I’d probably have soured you on half the human race.”
“You were angry?”
Glenda had to remind herself that Kylie wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a thing. All those furious phone calls, nasty texts, the bellyaching...all of it erased for Kylie except for the brief updates Glenda had given her while she packed Kylie for this move. And there didn’t seem to be any point in filling in more of the blanks. Some things were better forgotten.
“I was very angry,” she said finally. “Still am sometimes. But it doesn’t matter. What was it Grandma used to say? Good riddance to bad cess?”
Another sound of amusement escaped Kylie. “I’d almost forgotten she said that.”
“Well, I’ve had a million reasons to remember it thanks to Brad. At least he had the decency to move to San Francisco. Although I guess that means I’ll never visit the place now.”
Kylie tilted her head, smiling faintly. “It’s a big city. You’d probably never run into him.”
“Just my luck that I would.” But Glenda noted that despite her smile, a shadow moved over Kylie’s face. Probably thinking about visiting strange cities didn’t feel good right now.
While she spent a lot of time with Kylie being upbeat and cheerful, she was concealing a whole lot of concern for her sister. The amnesia was a worry because it resulted partly from brain damage. And while the neurologists had felt that the brain would reconstruct a great many connections with time, there could be repercussions that nobody had discovered yet. And then there was the whole big future facing her, with the loss of her dreams and no apparent desire to start them over again.
Aw, hell, Glenda thought. Too bad life didn’t provide magic wands. Somehow she didn’t think this journey of recovery was going to be easy for Kylie. Not one little bit.
It wasn’t as if Kylie could even go back to work as an RN. Not yet. Not until they could be sure what she’d forgotten and what she hadn’t, and whether there were other as yet undetected problems.
But that could wait. In the meantime, Glenda decided, her sister needed some kind of equilibrium, and she hoped she could provide it here.
Then they could worry about everything else.
Chapter 2
After Glenda left for work, Kylie sat in the living room and found herself wishing Coop was there, stranger though he was. She hadn’t been alone for more than a minute or two since her attack. Either in the hospital, or later when Glenda had brought her back to her apartment to pack, the only solitary time she had experienced had been in the bathroom or when her sister went out to grab food.
She wasn’t enjoying it. As the evening shadows lengthened and day faded into night, her skin began to crawl. She knew she was safe here, in her own home, miles away from the attacker who had nearly killed her, but some part of her seemed unable to believe it yet.
Time, she reminded herself. Time would help her get past the unreasoning fear. There was no reason whatsoever to believe that her attacker would even look for her again. None. The cops had told her that. It wasn’t as if she could identify the man who did this, and they’d made sure word had gotten out through the press that she had amnesia. To protect her. She should feel grateful for that, but instead she felt as if her failings had been announced to the world. See Kylie Brewer, the woman with amnesia. God.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said aloud in a muffled voice, her tongue practically sticking to the roof of her dried mouth. “You’re home. No one outside this town knows where you are. It’s just a neighbor.”
The knock came again. She had to answer it. Someone might be looking for Glenda. It could be important. Or maybe it was Coop, locked out. She had no idea whether Glenda had given him a key.
On stiff legs that didn’t want to move easily, she rose and walked toward the front door. Her feet felt leaden. Shaking, she finally turned the latch on the dead bolt and opened the door.
A familiar, smiling face greeted her. Todd Jamison, a man she had known most of her life, one she had dated in high school. Surprise replaced shock and she gaped at him. “Todd?”
His smile was warm. He was still a handsome man, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a white dress shirt with his jeans. “Hey, Kylie. I heard you were back and I wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay. Is that all right?”
Knowing him eased her fears. Not that she felt entirely comfortable—in fact, she felt edgy—but she couldn’t blame him for that. Nor could she slam the door in his face when he’d been kind enough to come by and check on her.
“I’m tired,” she admitted honestly, “but a few minutes is okay.”
So she let him inside, reminding herself of all the years Todd had been part of her life, whether as a classmate or briefly as someone she had dated. Somehow, however, when she closed the door behind him, the ants began to crawl along her nerves again. God, she had to stop feeling as if threats hovered in every moment of the day. She’d never be able to do anything with her life if she became a hermit terrified of other human beings.
She didn’t offer him coffee or tea because she hoped he wouldn’t stay long, and she tried to remind herself that she’d just been wishing she weren’t alone. Now she wasn’t alone.