The Texan's Future Bride

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “If there is a child, do you think it’s yours? Or was she sleeping with William at the same time she was with you?”

  “She wasn’t with us at the same time. William will confirm that he hadn’t slept with her after his accident. But he’d been with her before, so if there is a child, it could still be his. She could have been pregnant when she’d come to the ranch and not even known it.”

  “Tell me how you feel about the possibility of Savannah having a child, Dad.”

  “I’m hoping that there isn’t one. I can’t bear the thought of her and William having a son or daughter, for his sake as much as mine. But, by the same token, I can’t handle being a father again. I’m already a lousy parent to you and Donna.”

  She extended her heart to him. After everything he’d told her, she empathized with him now. “You did the best you could.”

  “Do you still think I’m a monster for having an affair with my brother’s girlfriend?”

  “No, but I think she should have broken it off with William first. You and Savannah should have showed more restraint.”

  “Being in love messes people up.”

  “I know,” she replied, suddenly trapped in her own life, her own feelings.

  His gaze zoomed in on hers, his blue eyes filled with fatherly concern. “Is there a young man I should know about?”

  Unable to hold back, she nodded. Then she proceeded to tell him about J.D.

  Afterward, he said, “You need to tell him that you love him.”

  “But I promised him that I wouldn’t get attached, and he’s determined to leave the ranch after his memory returns.”

  He got up and sat beside her. “My affair with Savannah turned into a disaster, but at least we spoke about our feelings. In that regard, I don’t have any regrets.”

  “You’re right.” So very right. “If J.D. leaves the ranch without me telling him that I love him, I’ll regret that for the rest of my life.”

  “It’s possible that he loves you, too. But he’s too mixed up with his amnesia to realize it. Once his memory comes back, it might work in your favor.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  “Truthfully, I can’t imagine him not loving you. You’re a special girl, Jenna.”

  She put her head on his shoulder. “Thanks, Daddy.”

  “You haven’t called me that since you were little.”

  They turned to look at each other, and she smiled. “I’m glad I came here. J.D. kept telling me that I should.”

  “I think I’d like that boy.”

  “I think so, too. There’s a lot to like about him.”

  “There was a lot to like about Savannah, too. She was a foster child, and all she ever wanted was a family. I had a tough time understanding that since I was such an outsider in mine.”

  “J.D. has a connection to foster kids, too. Only he isn’t quite sure who they are to him.” She thought about his childhood dream, about his scattered memories. “Did Savannah dream while she was at the cabin?”

  “I don’t know. If she did, she never mentioned it.”

  “I haven’t dreamed while I’ve been there.”

  “Not everyone does.”

  They sat quietly, then she asked, “Does Uncle William know that you loved Savannah? Have you ever told him?”

  “No.”

  “You should tell him. You should apologize to him, too.”

  “After all of this time? Hell, we’re practically old men now.” He made a face, aging himself even more—the lines around his eyes crinkling, his lips thinning.

  “Yes, after all of this time.” She reprimanded him. “Your apology is long overdue.”

  “Do you know how difficult that’s going to be for me?”

  “No more difficult than me telling J.D. that I love him.”

  He cursed beneath his breath.

  She stared him down.

  “Okay.” He held out his hands in surrender. “I’ll go out on a limb if you will.” He lowered his hands and gentled his voice. “It would be nice if you tried to talk me up to your sister, too.”

  “I’ll try.” But first she was going to talk to J.D. If she waited, she feared her nerves would explode. She gathered her purse. “I’m going to go home now.”

  “Call me later and tell me how it went.”

  “You, too.”

  He walked her to her truck, and she climbed behind the wheel, anxious to get back to the Flying B.

  But in the evening when she arrived, Jenna entered the cabin and found J.D. staring into space.

  Worried, she asked, “What happened?” He looked as if someone had just died.

  “I know who I am.” He turned in her direction, like a zombie with its heart falling out of its chest. “I remember everything, including the murder of my wife.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Your wife? Her murder?”

  J.D. nodded, Jenna’s choppy questions echoing in his ears. His memories had come crashing back, shaking him to the core. He’d spent the last few hours holed up in the cabin remembering the most painful things imaginable.

  She dropped onto the sofa as if her knees had just buckled.

  “Kimie was gunned down at a convenience store,” he said, wishing he’d caught Jenna before she’d fallen onto the furniture. She looked as white as death. But it was Kimie who was dead. “There was a robbery in progress when she walked into the store. The gunman panicked and shot her, killing her instantly. Then he turned and fired at the clerk, a young guy who was scared out of his wits and had only worked there for a few weeks.” J.D. backed himself against the window, moving away from Jenna instead of toward her, with Kimie’s lifeless body floating in his mind. “The clerk survived the injury and served as a witness in court.”

  “The gunman was apprehended?” Her voice vibrated.

  He glanced out the window. The blinds were open, the darkness thick and vast. “He fled the scene, but he didn’t get far. He was taken into custody the same night.”

  “I’m so sorry about your wife.” She sounded tearful. “There was a moment, a couple of days ago, that I wondered if you’d been married. But it didn’t seem possible. And I never would have thought...”

  Was she misty-eyed? He didn’t want to look at her to see. “There’s nothing you can do. There isn’t anything anyone can do.”

  “I wish there was.”

  He finally glanced at her. Her eyes were damp, and he suspected that she wanted to wrap him in her arms and to try to console him. But he couldn’t bring himself to allow it, and she was obviously aware of how unapproachable he was. He stayed plastered against the window.

  “When did you lose her?” she asked.

  “Two years ago.” But it seemed like yesterday, especially with the way his memories had come crashing back.

  He glanced at Jenna again. By now she was sitting a little more forward on the sofa, and she looked as discomposed as he felt.

  She spoke quietly. “What’s your name?”

  “Joel. Joel Daniel Newman.”

  “Do you want me to call you Joel?”

  “No. I’m J.D. now. It still works as my initials.” He didn’t want to be Joel anymore. He’d been that to his wife. “Her full name was Kimie Ann Winters-Newman. We were married for six years. We were happy.” His stomach went horribly tight. “I loved her, and she loved me. We were right together. So damned right. The only thing missing in our lives were children. We’d been trying to conceive, but couldn’t. Kimie wasn’t able to. So we decided to adopt. A whole passel of kids. That was our plan.”

  Jenna didn’t reply, but she was riveted to his every word, gazing at him with her pretty blue eyes.

  He went on. “We discovered how difficult it was to adopt an infant and learned
how many foster kids were out there, needing homes.”

  “So the kids who’d been crowding your memories, who’d been left behind, are the ones you were hoping to adopt someday?”

  He nodded. “The family that can never be repaired. Kimie and me and our nonexistent children.” He paused to temper the quaver in his tone. He couldn’t bear to break down in front of Jenna. “We were also looking into foreign adoption. With me being part Cherokee and her being part Japanese, we knew what it would take to raise kids from other cultures. We knew how important it would be to keep them connected to their roots and to teach them about ours.” He considered the nickname Jenna had called him. “The sushi cowboy. Kimie would have liked that.”

  “Is she the tea drinker you were struggling to remember?”

  “Yes. She had a cup of herb tea almost every night before we went to bed. Sometimes I fixed it for her. We had this easy rhythm, knowing each other’s habits, catering to them.”

  She got teary again. “It makes sense now, the reason marriage and babies made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t because you couldn’t relate to that lifestyle. It’s because you mourned it.”

  He didn’t reply, and she went disturbingly quiet, too.

  He shattered the silence. “Do you know why your hair fascinated me? Kimie said that some of our kids would be blond. Us with our dark hair, walking around with golden-haired children.” Suddenly he wanted to touch Jenna’s fair locks, to indulge in each wavy strand. But he stayed where he was. He was confused by his feelings. He shouldn’t be thinking about Kimie while he was longing to touch Jenna. It only worsened the pain. “I should have never gotten you involved in my mixed-up life. I should have stayed at the homeless shelter.”

  “Don’t talk like that.”

  “How else am I supposed to talk?” He could tell that she was confused, too, and that he’d dragged her into something neither of them could handle.

  * * *

  Jenna ached for J.D., but she also hurt for herself. His memories were like a boomerang flying between them.

  Back and forth.

  What a horrible twist of fate. At one time J.D. had been the ultimate family man, with the qualities from Jenna’s list. Only he wasn’t emotionally available anymore. His wife was gone, taken from him in a devastating way, and Jenna was sitting on the sidelines, wishing she could heal him, but knowing she couldn’t. Telling him that she loved him was futile now.

  “Where did you meet Kimie?” she asked, trying to envision him in happier times, trying to help him feel better.

  “We went to the same high school. We saw each other around and flirted a little, but we didn’t start dating until later.”

  “How old are you?” There was so much more she wanted to know about him—this man she loved, this man who would never belong to her.

  “Thirty-three. I was twenty when Kimie and I first went out, twenty-five when we got married, and thirty-one when she died.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, not knowing what else to say yet realizing how meaningless those words were to him.

  But even so, he moved forward, slowly, and joined her on the sofa. He still seemed dazed and distant, but he was coming out of his shell, at least a little.

  “Have you talked to Doc?” she asked.

  “Not yet.” He exhaled an audible breath. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  She wondered if he would flinch if she touched him. She didn’t take the chance. They sat side by side, with no physical contact.

  “How did your visit with your dad go?” he asked, as if suddenly becoming aware of where she had been when his memories surfaced.

  “It went well. But we don’t need to talk about that right now.” There was still so much more she didn’t know about him. “Why don’t you tell me about your parents instead, and your brothers and sisters, if you have any?”

  “I don’t. But I had a happy childhood.”

  “Go on,” she coaxed.

  “My parents ran a horse farm in a small town in the Texas Panhandle, and that’s where I grew up. I get my Cherokee blood from my mom. She taught me about our ancestors. She and Dad are good people, kind and loving.” He paused. “When they retired, I purchased the farm from them, and they moved to Arizona. I loved that farm. So did Kimie.” His voice cracked. “It’s where we made our home together. After she died, my parents tried to talk me into going to Arizona and staying at their place, but I couldn’t deal with being around anyone, not even them.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “I sold the farm and started drifting. Sometimes I camped out in remote areas, for months at a time, where there wasn’t another soul around. And sometimes I stayed at motels, staring at the walls and rarely leaving the room. I drifted all over Texas, going from town to town. Small towns, like the one I’d left behind.”

  Like Buckshot Hills, she thought. “Do you recall how you were injured?” The injury that had given him amnesia and had brought him to the Flying B. “Was it a carjacking?”

  He nodded. “I stopped to help a man and a woman who appeared to be broken down by the side of the road. I was worried about the woman. That someone else might stop and something bad might happen to her. It never occurred to me that they were setting me up for a robbery.”

  Jenna understood why he’d been so quick to come to the couple’s aid. He’d obviously been thinking about Kimie. “Your heart was in the right place.”

  He didn’t comment on his heart. His broken heart, she thought.

  He said, “They must have rigged their car so it wouldn’t start. I think the woman struck me on the back of the head when I was leaning over the hood. I don’t remember the blow itself, but I remember that the man was standing beside me, so he couldn’t have been the one who hit me.”

  “Do you recall waking up?”

  He nodded. “But I was too disoriented to think clearly, to contemplate where I was or why my head hurt so damned much.”

  “How long do you think you were like that before I found you?”

  “The robbery took place about three miles from the Flying B Road. But how long I was wandering around is beyond me. They obviously stole my truck. They also got my cell phone, my I.D. and some cash and credit cards from my wallet, but my social-security card is in a safe-deposit box and the bulk of my money is in an investment account. There wasn’t any evidence of the account in my belongings, so it’s unlikely they know about it. And even if they discovered it existed, they wouldn’t have been able to access it without drawing attention to themselves.”

  “Thank goodness for that. When are you going to call Deputy Tobbs and give him this information and tell him who you are?”

  “Tomorrow. I’m too worn out to do it now. I’ve got too much going on inside me.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “How could I have forgotten her, Jenna?”

  “Because it was too painful to remember.” She stated the obvious, wishing, once again, that she could ease his sorrow, but knowing she couldn’t. She’d never felt so helpless or so useless.

  “It still seems wrong to have blocked her from my mind. Instead of remembering Kimie, I was falling for you.”

  Falling...

  She’d been falling, too, only with the word love attached. J.D. wasn’t making that claim. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You have a right to keep living.”

  “I don’t want that right. I want to disappear. I want to keep running.”

  “You can’t drift forever.”

  “Yes, I can. I have enough money in my investment account to keep me going for a long time. And when it runs out, then I’ll get ranch jobs, like this one. Temporary work so I don’t have to put down roots. I don’t ever want to put down roots again. It isn’t worth it.”

  She looked into his eyes, trying to see the man he’d once been. But all she s
aw was emptiness. Still she said, “Maybe someday you’ll feel differently.”

  He stood up and moved away from the sofa. “I’m going to pay you back for your hospitality, like I wanted to from the beginning.”

  “You know that doesn’t matter to me.”

  “It matters to me, and now that I know I have money in the bank, I can give you what I owe you.”

  “If it makes you feel better, go ahead.”

  “I wonder if I should go to a motel tonight. I have enough cash from my wages for a few nights stay, and I—”

  “What? Why?”

  “I can’t sleep in the same bed with you, Jenna. I wish I could, but after remembering Kimie...”

  “Don’t leave the ranch. Not this soon. Wait until you talk to Deputy Tobbs and get everything sorted out. I’ll go back to the main house, and you can stay here by yourself.”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.”

  “You aren’t putting me out. I wouldn’t be staying in the cabin if you weren’t here, anyway. Besides, maybe you’ll have a comforting dream tonight.”

  “About Kimie?” His voice jumped. “Do you think that’s possible?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s worth a shot.”

  “Then I’ll stay here. Thank you.”

  Jenna got up, and they gazed awkwardly at each other.

  “You’ve been such a good friend all along,” he said. “And you still are.”

  “I want what’s best for you.” And sharing his bed wasn’t in his best interest, not when he wanted to be alone. “I should pack my things now.”

  She went into the bedroom, trying to hold herself together, to keep from crying in earnest. Finally she was ready, everything shoved into her suitcases.

  He loaded them into her truck. “You look like you’re going on a major trip.”

  But she was only going to another house on the same property. So close, yet so incredibly far, she thought. She was going to miss snuggling in J.D.’s arms tonight. She was going to miss him for the rest of her life.

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said. “And if you see Doc, will you tell him what’s going on and that I’ll talk to him tomorrow, too?”