Circumstantial Memories

by Carol Ericson

  “Pretty much.” Ryder grabbed one of the bags from the nightstand, pulled out the jelly beans and ripped open the bag. “Like I said, you were in a rough place. Your father died less than a year before you met Jeremy. He charmed you, made you laugh, made you want to take hold of life with both hands again.”

  “Then he betrayed me…and you.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, Julia. We were all taken in by Jeremy, even the agency.” He held out a handful of jelly beans after picking out all the black ones. “You don’t like the black ones.”

  He poured the jelly beans into her palm, and she pinched a purple one between her fingers. “Who killed Jeremy and why? And whoever it was, do you think they got the disc I brought to Jeremy?”

  “Probably a foreign agency murdered him. Maybe the same agency he planned to sell the disc to. Maybe they didn’t want to pay him. Maybe they smelled a double cross. A million things could’ve happened. Even if Brody didn’t bring you out of your trance when he did, you may not have the answer.”

  “Did anything happen after Jeremy’s murder? Was any information compromised?”

  “Not that we know of. The movie’s starting. Do you want to watch it or continue poking around your brain?”

  She shook her head and popped the jelly bean into her mouth, biting into the sweet grape flavor. “My brain’s done for the night.”

  “Then get up here and get comfortable.” He punched a stack of pillows beside him on the bed.

  She crawled up next to him and wedged her back against the headboard. “This better be funny because I’m ready to laugh.”

  Giggling and snorting at the juvenile antics of the characters on the small screen with her thigh pressed firmly against Ryder’s, Julia experienced a comfort in her own skin that she usually felt only when holding Shelby in her arms.

  When the movie ended, she didn’t want to retreat to her own room and a cold bed. “Do you want to watch the historical drama that’s on next?”

  “Sure, do any heads roll in this one? I only watch historical dramas with lots of blood and gore.”

  “It’s the French Revolution. I’m sure heads are going to roll.”

  “I’m in.”

  “I’m going to brush my teeth first.” She rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom where they put the toothbrushes and floss. How long could she stall and make this moment last with Ryder?

  When she returned to the room, Ryder had scrunched down farther on the bed, his long legs crossed at the ankles and his feet nearly reaching the foot of the mattress.

  “Any blood yet?” She bounced next to him on the bed.

  “Not yet, but it’s looking pretty good.”

  She snuggled next to him, her cheek brushing his shoulder. If he took her in his arms right now, if he kissed her…well, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

  Instead he rubbed the top of her foot with his, and her toes curled again. If she couldn’t have the kiss, this was almost as good.

  Warm, safe, secure. She remembered these feelings with this man. When would Ryder McClintock finally tell her what they had meant to each other in her past life? Maybe if she had a spine like the old Julia, she’d ask him.

  SHE GRIPPED the handle of the car door and tugged at it, peering over her left shoulder at the man charging out the front door of the house.

  “Julia!”

  The explosion ripped through the little stucco house, a ball of orange flames ringed in black smoke huffing out to encompass the angry man shouting her name.

  Now screaming her name.

  “Julia!”

  Her cheekbone throbbed where he’d punched her, and the heat from the inferno scorched her back. She had to get away. She had to protect her baby.

  “Julia!”

  The fire alarm cut through the smoke and flames, an insistent blaring sound that mixed with the man yelling her name.

  “Julia!”

  She jerked awake to find herself in a sitting position, clasped in Ryder’s arms.

  “Julia, wake up.”

  Her nostrils flared at the acrid smell of smoke and she thrashed her legs, kicking Ryder’s shin.

  “We have to get out.” Ryder pushed up from the bed, his arm wrapped around her waist. He stuffed her shoes inside his boots and yanked them from the floor with one hand. “Let’s go.”

  He half dragged her out of the room, while she rubbed her eyes. “What is it? What’s happening?”

  Ryder grabbed her hand and pulled her down the staircase leading to the lobby.

  “The hotel’s on fire.”

  Chapter Six

  Julia hugged her denim jacket to her chest. The daytime temperatures reached a comfortable seventy-two degrees today, but the nights dropped to the forties…and she hadn’t planned on being outside during the night.

  The red lights from the fire engines played across the hotel guests’ shocked faces. People in various stages of undress scattered along the sidewalk across the street from the hotel, which had black smoke billowing out of one side.

  The side where she and Ryder had their rooms.

  Ryder snaked an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into him for warmth. She said, “I’m glad you woke up. I was sound asleep. I didn’t even hear the fire alarm.”

  She covered her mouth. She did hear the fire alarm, but she’d incorporated it into her dream. The dream of a small house exploding and a man rushing out of that house to drag her back inside. Jeremy. She couldn’t see his face in the dream, either. Under hypnosis she’d recalled a fight. Was that fight between her and Jeremy? She shivered, but not from the cold this time.

  “Are you all right?” Ryder squeezed her closer. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

  Since Ryder couldn’t be thinking about her dream, she shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “That we’ll have to find another place to sleep tonight.” He patted the back pocket of his jeans. “At least I had time to grab my wallet and ID.”

  Clutching Ryder’s arm, she coughed at the smoky air filling her lungs. “That’s not what you meant. You think someone set this fire on purpose. The same someone who slashed your tires.”

  “The thought crossed my mind when I heard one of the firemen mention arson. The fire started in the laundry room, which was beneath our room. Dr. Brody knew we were spending the night. Maybe he followed us here.”

  “That’s crazy.” She shrugged out of the arm encircling her. “Jim might have a small crush on me, but he’s not a lunatic.”

  “Julia, psychologists are not supposed to have crushes on their patients, small or otherwise. How come the guy hasn’t been able to help you recover one memory in over three years? Think about it.”

  “Do you think he’s running over to Silverhill to leave me flowers and paw through my underwear, too?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. No more talk about Jim being a crazed stalker. I’m cold, I’m tired and I want to go home.” She clenched her jaw to stop the flow of childish complaints. Ryder had suffered as much as she.

  And she hadn’t wanted to go home as long as she’d snuggled next to him on the bed scarfing up jelly beans and laughing at silly pratfalls. She hadn’t wanted to move one inch until this latest catastrophe.

  Did her secret admirer plan to pull her and Ryder apart with this fire? She hugged herself. Secret admirers didn’t slash tires or set fires. His actions today catapulted him from secret admirer to scary stalker. How much farther would he go?

  “I’m sorry.” Ryder took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m not here to try and convict Brody, and the fire could be a coincidence. Let’s check in with the desk clerk. He’s on his cell phone finding rooms for all the guests.”

  Julia stood close to Ryder as the clerk made arrangements to book them into two rooms a mile away. She surveyed the people on the sidewalk, faces distorted by the revolving red and blue lights, gathered to watch the firemen extinguish the last of the flame
s.

  Was one of them responsible for the fire? Did the crowd conceal her stalker? She curled her fingers around Ryder’s belt loop as a scary thought flashed through her mind, giving her goose bumps.

  What if she didn’t even know her stalker?

  What if he was a stranger?

  “I GOT SOMETHING for you on Dr. James Brody.”

  Ryder gripped the cell phone, his pulse quickening. “Hold on just a minute, Wade.”

  The din of his father and older brother, Rod, arguing in the kitchen assaulted his ears, and his stepmother’s voice on the phone arguing with a member of her charitable committee made him cringe. So much for a relaxing leave in the bosom of his family.

  Ryder pushed up from the sofa and headed outside so he could hear what Wade Parker, his FBI buddy, had to say about Dr. Jim Brody.

  He leaned against the front porch railing, hitching his boot up on the ledge. “Whaddya got? Does he have a record?”

  “No, he has a censure.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “The American Board of Professional Psychologists censured Dr. Brody for exhibiting inappropriate behavior with a patient.”

  “What did he do?” Ryder clenched his jaw. If Brody turned out to be Julia’s tormenter, he’d personally make sure he couldn’t practice his “talking profession” for a long time.

  “He allowed a patient to spend the night at his house when she left her husband.”

  Ryder exhaled. Brody may be unethical, but that didn’t mean he sliced up women’s panties for kicks. “Did he advise his patient to leave her husband? No conflict of interest there.”

  “I don’t know anything else, man. Those psychologists have a lot of rules governing them, and Brody broke this particular rule. I don’t know if he went on to have a relationship with this woman or not.”

  “Okay, I appreciate it, Wade.”

  “I can tell by your voice you expected deeper, darker deeds from this guy, but that’s all he’s got on his record. Is he someone we need to watch?”

  No, Brody was someone he needed to watch. “I was just curious. He’s my…friend’s therapist and seems a little too invested in her welfare.”

  Ryder ended the call and drilled the mountain landscape with his gaze. Could it be that simple? One overly enthusiastic psychologist with a loose grasp on ethical conduct? It sure as hell didn’t feel simple to Julia, but the alternatives sucked the air out of his lungs.

  Who murdered Jeremy and did the killer know Julia witnessed it? Maybe her amnesia saved her life. Would regaining her memory endanger it?

  He glanced at his watch. He’d invited Julia and Shelby to the ranch to give Shelby a riding lesson. Ever since the incidents in Durango two days ago, he’d set himself up as Julia’s protector. She didn’t seem to mind. She used their time together to pepper him with questions about her past, and he filled her in…up to a point.

  He didn’t want to spring Shelby’s paternity on Julia just yet. She needed time. Oh hell, he needed time. Was he ready to be a father? Was Julia ready to give Shelby a father? She’d admitted to him that she felt a guilty relief at the news that she was a widow. She didn’t want to share Shelby with a stranger.

  By the time he told Julia they had a daughter together, he wouldn’t be a stranger anymore. He’d make sure of that.

  A car’s engine buzzed in the distance, and he saw the cloud of dirt rise at the end of the drive before he spotted Julia’s little silver car.

  She pulled up behind his truck with the four new tires and hopped out, waving. She opened the back door of her car, and Shelby scrambled out of her car seat. Shelby’s small legs churned, propelling her up the wooden steps of the porch.

  “Am I going to ride a pony?” She tugged at his hand while she planted one foot on his boot.

  He lifted her high and shook her back and forth. “You sure are, and I know just the pony.”

  “Silverbell.” The screen door banged behind him, and his father stepped onto the porch. Dad chucked Shelby under the chin. “Hey there, little lady. Ready for your first riding lesson?”

  “Skipper.” The screen door banged again, and Rod joined them on the porch, folding his arms across his chest. “Skipper’s a better choice for Shelby. She’s only what, four years old?”

  Ryder rolled his eyes at Julia, leaning against her car grinning. His father and Rod would argue about the color of the sky.

  “Three and a half.” Shelby snatched the hat from Ryder’s head.

  “Hell, boy.” Dad punched Rod on the shoulder. “Silverbell might be a little frisky, but Shelby can handle him. She’s named after my mother, isn’t she?”

  Rod’s blue eyes narrowed as his gaze shifted between Ryder and Shelby. “Yeah, she is.”

  Ryder turned his back on his know-it-all older brother and jogged down the steps. “Let’s get one of those ponies saddled up.”

  JULIA SANK onto the porch swing in front of the McClintocks’ ranch house. Her anxiety about Shelby’s first riding lesson had seeped away as she watched Ryder, one hand firmly on Skipper’s rein, the other on Shelby’s back, circle the paddock with the pony.

  Shelby had accompanied Ryder to the barn to watch him rub down the horse and feed him an apple, and Julia had let her go without a backward glance. Just a week ago, she’d rarely let Shelby out of her sight, except for her stays with the Stokers.

  She instinctively trusted Ryder deep in her core.

  The screen door squeaked on its hinges, and Julia jerked her head to the side. Rod McClintock, Ryder’s older brother, sauntered onto the porch and settled his shoulders against a post, a toothpick between his teeth.

  The first time she’d seen Rod, her heart jumped in her chest. And now she knew why. Ryder resembled his older brother. They had the same strong, handsome face with wide cheekbones and a square jaw. Rod was a little taller than Ryder, a little broader, and much more serious.

  His icy blue eyes drilled her, and she suppressed a shiver. He had a reputation as a hard man to please. Many women in Silverhill and beyond had tried, and many had failed.

  He shifted his toothpick to the side of his mouth. “Is Ryder still with Shelby?”

  “He took her to the barn to rub down Skipper.” She released her toe from the porch, nudging the swing into motion.

  “I never knew Ryder to be interested in kids before.”

  “He worked with Shelby’s father, and he was…is my friend.” She curled one leg beneath her thigh and continued swinging. “He told you how we knew each other, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, I heard the story.”

  Ryder wouldn’t have told his brother about Jeremy’s murder and the CD. Ryder didn’t tell his family a lot about what he did. Rod seemed to have his suspicions, but Julia wasn’t about to fill him in.

  “Well, I think Ryder feels responsible for me and Shelby, and he’s helping me recover my memories.”

  “How’s that going for you?” The lines in Rod’s face softened and his voice warmed.

  Julia let out a long breath. Guess he was done with the inquisition. “It’s going great. With Ryder’s help I’m beginning to remember things about my mom. I may even be ready to write her a letter soon and let her know she has a granddaughter.”

  “Let who know she has a granddaughter?” Ryder had come around the corner and balanced one foot on the bottom porch step.

  “My mother.”

  Rod leaned his back against the porch railing and shifted the toothpick to the other side of his mouth while his gaze meandered between Julia and Ryder. Julia’s cheeks warmed under his scrutiny. Unlike a lot of the good people of Silverhill, Rod had never paid much attention to her and her strange story but his brother’s involvement seemed to pique his interest.

  Ryder laughed. “Better go slow with that news. You don’t want to turn Celeste’s hair gray overnight with the shock.”

  “Where’s Shelby?” It showed how much she’d come to trust Ryder in such a short space of time that she didn’t jump
out of her skin with worry when he didn’t show up with her daughter.

  Ryder jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I dropped her off at the side door of the kitchen so Pam could feed her. Is that okay?”

  She nodded, and Rod snorted.

  Ryder’s brow shot up. “Commentary?”

  “Pam must’ve been in heaven getting that little girl in her kitchen.” Rod shoved off the porch railing and headed back inside the house. He twisted his head over his shoulder and murmured, “She’s been waiting a long time for a grandkid.”

  “Shelby did great today.” Ryder sprang up the remaining steps and dropped to the swing next to Julia, sending it rocking back and forth. “She’s a natural. I don’t think she has an ounce of fear in her, and Rod nailed it, as usual, Skipper was a perfect mount.”

  “Whoa.” Julia placed a hand on Ryder’s bicep and squeezed. “Slow down. You sound as excited as Shelby.”

  “She has that effect on me.” He placed his hand over hers, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb across her knuckles. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you earlier if any more memories are filtering through.”

  “Little by little I’m remembering events like snapshots. I—I remember my father.” She placed a palm on her chest as a fist squeezed her heart.

  At the end of every day, she lay on her bed and used the relaxation techniques Dr. Brody taught her. For the first time in three years, the techniques worked. Memories like wisps of gossamer thread floated through her mind. She tried to catch the happy ones and wrap them around her fingers, but she seemed to get all tangled up in the unhappy ones instead and they flooded her reeling senses with grief and loss.

  Maybe her brain shoveled out the bad memories before the good ones as a kind of protective mechanism, as in, it can only get better from here. If so, this process meant good news about Ryder because try as she might, she couldn’t focus on one memory of him although she felt his presence in the background.

  She called Jim every day to report on her progress, and he told her the memories of Ryder might be slower to come because he existed for her in the present.

  “Are you there now?”