by Gina Wilkins
“Are you in pain?”
Serena’s quiet question made him open his eyes. He hadn’t heard her approach, which indicated he’d been completely lost in his thoughts. She stood in front of the swing, bathed in the glow of the summer moon. Her hair was tousled around her unpainted face. She wore a tank top and shorts, leaving quite a bit of creamy skin bare. She was as much a part of this place as the roses and the night birds, a vital part of the peace and the charm. He was the outsider here.
He remembered that early-regained memory of Brigadoon, the magical village suspended in time whose residents were unable to leave. His initial fear had been that he would be trapped here. Now he dreaded the inevitable time when he would have to go.
“Sam? Are you okay?”
He made an effort to smile. “I’m fine. Just having another night when I can’t sleep. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“No, I was awake. My grandmother used to call these hoot owl spells—nights when your eyes just won’t stay closed.”
“Yeah. Guess I’m having a hoot owl spell.”
“So am I. I can’t seem to turn off my thoughts.”
“What are you thinking about so seriously?”
“You,” she said after only a momentary hesitation.
He stood, leaving the swing swaying behind him. He’d donned the gym shorts and a T-shirt to come outside, so he had no pockets in which to shove his hands. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his hands into his elbows in an attempt to keep them out of trouble. “Have you come up with any new theories?”
“That isn’t what I’ve been thinking about.”
“Oh?” He studied her face, trying to understand her mood.
“I’ve been thinking about how much we’ve enjoyed having you here,” she said quietly. “How much a part of our lives—of our town—you’ve become in such a short time. Less than a month, yet in some ways it seems like you’ve been here much longer than that.”
He thought of the people he’d met in this town, the ones he already knew by name and reputation. He could hardly go out now without running into someone he knew from the diner or through Serena and Marjorie. Less than a month—yes, it was a bit hard to believe.
“When you find out who you are—when your memory returns—you’ll probably go back to your old life.” She sighed lightly. “That’s the way it should be, of course, but—”
“But?”
“I—we’ll miss you,” she whispered.
He swallowed. “As you said, I’ve only been here three weeks.”
She gave a little shrug. “A lot can happen in three weeks.”
He had to agree with that. A lot could happen in three weeks. Lives could change. Friends could come and go. People could fall in love.
Now where had that thought come from? He wasn’t the type to wax romantic—at least, he was pretty sure he wasn’t. He didn’t believe in love at first sight or whirlwind courtships or other such foolishness—at least, he didn’t think he did. And he sure as hell didn’t want to be responsible for putting a look on Serena’s face like the one he’d seen in the eyes of the woman in his dreams.
“You’d better get some sleep,” he said, looking at the house, knowing if he looked at her face he would be a goner. “Tomorrow could be a long day.”
“Tomorrow could be our last day.”
He supposed that could be true. There was a distinct possibility that someone would want to lock him up tomorrow—Dan in a jail or Dr. Frank in a psych ward, he thought with a grim attempt at humor. “Yes, well…”
Their eyes met. Hers were filled with emotions he couldn’t quite interpret.
He shouldn’t have looked at her. He’d been holding his own against his libido, reminding himself of all the reasons he should keep his distance. But looking at Serena with her eyes gleaming in the moonlight, her lips slightly parted—hell, he wasn’t a statue.
He wasn’t sure which of them moved first. Maybe it was simultaneous—he opened his arms, she stepped into them. Maybe it was a force neither of them could resist that brought their mouths together. By the time the kiss ended, Sam had forgotten every reason they shouldn’t be doing this—and he had the impression he wasn’t the only one suffering from amnesia this time.
They were halfway to the guest house when he surfaced enough to regain a shred of common sense. “Serena, this really isn’t a good idea.”
“No,” she agreed, but she didn’t stop walking.
“I wouldn’t want either of us to have regrets.”
She put her hand on the doorknob to the guest house and looked over her shoulder at him. “Everyone has regrets. You learn to live with them.”
It wasn’t the most reassuring thing she could have said. Certainly not the most poetic. But he supposed it was as good an argument as any.
He followed her inside when she opened the door.
Serena wasn’t acting on impulse, exactly. Sometime during the hours when she’d tried to sleep, she’d realized that she didn’t want to let it end with Sam simply leaving—or being led away—to find his past. She wanted him to carry a few memories of her with him—and she wanted a few of her own to reminisce about in the future.
She’d reflected before that few men like Sam ever found their way to Edstown. She didn’t expect another to come along anytime soon. She remembered something Kara had said during their conversation earlier that evening. “The real regrets would have come if I’d chosen not to take a chance on love.”
Despite Serena’s usual almost obsessive caution, Kara wasn’t the only one who could take chances occasionally.
It was only a few steps across the tiny living room to the equally small bedroom. The tousled queen-size bed took up most of the floor space. Serena paused beside it, turning to face Sam. The three-way lamp on the nightstand had been left on, its bulb so dim that it barely made a difference. Sam’s face was partially shadowed, making him look as mysterious and enigmatic as she now knew him to be.
She should probably be nervous at this point. She should at least have a few qualms or misgivings. But she didn’t. Whatever happened tomorrow when the truth about Sam’s condition came out, she would always have this night.
He took a step toward her, his mouth so close to hers she could feel his breath like a warm night breeze against her skin. But he kept his hands at his sides. “It just occurred to me,” he murmured, “that there’s something you forgot to buy when you shopped for me. I’m sure you didn’t realize we’d be needing protection, but it’s rather inconvenient at the—”
She pulled a hand out of her shorts pocket, letting the dim light reflect from the shiny plastic packets in her palm.
Letting his words trail away, Sam lifted his gaze from her hand to her face. She couldn’t quite read his expression, but there was approval in his voice when he said, “Never mind.”
She tossed the packets on the bed. “I thought you’d realized by now that I don’t believe in taking risks.”
He lifted his hands to clasp her hips, holding her lightly against him. “You don’t consider this a risk?”
She slipped her arms around his neck. “I consider this a temporary lapse in judgment,” she replied candidly. “I understand everyone has them occasionally.”
“Then let’s make it worthwhile,” he murmured, and crushed her mouth beneath his.
Even as they sank together to the bed, Serena knew exactly what had clinched this decision for her. It was that air of deep-seated loneliness about him. The sadness in his bright blue eyes that had caused LuWanda to speculate that he’d survived a tragedy of some sort. Looking out from her bedroom window, she had seen him sitting alone in the garden swing, and her heart had ached in response to the downward curve of his shoulders. He needed someone tonight. He needed her.
Whatever he faced tomorrow, perhaps it would be a bit easier for him after tonight. He would know that for now, at least, he wasn’t alone.
It had not been wise of her to fall in love with a strang
er, but she would worry about that later. She had more important things to concentrate on now.
The few clothes they’d worn were easily shed. Seeming to understand that Serena needed to take this at her own pace, Sam was relatively patient while she explored him. She pressed her lips softly to assorted scars and scrapes, brushed her fingers gently over the fresh bandage on his knee, ached in sympathy for every twinge of pain he’d suffered. And then she reveled in the strength of the lean muscles beneath his bruised skin. He might be a bit battered and confused, but there was no doubt he was a strong, vibrant male in his prime—and Serena was woman enough to appreciate that.
So there, Kara.
Sam drew her mouth to his, driving all thoughts of her sister—all coherent thought, actually—from her mind. He’d obviously been patient for as long as he could. He shifted her onto her back, giving him the freedom to do some exploring of his own. His hands and lips raced over her body, pausing here and there to elicit gasps of startled pleasure from her. There were obviously some things he hadn’t forgotten at all….
He kissed her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her knees—and then kissed her with an intimacy that stole whatever breath she’d had left. By the time he returned to her mouth, her limbs were rubbery, her skin almost overly sensitized, her breathing raggedly uneven. A fire burned somewhere deep inside her, its heat almost unbearable. She squirmed from the intensity of it, craving relief even as she relished the sensations.
She tried to help him don the protection she’d provided, but her hands were shaking too hard to provide much assistance. That startled her. She rarely allowed herself to be overwhelmed with emotion.
His eyes locked with hers as he held himself poised above her. Battling a sudden attack of nerves, she searched his face, trying to read his thoughts. In so many ways he was still a stranger to her. She knew so little about him. So few solid facts. She didn’t even know his name. And yet, in some ways, she felt as if she knew him very well. And the characteristics she had observed in him during the past three weeks had been nothing but admirable.
She couldn’t believe he was a man who didn’t deserve her respect…her love. Whether he was free to accept it—well, that was something else she would have to worry about later. With a heartfelt mental apology to anyone who might be hurt by her selfish actions, she reached out to pull Sam to her.
Murmuring her name, he gathered her close, his mouth covering hers as he joined their bodies in one smooth thrust. She arched to meet him with a muffled cry of pleasure.
There were no thoughts about who he was or where he’d come from. For this night he was just Sam, the man who had come into her life so dramatically, so unexpectedly and had so effortlessly illustrated everything she had been missing. Funny. She hadn’t been fully aware that there was anything missing until she’d met him.
Even as she threw herself into the maelstrom of emotions his lovemaking evoked in her, she was aware of a slight niggling of fear at the back of her mind that after he left, she would be all too aware of the emptiness he left behind.
The dream was different this time. The woman he’d seen before was in it, but she wasn’t crying. She was laughing, as were the people who surrounded her. Men and women of about his own age, their faces as familiar to him as his own, their identities as lost to him. They were laughing, talking, gathered around a table—playing a card game, perhaps? He could almost hear their voices, almost catch their names. Did someone say the name Michael? Was someone called Kelly?
One of them, a man, spoke to him in the dream. Sam almost recognized him—was he the same man he’d imagined at the other end of a fishing boat? Tanned, brown-haired, blue-eyed, lanky. Shane. The guy’s name was Shane. Sam could almost hear him speaking in a lazy, deep drawl, calling him by name. The name Sam—no, wait, it wasn’t Sam. It was—
“Sam?”
A woman’s voice this time, disturbing his sleep, making him frown and try harder to hang on to the images.
“Sam?” More insistent this time.
He opened his eyes, blinking in the darkness, his mind filled with echoes of other voices. “What?”
Serena was leaning over him, holding the sheet to her breasts with one hand. “You were dreaming.”
“I know.” He rubbed a hand over his gritty eyes.
“I didn’t know whether I should wake you, but you seemed…agitated.”
“It’s okay.”
“You were saying something. It sounded like…” She hesitated, then whispered, “Jane. I think you were saying the name Jane. Do you…do you remember who she is?”
“It wasn’t Jane. It was Shane.” He could see the guy’s face again even as he repeated, “Shane.”
“A man?” Serena sounded both relieved and puzzled. “You remember a man named Shane?”
“Sort of. I don’t know for certain, but I think he’s a friend. Maybe…a brother.”
“A brother?” She sat up straighter, tucking the sheet beneath her arms. “Sam, this could be important. What else did you remember? His last name? Your own?”
He shook his head, his thoughts starting to clear, the images beginning to fade. “They weren’t clear memories. Just flashes, like I’ve had before. And as for the guy—Shane—I don’t really know who he is. Probably not a brother. I said that only because he felt like someone who’s been a part of my life for a long time.”
“A brother or a friend. Either way you know there are people out there somewhere who care about you. Who are missing you, maybe looking for you. There has to be a way to find them.”
His laugh sounded hollow even to him. “You seem rather anxious to get rid of me.”
“You know better than that,” she chided softly, then added, “I would think you’d be more anxious to find the answers yourself.”
He reached up to stroke her tumbled hair, smoothing it away from her face. “I rather enjoy being Sam Wallace,” he murmured. “I’m not so sure I’d like the guy I was before.”
She rested a hand on his chest, just over his heart. “I don’t know what happened to you, or how you ended up here the way you did, but there’s one thing I do know. Whatever your name is, you’re a good man. An honest man, with a kind heart and a deep sense of honor. You’ve suffered hardships, but they’ve only made you stronger. You remember friends, which means you know how to be a friend yourself. I don’t think you have anything to fear about facing your past.”
She didn’t know about the crying woman, of course. The one he’d somehow hurt so badly. But her faith in him touched him immeasurably. “I hope you’re right,” he said.
“I’m right.” She spoke with a certainty he envied. “I can’t believe amnesia would change your entire personality.”
Maybe not. But it could certainly change his circumstances. He was certain that Sam Wallace’s life was very different from the one he’d led before. For one thing, his life before hadn’t included Serena. How could it have been better than this?
Because the thought of going back to a life without her depressed him, he reached out to pull her into his arms, holding her tightly, reminding himself that at least they had the rest of this night. He didn’t want to waste a minute of it.
She let go of the sheet to wrap her arms around him, clinging to him as if her thoughts were similar to his. As their mouths met, Sam decided that he’d be perfectly content to remain right where they were. No past. No future. No doubts or uncertainties. Only this. He couldn’t imagine finding anything better, no matter what he learned tomorrow.
Before she slipped out of his bed at dawn, Sam convinced Serena to delay their trip to Dan’s office until after his shift at the diner. He assured her that Marjorie needed him that day and that the big confession to Dan could wait a few hours.
Serena made him promise not to tell Marjorie anything yet. Not until after he’d been thoroughly checked over by Dr. Frank, anyway. “Mother’s grown so fond of you,” she explained. “She’ll worry herself sick if we don’t assure her that you’re fi
ne except for your memory loss.”
Though Sam still felt guilty for the lies he’d told, it wasn’t hard for Serena to convince him to put off telling Marjorie the truth. He wasn’t quite ready to face the certain disillusionment in her kind eyes.
Telling her he’d meet her at the police station after the diner closed, he kissed Serena at his door, then watched her hurry to the main house where she hoped to slip into her room without her mother being aware that she’d been gone. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the east. He’d had very little sleep, but he certainly had no regrets about that. He felt totally revitalized by the hours he’d spent in Serena’s arms.
Breakfast at the diner was actually even busier than he’d expected. There’d been another fire during the night, a recently vacated rent house this time. The word arson was being used quite a bit. The citizens of Edstown were concerned that a firebug had moved into their area. Justine spent the morning complaining to anyone who would listen about the deteriorating state of society.
By the time the lunchtime crowd arrived, news of another crime had spread. Another business had been broken into during the night, a pawnshop this time. The break-in hadn’t been discovered until the owner had arrived to open his shop just before ten, finding that guns, jewelry and money had been taken during the night. He had a rudimentary security system, but it had been circumvented. “I told Herman a long time ago that his security system was obsolete,” one of the diners told Sam during a discussion of the crime. “These new crooks are too smart to be put off by a couple of trip wires and motion lights.”
“An arson and a burglary,” Justine fretted when she and Sam crossed paths in the kitchen as they collected orders. “The world really is going to hell in a handbasket.”
And she was thoroughly enjoying the scandal that ensued, Sam thought with a smothered smile. Residents of small towns had their own ways of finding entertainment, gossip being among the favored choices.
It was still an hour before closing time when two uniformed police officers entered the diner and asked to speak to Sam.