by Sue Brown
“Where are you now? Do you need the Coast Guard?”
“I’m back at the cottage.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Toby said. “I can’t wait to hear this story.”
Gabriel disconnected the call on Toby’s gleeful tone and looked down at the man. He looked young, maybe early to midtwenties. He had delicate features, although they were marred by the large bruise covering his temple. His dark lashes swept over his cheeks, and a spray of freckles were a sharp contrast to his pale skin. Uncomfortable at staring at the man, even if he wasn’t aware, Gabriel picked up the clothes and headed into his laundry room. He stripped off his sweater and jeans, shoved all the wet clothes into his washing machine, and took the detergent pods from the top shelf where they’d always been kept out of Michael’s reach. Shivering so much his teeth chattered, Gabriel dried himself off with a towel and then redressed in sweats and a hoodie. As he pulled it over his head, he heard Toby calling his name.
Even though he’d only had to walk around the corner, Toby was soaked through. He stripped off his coat and hung it on a hook by the front door.
“Hey. I hope you’ve got the coffee on. Where’s your guest?”
Gabriel’s breath caught as it did every time he saw his wife’s brother. Jenny and Toby had been twins, and his features were almost identical. Sometimes—always—it hurt Gabriel just to look at him. “He’s on the sofa, and I’ll go put the coffee on.”
“You left him alone?” Toby said disapprovingly.
“He’s unconscious, and I needed to change.” He led the way to the sofa. The man hadn’t moved at all. “See, he’s fine.”
Toby snorted as he knelt by the unconscious man’s side and took his wrist. “Is that your professional opinion, Dr Pennant?”
“Shut up.”
“Get the fire started. It’s freezing in here.”
Gabriel huffed but did as he was told. He knew from experience that it was simpler just to do what Toby wanted. “Make up your mind. Coffee or fire?”
“You’re a big boy. You can do both. His pulse is strong, and his colour is good,” Toby observed.
“He’s been unconscious since I found him. Shouldn’t he be awake by now?”
Toby examined his head. “He’s got a nasty bump on the back of his head as well as the bruise on his temple.” He flashed a light in his eyes. “But his pupils are reacting, and he’s warming up.”
“Should we get him to hospital? What if he’s got a concussion?”
“In any other circumstances, I’d say yes, but a tree fell a couple of yards out of the village. One of the old ones. No one’s going anywhere tonight.” Toby sat back on his heels and looked up at Gabriel. “He’s going to need to stay here until the tree is cleared.”
Gabriel stared at him in horror. “He can’t stay here.”
Toby frowned at him. “He’ll have to, Gabriel. He’s got nowhere else to go until the roads are cleared.”
“Can’t you take him? You’ve got beds in the clinic.”
“I need to keep the clinic free for emergencies. You’re not my first call this evening. Poor old Bob got hit by a falling branch.”
“Is he all right?”
Old Bob lived a couple of roads away from Gabriel. No one was sure how old he was, and Bob wasn’t telling, but he lived by himself without any assistance from interfering do-gooders. His words.
“A dislocated collarbone and cuts and bruises,” Toby said. “He was very lucky and bitching about going home.”
“Our John Doe is unconscious,” Gabriel pointed out. “Isn’t that an emergency?”
“John Doe?” Toby’s lips twitched. “You going all cop show on me? John is safe, warm, and with someone who can monitor him. That’s you, in case you didn’t know.” Toby got to his feet. “Call me if there’s any change in his condition.”
“You can’t leave me with him.” Gabriel’s voice rose as Toby picked up his coat. His hands clenched into fists. “I can’t do this.”
The man had to go. Gabriel had found him, but he couldn’t look after him. He couldn’t look after anyone.
Toby must have caught Gabriel’s panic, because his amusement slipped away and he squeezed Gabriel’s arm. “You can, Gabriel. I know John’s unconscious, but he’s breathing just fine, and his lungs are clear at the moment. Just sit with him, and if his condition deteriorates, call me.”
“Can’t Damien sit with him?”
“Damien can’t handle anyone who’s ill. You know that.”
Gabriel growled under his breath. Toby’s husband wasn’t known for his caring nature, which most of the time, Gabriel found amusing. Not now, though. “I thought you wanted coffee.”
Toby shrugged on his coat. “The coffee is for you. I’ll call you in an hour.”
“Make it thirty minutes.”
“An hour. Call me if you have to.”
With that, Toby left Gabriel standing in the middle of his lounge, wondering what the hell to do next. He knelt down next to his unwanted guest. He was still quiet, but his colour was good, and he was breathing steadily. Gabriel touched his cheek with the back of his hand and was relieved to feel he was much warmer. His hair was still wet, and he thought about trying to dry it, but he decided to leave him as he was until he woke up. For the sake of his sofa, he fetched a dry towel and replaced the one under his head, noting for the first time the coppery glints in the long hair.
Then Gabriel made himself a cup of coffee—because he wanted one, not because of Toby—and then sat in the armchair by the fire, appreciating the crackling warmth and dry clothes. Drinking the hot coffee soothed his irritation and concern. Outside, the wind had arrived in full force and the rain was even heavier. In the distance he could hear banging, as though a door was unlatched, but he wasn’t going to venture outside again until the storm had abated. He looked over at his visitor. John had been really lucky Gabriel had spotted him. In another minute he’d have left the clifftop.
He was almost dozing when the man moaned. Gabriel sat bolt upright and looked at John. He was still, and Gabriel almost thought he’d imagined it when John’s eyes opened and he stared up at the ceiling.
“Hey.” Gabriel knelt beside the sofa. “How are you feeling?”
John turned toward the sound of his voice. Gabriel watched as he tried to focus on him and then shrank back as he saw him, confusion and panic in his expression. He couldn’t help noticing his stunning dark grey eyes were the colour of the sea that had nearly claimed his life.
“Where—?” His voice sounded rusty. “Kill me?”
What the hell?
“You’re okay. You’re safe now,” he assured John, who still looked panicked. “My name’s Gabriel, Gabriel Pennant. You’re in my cottage. You’re safe, I promise.”
“How—how did I get here?”
“I found you on a boat.” Gabriel rested his fingertips on the pulse at the man’s wrist. It beat faster, but that wasn’t surprising, as he was in a panic.
“A boat?” He stared at him bewildered. “I was in a boat?”
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “You just relax. We can talk about this later.”
“Okay.”
John closed his eyes and seemed to fall back to sleep. Gabriel waited, but he didn’t stir, so Gabriel got to his feet and stretched. He picked up his mug and went to the kitchen to pour himself more coffee. Then he returned to the fireplace and resumed vigil over his sleeping guest. The colour in his face was better, his creamy skin less ashen than before.
It was another half an hour before John stirred, blinking as he woke. Gabriel put his mug down, and John focused on him, panic in his eyes.
Gabriel stayed where he was, not wanting to scare him. “You’re all right,” he said. “My name is Gabriel. You’re in my cottage, and you’re safe.” He repeated the words from before, hoping John would understand.
“Gabriel,” John said, his voice soft.
“That’s right. What’s your name?”
“Name?” John sounded
completely confused by the question.
“Yes, you do have a name, don’t you?”
“I—I don’t know what my name is?” It sounded like he was asking Gabriel a question.
“It’s okay,” he said soothingly. “You’ve taken a bump to the head. I’m sure you’ll remember your name soon enough.” Gabriel didn’t know what to do next. John was awake now. He was going to have to talk to him. “Does your head hurt?”
“Here.” John pressed the area where the bump was and the colour drained out of his face. “Oh God.” He clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Don’t do that again,” Gabriel said hastily. “I’ll get you a bowl.” He grabbed a plastic bowl from a kitchen cabinet and rushed back to the sofa. John was struggling to free his arms and sit up. “Here. Wait. Let me help you.”
The afghan slipped, and John looked down at his bare chest. “Where are my clothes?”
Gabriel had forgotten that John was almost naked under the afghan. He grabbed the fleece on the back of the chair and tucked it around John’s shoulders. “Your clothes are wet through. I didn’t want you to get pneumonia… or wreck my sofa. They’re in the washing machine.”
John nodded, although he didn’t stop staring at Gabriel as though he was wary about what he’d do next.
“Do you feel sick?” Gabriel asked.
“Only if I press the bump.” Unconsciously, his hand went to it.
Gabriel gently pushed it away. “Not a good idea. Would you like a tea or coffee?”
“I—I don’t know?”
Gabriel opened his mouth but shut it again. “I’ll make you a coffee. You stay here.”
John seemed about to argue, but he lay back, obviously exhausted, and he closed his eyes again. Gabriel escaped to the kitchen and phoned Toby.
“It hasn’t been an hour yet.” Toby sounded irritated.
“It’s almost an hour, and he’s awake.”
“John?”
“No, my mother,” Gabriel snapped. “Yes, John. Who else would it be?”
“Don’t be smart with me, Gabriel Pennant. It’s been a long and wet evening.” Toby’s tone was even sharper than Gabriel’s.
Gabriel tucked the phone under his chin, cleaned out the filter of the coffee machine, and counted to five before he spoke again. “Where are you?”
“Back at home for five minutes. Do you need me to come over? I’ve got another couple of calls, but I could visit you first.”
Gabriel was about to say “Hell, yes,” but Toby sounded exhausted. “John’s got a headache, and he doesn’t remember who he is. What can I give him?”
“Okay, give him two paracetamol for the pain, and if he falls asleep, keep waking him up.”
Gabriel groaned. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“Why should I be the only one to suffer?” Toby said. He yawned loudly in Gabriel’s ear. “I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll call if there’s a problem.”
“You do that. I might not answer.” Then Toby disconnected the call before Gabriel could say goodbye.
Gabriel shook his head. His brother-in-law drove him insane, and yeah, he loved the hell out of him even if he was a pain in the arse. Mechanically, he went through the motions of making the coffee for his guest. Milk, sugar? What the heck should he give him? He loaded up a tray with everything and waited for the coffee to drip through. Gabriel smiled wryly because he knew he was delaying the moment he had to face his unwanted guest.
Rain lashed against the kitchen window, and he sobered. John was lucky he’d been watching on the clifftop. No one had been looking out for Jenny and Michael, but today he’d been there for John. Gabriel closed his eyes, and for a moment, he felt as though Jenny’s hand were on his shoulder.
“You were there for him, my Gabriel. You were there.”
A whisper of her voice breezed through him, and for an instant, he smelt her perfume again.
“I love you, Jenny.”
“I know.”
There was a crash outside, and Gabriel was abruptly jolted from his memories. He stared out into the darkness, but all he could see was his reflection staring back at him.
Chapter 2—Sam
HE MUST have dozed again, because he heard a noise and woke up, his heart racing and the blood pounding in him ears. He blinked and focused on a large, dark-haired stranger looming over him, an oval tray in his hands.
Don’t kill me!
“It’s okay. It’s only me.” The man put the tray down on the small coffee table.
He stared up at him, unable to comprehend his words. For a moment he panicked, unsure who he was. He struggled to his feet and took a step, desperate to get away, but he was tangled in a thick blanket, and he swayed. Hands gripped his arms through the blanket, and he panicked again.
“John, calm down. It’s okay. I found you, and you’re safe. You’re in my cottage. My name is Gabriel. Remember?” It sounded like it wasn’t the first time he’d been given that information.
It was his calm tone that finally penetrated the panic, and he looked up into Gabriel’s light grey eyes. He’d got up in his panic, the afghan loosely wrapped around. Now he became conscious that he was almost naked in front of a stranger, and he clutched the afghan to him.
Why couldn’t he remember anything? It was as though there was a black hole in his mind where his life should be. His heart started pounding so hard he felt it was going to burst out of his chest, and his breathing grew choppy.
“Sit down before you fall down. The last thing you need is to bang your head again.” Gabriel manhandled him back onto the sofa, although his touch was gentle.
He wrapped himself up like a mummy, needing the protection from the world, even from Gabriel’s kindness. Then, of course, he had to fight to extricate his arms when Gabriel offered him coffee.
“I don’t know how you take it, and I don’t suppose you remember?” Gabriel said.
He hesitated, then shook his head.
“Try it black,” Gabriel suggested as he filled a mug not quite to the brim.
He took a sip and pulled a face at the bitter taste. Without a word, Gabriel took it back and added milk and sugar. This time the coffee tasted less disgusting, and he managed to swallow it.
Gabriel drank his coffee silently, his gaze focused on the fire, and he took the opportunity to stare at him without being noticed. Gabriel was tall and broad-shouldered and towered over him when they stood up. Gabriel had grey eyes too, but lighter than his, almost like ice.
Hey, he remembered he had grey eyes. Now he had to remember everything else. His host looked lost in his thoughts. From his sorrowful expression, they weren’t happy thoughts. He wondered if Gabriel had forgotten he was there.
The lights flickered, and Gabriel seemed to return to himself. He stood and stared down at him. “We’ll probably lose power at some point. I’ll get you clothes while the lights are still on.”
Gabriel disappeared, and he leaned back against the cushions, glad of a few moments to himself. The windows rattled as the storm battered the cottage. He shuddered, thinking of what almost happened to him.
Gabriel came back, looking angry, and threw a pile of clothes at him. He shrank back, not knowing what he’d done to make Gabriel so cross. “These should fit. I’ll leave you to get dressed.” Then he vanished again without saying anything else.
He was caught off guard by his anger. Gabriel had seemed kind and friendly before. Not wanting to make things worse, he hastily unwrapped the afghan and pulled on the long-sleeved T-shirt and sweatpants. He expected the clothes to be Gabriel’s, as there wasn’t any sign of a wife or husband, but these clothes were much smaller and well-worn. The T-shirt was a little tight across the shoulders, but they were infinitely better than trying to remain wrapped in the afghan and fleece. He was back on the sofa when Gabriel returned with an armful of logs. He looked relieved and angry to see he was dressed.
“Thank you for the clothes,” he said timidly.
“It�
�s fine.” Gabriel glared at the fire as he poked it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing!” Gabriel viciously poked the fire and cursed as a spark landed on his hand.
He cowered. “You’re angry.”
“I’m not angry!” Gabriel snapped. Then he sat back on his heels and inspected the burn. He rubbed his temples. “I—I’m sorry. I’m being an arse.”
“Is there a problem?” he asked. When Gabriel didn’t turn his head, he said, “Is it something to do with the clothes? I’ll take them off as soon as mine are dry.”
Gabriel seemed to collapse in on himself, the anger fading away. “I don’t expect you to do that. It’s not your fault. It’s just… the clothes were my wife’s.”
“Oh.”
Gabriel must have realised he was taken aback, because he said, “Jenny was tall and preferred men’s T-shirts and hoodies. My clothes would swamp you.”
He wasn’t sure how he felt about wearing Gabriel’s wife’s clothing. “Are you sure that’s okay with her?” He didn’t want to cause any problems for Gabriel with his wife.
“She won’t need them.” The anger was back, leaking through his attempt at patience.
He flinched away from the angry tone. “I’m sorry.”
Gabriel huffed and turned to him, grief written over his face. “Jenny is dead. She and my son died last year.”
“I’m so sorry.” What else could he say?
He watched Gabriel stab at the fire, and he couldn’t help the fear that coiled in his belly. Was he safe? Gabriel had saved him, but he obviously didn’t want him there.
Gabriel dropped the poker and sat back in his seat. He looked defeated, as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, John.”
He wrinkled his brow. “Why do you keep calling me that?”
Now it was Gabriel’s turn to look confused. “What?”
“John. You keep calling me John. Is that my name?” It didn’t sound familiar to him, but then, nothing sounded familiar.
Gabriel stared at him, and then his expression cleared. “Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s John Doe, like unidentified bodies. John Doe. Get it?”