The night the police showed up at her doorstep three years ago had left a permanent black mark inside both of them. Unfortunately, Kam too. No one—not a child, not a wife, not a father—should have to see a loved one be put in handcuffs only to be led outside where snipers hired by unhappy investors waited. Unhappy investors with a penchant for exacting revenge, mafia-style. Alex was skimming money out of their multi-million dollar accounts through the bank where he worked as a financial advisor. A stupid move, but Johanna knew why he’d done it.
For Kallie.
Seven months prior to Alex’s arrest, the diagnosis had come. Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. Kallie had been a perfectly normal baby, just like Kam. In fact, they developed along in an eerily similar fashion, deciding to crawl on the same day, take their first steps on the same day, say their first word—Pep—on the same day. Johanna and Alex joked that the twins didn’t want to do anything unless they did it together.
But then they received the news, and Kallie’s illness progressed rather quickly. She wasn’t going to win the battle. Not unless they could get her into a new, experimental treatment program. An expensive, experimental treatment program. Alex thought he had found a way to get the money. Johanna hadn’t questioned him. She was too distraught over the prospect of losing one of her babies.
It happened anyway.
The night Alex was led out of the house by the authorities, Kallie had been blessed—or cursed perhaps—with an unusual burst of energy. The four of them had been playing Twister in the living room when the doorbell rang. Alex answered, was cuffed, and pulled out onto the front walkway. Kallie ran after him but was gunned down by the snipers hiding in the field across from the front yard. They hadn’t been able to get at Alex surrounded by the police, but they’d delivered their employers’ messages just the same.
Don’t screw with us.
Alex took one look at Kallie sprawled and lifeless on the ground in the front yard and lost it. He managed to get one of the officers’ guns, fire into the shadows, and hit one of the snipers. Guilty of more than embezzlement now, he was hustled into a squad car while police returned fire on the snipers.
Their sweet, innocent Kallie was gone.
“I think he might puke,” Kam announced as he came into the kitchen, his voice pulling Johanna back to the present.
“Why?” She got up from the kitchen table where she’d been drinking some lemonade and stepped into the hallway. She peered toward the guestroom.
Kam shrugged as he climbed onto one of the stools at the kitchen island and rested his elbows on the countertop.
“We’ll let Holden sleep. He’ll feel better after he’s rested.” She came back into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, which brought Miles immediately around. “What shall we cook for our guest?” Maybe preparing a meal would push the memories of Kallie, of Alex back where she stored them so she could still function, still care for Kam, still breathe. She nudged Miles back with her knee.
Kam sidled up next to her and scanned the shelves while petting the dog. “Spaghetti and meatballs. We also need to make some popsicles.”
“Popsicles?”
“Yeah. In case he pukes.”
“I see.” Johanna took out the container full of meatballs and sauce she’d made yesterday. “Why don’t you make the popsicles? You know what to do.”
Kam shook his head. “The magic only works if you make them.”
“Magic? What magic?” She brought the container to the kitchen island and stared at Kam. She never tired of looking at her perfect son. Thank God for him.
“I don’t know. Mommy Magic.” Kam giggled and beamed a smile at her that one day would melt young girls’ hearts.
“I’m not sure Holden needs Mommy Magic, but I’ll make the popsicles anyway.” Johanna kneeled and pulled a basket from the lower cabinet. “Go pick two tomatoes, a green pepper, some lettuce, and a carrot from the garden and make the salad.”
Kam took the basket. “Okay.” He started for the back porch door then turned around. “Where’s Pep?”
“He’s been banished to the barn.”
“Until he can be nice to Holden?”
“Something like that.”
“I’ll talk to him.”
Kam left the house, and Johanna wondered how a kid his age could be so mature sometimes. It was like having a little man in the house. Would Kallie have been like that too, or was Kam a product of his environment? An environment without a father, without a twin sister.
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Johanna said. “Focus on spaghetti and meatballs.”
And she did. For the next thirty minutes, she boiled pasta, heated sauce and meatballs, and made garlic bread from leftover rolls. She made popsicles as Kam put the salad together and set the table for four. Ted came into the house as Johanna was tossing the spaghetti with the sauce.
“Hinge is replaced.” He washed his hands at the sink.
“Thanks.” Johanna patted Ted’s shoulder. “Not raining out there yet?”
“Nope, but it’s going to. The cows are acting weird like they always do before a storm.”
“Kam, go round up Miles and feed him, while I check in on our guest.” She ushered Kam out of the house then turned to Ted. “Look, I know you don’t agree with me taking Holden in, but put yourself in his shoes.”
“I am. That’s what has got me worried.” He dried his hands on the dish towel. “Think about it. You’re a single, attractive woman with a heart too big for her chest. He’s a handsome guy around your age who already has your sympathy. It’d be so easy to take advantage of you, Johanna.”
“So I’m nice, but stupid. Is that what you’re saying?” Johanna hardly ever fought with Ted. He’d done so much for her and Kam, but this protective bit was grating on her nerves.
“I know you’re not stupid. I just want that guy to know I’m watching him.”
“I think he knows. You’ve been ever so subtle.” Johanna brought the bowl of spaghetti to the table. “Be civil, okay? For me?”
Ted sifted out a breath. “Fine. For you.”
Johanna nodded and headed for the hallway.
“But I’m still going to be watching him,” Ted called after her.
Rolling her eyes, Johanna focused on the guestroom door. She knocked softly, expecting Holden not to answer because he was sleeping deeply.
“Come in,” was what she heard instead.
After turning the knob slowly, she eased the door open. He’s awake, idiot. Why are you trying to be quiet?
She pushed the door open with more force and though the shades on the windows were drawn, Holden’s form on the bed was in plain view.
“Did you get some sleep?” She hovered at the threshold suddenly afraid to set foot in her own guestroom.
“Can’t.” Holden pushed to sitting.
“I thought you were exhausted.” She flicked on the bedside lamp and liked how the soft light illuminated Holden’s features.
“I am.” He rubbed his eyes. “But every time I try to get serious about snoozing, I think about not remembering stuff and I can’t relax.” He slid his legs over the side of the bed and sat with his elbows resting on his knees.
“There wasn’t any medication the doctor gave you, right?” Even sleep deprived, the man was sexy. Stubbly dark whiskers framed his mouth and jaw. Those blue eyes, though slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep, had the ability to enchant her. His full lips looked soft and capable.
Maybe she was the one that needed medication.
“The doctor said aspirin for the headache. No prescriptions for anything.” Holden looked up at her. “But I hear you make magical popsicles capable of curing ailments.”
“Ailments of little boys anyway. The ailments of full grown men probably require something stronger than popsicles.” Something involving lingerie, perhaps? Johanna diverted her gaze to the crack of light showing from the window. Surely any lingerie she had was moth-eaten by this point.
Clearing her throat
and pushing away thoughts of silk and lace, she said, “Dinner’s ready. You hungry?”
Holden stood and patted his stomach. “I think so. At least eating will give me something to do besides stew about everything I don’t know about myself.”
“Give it time. You know how you sometimes forget an actor’s name in a movie or a song title or the author of a book? Then you’re doing some mundane task like vacuuming, and suddenly it pops into your head. This is probably like that. It’ll all come back to you.”
“What if it doesn’t?” Holden’s eyes widened as he pulled at the hem of his T-shirt. Vulnerable was an excellent look on him. Johanna felt awful for finding his uneasiness attractive. What is wrong with you?
“C’mon out to the kitchen.” She turned on her heel and nearly tripped over Miles, but a hand on her biceps kept her from falling to the ground.
“He appeared out of nowhere.” Holden let his hand slip from Johanna. He studied his fingers for a second then shoved that hand into his pocket.
“Miles likes rounding things up, people included.” She scratched the dog between the ears until his tail nearly wagged right off his rear end.
Holden stepped around her and dropped his hand again for the dog to sniff. Miles investigated Holden from all angles, and deeming him acceptable, allowed Holden to kneel and pet him. Within moments, the dog was on his back, legs splayed to either side of his body, little happy yips sounding every now and then.
“Great dog.” Holden wrapped up his petting and stood.
“Stupid dog.” Ted appeared in the hallway. “You’d think the mutt would be compelled to protect his owner.”
“Maybe she doesn’t need protecting.” Holden leaned against the wall behind Johanna. He was close. Very close. Not close enough.
“Don’t get comfortable, man. This isn’t your house.” Ted stepped closer making Johanna feel sandwiched.
She put a hand to Ted’s chest and pushed him back. “It’s not yours either, Ted.” Catching his gaze, she said, “You promised me you’d behave.”
Ted let out a grumble and walked back into the kitchen.
“I fear I’m going to be apologizing for him. Repeatedly.” She sighed and started for the kitchen. A hand on her wrist stopped her. Holden’s touch sent a signal right down to those girl parts she’d been neglecting since Alex divorced her.
“No need to apologize for him. I get it. He feels responsible for you,” Holden said.
“Something like that.” She shook off his hold before it could affect her any deeper and entered the kitchen.
“Mom, can I have soda tonight?” Kam wiggled his empty glass from his seat at the table.
“No soda.” Johanna shook her head. “Growing boys need milk.”
“Everyday?” Kam asked.
“Everyday,” Holden answered.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be on my side. Men stick together.” Kam accepted the milk Johanna poured into his glass with a frown.
“No,” she said. “It’s about time someone was on my side of an issue.”
“I’m on your side,” Ted said.
“On some things. Most things, you’re on Kam’s side.” She held up the bottle of root beer to Holden. He shook his head and pointed to the milk. Bonus points for setting a good example.
“Can’t let the boy be defenseless,” Ted said. “Men do stick together.” He bumped his fist to Kam’s before passing the salad bowl to Holden. “Rabbit food?”
“Thanks.” Holden took the bowl and filled his plate.
“I made the salad,” Kam announced. “Do you remember how to make a salad, Holden?”
Holden studied his plate for a moment. “Yes, I believe I do. Not helpful to remember that, but there it is.” His brows lowered as he surveyed the other foods on the table. “I remember all these dishes, but not if I like them.”
“I’d hate it if I couldn’t remember liking Mom’s chocolate cake.” Kam loaded his salad with Italian dressing, and Johanna took the bottle from him before he completely drowned the lettuce. “You’re making it for my birthday party next week, right?”
“I think you should make carrot cake.” Ted put a napkin on his lap, and Kam put his fork down to do the same.
“Yuck.” Kam scrunched up his nose. “Carrot cake is for old people.”
Holden barked out a laugh, then slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.” He unfolded his napkin and placed it across his lap like Ted and Kam. He held up his glass of milk. “To people who are nice to strangers.” He nodded at Johanna and Kam. “And to Ted.”
Kam and Johanna giggled, and Ted’s scowl morphed into a lop-sided half grin.
“To amnesiacs.” Ted held up his root beer then took a big gulp. “Let’s chow.” He dove into his salad, and Kam and Holden did the same.
Johanna loved the look of a full dinner table. So many times, she and Kam sat at the kitchen island, just the two of them, eating dinner. It was a little livelier when Ted joined them, but still, something was always missing.
Except tonight.
Tonight, watching Ted, Kam, and Holden finish their salads and move onto the spaghetti and meatballs, Johanna felt oddly complete. She’d convinced herself all she needed was Kam, and for the most part, that was true. He was her sun and stars. Her reason for breathing. He filled her heart.
Almost.
There was always that piece. That cavernous section that had been vacant since Alex was arrested and Kallie died. Losing both husband and child in one cruel zap of destiny had caused Johanna to shut the door on that area of her heart, to block out the pain that throbbed there. Watching Holden interact with Kam, she got a sense of how things should be, how they could be.
Don’t do that. She mentally wagged a finger at herself. Not wise to insert Holden into this scenario. He was merely a guest. Only staying a few days, tops. He’d be gone before she knew it. No sense in making him into more than he was. She didn’t even know the man.
Johanna focused on her dinner and the meaningless small talk that carried them to a dessert of homemade popsicles. When the first plip-plops of rain sounded on the porch, Kam and Ted went out to the barn with Miles for one final check on the cows while Holden brought dishes up to the kitchen sink.
“You don’t have to do that, Holden.” Johanna took the plates from him. “Go rest.” His eyes were glassy, but still the bluest blue she’d ever seen.
“We both know if I go into that guestroom, I’m not going to sleep. Think I have to keep going until I physically drop.”
A thought of what they could do to exhaust him flashed into Johanna’s mind. She closed her eyes and turned toward the sink. “You have to let the popsicles work their magic.” She wiggled her fingers at him.
“I have great faith in the popsicles.” Holden bowed slightly. “Maybe next time you can put the magic in a beer.”
“And your favorite beer is?”
“Sam Adams.” Holden’s eyes widened.
“You seem pretty sure about that.” Johanna filled the dishwasher, then dumped the leftover spaghetti into a container. Holden took the container and put it in the refrigerator.
“I am sure about that.” A shocked tilt to his eyebrows made his eyes all the more piercing. And sexy. Definitely sexy.
Johanna cleared her throat and turned back to the sink. “See. I told you. You’re trying too hard to remember. I caught you off guard with that question, and you didn’t hesitate with an answer.”
“And now I really want a beer.”
“The milk at dinner didn’t do it for you?”
“Not even close.”
“But it was nice of you to set an example for Kam. I appreciate it.”
“Least I can do to repay you.” He leaned against the counter beside her.
What was the most he could do?
Chapter Six
Holden undressed in the guestroom and hopped into the shower in the adjacent bathroom. As the hot water ran down his back, he studied the pale green tiles lining the wall in
front of him. To his right, a tan shower curtain with leaves on it rippled in the breeze created by the overhead fan.
You remembered beer. That had to count for something. Details like that added up to create a life, right? His life. Remembering one stupid tidbit could unlock the other important things that were lost to him. He had to believe that.
He soaped up his body, careful not to be too rough around the stitches on his arm. The temptation to scrape them right off to relieve the itching was almost overwhelming, but he managed to lather and rinse without incident. Working around the stitches on his head, he shampooed his hair with…something green.
“No Tears Ectoplasm, Kiwi Scented,” he read off the bottle shaped like a creepy green alien. Right. Kam had prepared the guest bathroom for him and had even shared his extra-terrestrial shampoo. A nice thought even if it made him feel slightly slimed. At least it smelled nice. Who knew ectoplasm had a fragrance like kiwis?
He finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. Back in the guestroom, he stood in front of the closet and surveyed the clothes in there. Mostly jeans and cargo pants hung from the long bar spanning the closet. A few neatly folded piles of T-shirts sat on shelves along with some cotton shorts. Work boots lined the floor. Four business suits and several dress shirts were tucked toward the far left of the closet.
Weird to be wearing clothes left behind by an inmate. But he didn’t have a choice. Not right now anyway. Maybe tomorrow he could get Johanna to take him somewhere to buy some clothes. He had his wallet, which had money and a credit card in it. He assumed the card was all paid up and that a few purchases wouldn’t put him in debt. It’d be real convenient if he could remember that shit, but no, he remembered beer instead.
Rolling his eyes, he selected a green T-shirt and a pair of gray cotton shorts. It was only 8:30, but that bed was calling his name now, and he might actually be able to sleep. He crawled onto the bed with the little strength he still had. As soon as his head hit the pillow, a horrible siren blared outside.
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