THE HUSBAND SHE COULDN'T REMEMBER

by Maggie Shayne

  "No. I took up martial arts after you … went away. I thought it might help me find some kind of … peace."

  That made her throat tighten up. "And did you?" she asked him.

  "Not until you came back to me, Penny."

  She lowered her head, feeling guilty because there was so much feeling for her in his eyes. "I figured my coming back had only made things harder for you."

  "Nothing could be harder for me than being without you."

  Why did she feel on the verge of tears? She moved closer to him on the seat of the pickup. And Ben slipped his arm around her as he put the vehicle into gear.

  "Penny … it's hard for me to remember that all of this is brand-new to you. If I … if you feel like I'm pushing … if I overstep … just tell me, okay?"

  He was so gentle, so careful with her. "I will," she whispered, and then she let her head rest lightly upon his shoulder, and she heard his sigh of contentment.

  He stopped once, on the way home. Home. God, was she really beginning to think of the Texas Brand that way? As her home?

  He ran into a small shop while she waited in the truck, and when he came out, he was carrying a tiny brown bag. He got in and handed it to her.

  Frowning, Penny reached inside. She pulled out a bag of dog treats, a brand-new leash and lastly a white rubber bone with a red ribbon around it. She squeezed the thing, and it squeaked loudly. She thought her heart was overflowing as she smiled up at him. "Ben, you didn't have to…"

  "Sure, I did. Ollie's part of the family now, too. Besides, if she has a bone to chew, maybe she'll leave the clocks alone."

  It wasn't that he was worried about the clocks. She knew that. It was because he cared so much about her, and he knew how much she loved the dog. Was he trying to win her affection, then, by buying things for Olive?

  If he was, she realized, he needn't have bothered. He'd already won it.

  Penny had gone up to her room to lie down right after dinner, and while Ben missed her company already, Old Blue seemed relieved to be rid of Penny's bulldog sidekick. The stubby dog had been running circles around the old hound all evening, trying to get him to play. Blue's most ambitious response had been to crook his eyebrows on occasion, yawn and settle more comfortably onto the braided oval rug. But he had an indulgent, mildly amused look in his big hound-dog eyes as he watched the bulldog's shenanigans. Unlike the look in Penny's eyes when Ben had begun referring to her precious pal as Stubby. But that was okay. Her velvety brown eyes lit up again when he gave her the rubber bone he'd bought for the dog. You'd have thought he'd given her a diamond ring the way she smiled.

  Man, she did love that short, fat, smushed-nosed mutt. But Ben was rapidly discovering it was hard not to love a dog with as much personality as Olive had.

  He was sitting now in front of the dead fireplace, wondering what the hell to do next, how to sleep, knowing she was down the hall. How to keep himself from going to her room tonight, even if it was just to look at her as she slept.

  Then he heard voices on the porch.

  A female one he didn't recognize at first, said, "Why won't you tell me what this is all about?"

  Adam's deeper voice replied, "You'll find out soon enough."

  The screen door banged, and the two stepped inside. Adam, and the woman who'd jilted him and broken his heart five years back. Kirsten Armstrong. She was just as pretty as ever, with masses of light brown hair like doe hide, spilling over her shoulders. But she'd changed. She wore clothes that might as well have had their expensive price tags still dangling instead of the jeans she used to live in. Her shoes had deadly looking heels, and their color matched the little purse she carried. She wore makeup and big long fingernails painted the same shade of red as her lips. It was like the old Kirsten had been the rough draft, and now she was polished to perfection. But Ben thought he'd liked the rough version better. She'd been more real back then.

  Adam was trying hard to look angry, but Ben could see the pain in his eyes.

  "Dammit, Adam, why the hell has your brother been calling the estate all day, and why did you drag me all the way out here?"

  Adam rolled his eyes. "The estate, is it? Haven't we just moved up in the world? But I hear marrying money will do that for a girl."

  "Don't go there, Adam." She glared at him, but Ben thought he glimpsed a hint of pain in her eyes, as well.

  "So has your old geezer got one foot in the grave yet, honey? He didn't make you sign a prenup, did he? Be a crying shame if all you've been giving him went to waste, wouldn't it?"

  "Shut up!" she spun toward the door, but Adam gripped her arm, and for a moment they stood there staring at each other, sparks practically leaping between them.

  Ben cleared his throat, and they both looked toward him. "Let go of her, Adam. This isn't about you two. You can save it, okay?"

  Adam drew a breath and released her. "Wait here." He stalked past Ben and headed up the stairs, and Ben knew he was going to get Penny. Penny, who still didn't know about the condition that was supposed to have killed her by now. His heart beat a little faster.

  Kirsten sighed heavily, but came farther into the room, slapping her handbag down on the coffee table and staring up the stairs after Adam disappeared. She turned toward Ben, and her frown eased a bit.

  "Hello, Kirsten," he said. "Been a long time."

  She nodded but didn't meet his eyes. "I'd have stopped by. I just thought it would be … awkward."

  "You thought right."

  "Your brother would just as soon shoot me as look at me."

  "Can you blame him?"

  She looked away. "I can't change the past. Why can't he just let it go?"

  "Like you have?" Ben asked.

  She sighed, still not looking him in the eye. "I've done a lot of things I regret, Ben."

  "And not showing up for your wedding is one of them?"

  She looked up quickly. "I didn't say that." She paced to the bottom of the stairway, looked upward, then turned and paced back again. "Do you know what this is all about, Ben?"

  "Yes." He said nothing more. She was nervous; that much was obvious. But he supposed having her former fiancé haul her to his home without explanation was partly to blame for that.

  "Are you going to tell me?"

  "You wouldn't believe me. I think you'd best just wait a second and see for yourself. But first I have to warn you to watch what you say, Kirsten."

  Her eyes narrowed, and she blew an impatient sigh. "This is ridiculous. I'm leaving."

  "Wait. Just give me a minute, Kirsten—"

  "Tell Adam, when he wants to act like an adult—if that day ever comes—he can call me." She snatched up her bag and stalked toward the door. "Until then—"

  "Just a minute, Kirsten," Adam called, and then his footsteps came slowly down the stairs. "You might walk out on your husband-to-be, but you wouldn't do it to your best friend, now, would you?"

  Adam and Penny descended the stairs and stood side by side at the bottom. Adam looked smug and Penny confused.

  Kirsten kept her back to him, reached for the door, and Penny said, "Adam, what's going on? Who is she?"

  Kirsten froze where she was. The bag fell to the floor, but she didn't seem to notice. Very slowly she turned, and when her eyes fell on Penny standing there, she went chalk white. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. And when she stumbled, Ben lunged from the chair. Adam beat him to Kirsten's side, though it was unnecessary. She didn't faint. She caught hold of the back of a chair and stood there blinking at Penny as if she were seeing a ghost. Hell, she probably thought she was.

  "P-Penny?"

  Ben dragged his gaze from Kirsten's stricken face, and saw Penny nod. And then Kirsten moved slowly across the room, shaking her head in disbelief. Ben braced himself, praying his brother had had the sense to tell Kirsten not to mention Penny's illness to her … but he couldn't have. It was obvious Kirsten hadn't been the least bit prepared for this. When she reached Penny, she touched her hands as if she couldn
't believe she was real. And then she wrapped her arms around Ben's wife much the way he had when he'd first seen her. And she cried, clutching Penny close, rocking her in her arms, all her polish suddenly as transparent as glass.

  "How? Penny, how is this possible? They said you'd slipped into a coma, that you wouldn't survive another month… I don't…" Then she stepped back, bit her lip, lowered her head.

  Ben stood there, digesting what he'd just heard. But it was Adam who spoke. "You knew, didn't you, Kirsten? You knew Penny didn't die in that car accident. Didn't you?"

  Kirsten's shoulders were shaking now, but she didn't answer.

  "Speak up, dammit!"

  "That's enough, Adam." Ben put a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder, silencing him. "Kirsten, you have some heavy-duty explaining to do." He lowered his eyes, the pain of a friend's betrayal stinging like acid. First things first, however. "Penny, this is Kirsten Armstrong. She was your best friend from the time you both started kindergarten together. We thought she might know—"

  "What are you saying?" Kirsten interrupted. "Why are you telling her who I am when she…" She searched Penny's face. "You know me, Penny. You know me … don't you?"

  Penny lowered her head. "I'm sorry. I don't."

  "Kirsten, she came out of the coma," Ben said softly, "but her memory went with it. She doesn't remember anything before waking up in that clinic in Europe. Apparently you're the only one who can tell us how she ended up there."

  "Oh, my God," Kirsten muttered. She pressed her palms to Penny's cheeks. "But look at you. You look … you look … healthy."

  "Kirsten," Ben said, a warning tone in his voice. He wanted an explanation—not the revelation Kirsten seemed about to drop on Penny.

  "Everyone keeps saying that," Penny told her, and she shot Ben a questioning glance. "Was I that sick before … before the accident?"

  Kirsten frowned at Ben. "She doesn't know?"

  "Kirsten," he said again.

  "Doesn't know what?" Penny turned to Ben, wide brown eyes searching his face. "Ben, what is it you haven't told me?"

  "Nothing that won't keep. Penny … I—"

  "I don't want it to keep. I want to know now."

  "Oh, God," Kirsten muttered. "I'm sorry…" She glanced at Adam. "You should have told me."

  Adam shook his head, looking as if he'd finally realized how badly he'd screwed up. "I wasn't thinking." He glanced apologetically toward Ben.

  "You rarely do where Kirsten is concerned." And as a result, they'd gotten way off the subject.

  "Will someone please tell me what's going on here?" Penny demanded.

  Ben lowered his head. Damn, but he didn't want to do this to her. He didn't want to see the life ebb out of her again the way he'd watched it do before.

  Kirsten reached out a hand to gently touch Penny's face, and she smiled through a flood of tears. "What happened, happened because of love, Penny. Mine for you, yours for Ben." She sniffled. "I wished for you so many times. God, Penny, if only you knew … but you don't even remember me, do you?"

  Penny shook her head, then reached up to take Kirsten's hand in hers, moving it slowly away from her cheek. "It's obvious we were … close," she said.

  "Closer than sisters. Oh, Penny, I've missed you so much."

  "Then help me. If you know what's been kept from me, please, Kirsten, please tell me. I need to know."

  Lowering her head, Kirsten sighed deeply, brokenly. She backed away from Penny and sank into a chair, and Ben could see clear through her polish now. She was shaken. Trapped. Scared. Suddenly she was the same awkward, insecure girl she'd been when they were all kids.

  "God, just how sick was I?" Penny asked.

  "I'll tell you," Ben said softly. "Penny … God help me, I wanted to wait. I wanted you to see Doc first, because … you just look so damned healthy and I can't help but wish—"

  "Ben, it's impossible. You know that. Don't do it to yourself." Adam came to stand beside his brother, one hand on his shoulder.

  Ben met Adam's eyes. "Leave us alone, will you?"

  Adam nodded, turning to Kirsten. "This doesn't let you off the hook. I still want answers, Kirsten."

  "You aren't getting any." She held Penny's confused, frightened eyes, never even glancing at Adam. "When you're ready, Penny, I'll tell you all of it. But only you. No one else."

  "Then you do know what really happened," Adam accused her.

  She looked at him, then lowered her head and moved away, grabbing up her bag and fishing something from it. A small card, which she laid on the table. "My number," she told Penny. "Call me when you want to talk."

  Penny nodded mutely, and then Kirsten turned to walk out the door. Adam cussed under his breath, then followed, muttering that he had to drive her back to the estate. He said the words as if they left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Ben's heart felt as if it had turned sour when Penny looked up at him, all her questions in her eyes.

  "Kirsten knew I didn't die in that accident," she said softly.

  Ben nodded. "It looks that way. I can't believe she kept it from us. She was like family, back then." He closed his eyes. "I could choke her for this."

  "Maybe she had good reason," Penny said, "but she was still surprised to see me alive."

  Ben drew a deep breath, and it felt as if there were a sharp blade piercing his chest. "Yeah."

  "Why?"

  He moved closer to her, reached up to run one hand through her silken curls. "You were real sick, Penny. For a long time. We knew about your condition before we were married."

  She stepped back a little so she could search his face. "What kind of … condition?"

  He gripped her shoulders in gentle hands. "It's called Hillman-Waite Syndrome. It's a degenerative disease."

  "Degenerative." She repeated the word, and he could see her mind working through it before she met his eyes again. "But treatable?"

  Ben felt his throat tighten. "No. The symptoms worsen slowly, leaving you more and more helpless, until at the end you just slip into a coma and never wake up."

  She paled, right before his eyes, and he could feel the shudder that worked through her. "Are you saying … Ben, are you telling me I was dying?" She pulled free of him, pushing her hands through her hair, shaking her head. "Then … if there's no treatment—no cure for this thing … my God. My God."

  He reached for her, wanting to pull her into his arms and hold her, make it better for her somehow, even though he knew nothing could. But she was stiff, standing where she was, refusing to come closer. "I survived the coma … I made my way back here … only to find out…" She closed her eyes, pressing a hand to her forehead. "No. This isn't true, this can't be true."

  "I wish it was me instead of you Penny. I'd do anything to take this away."

  She stared up at him, horror in her eyes. And then she just sank to the floor, shaking violently as tears flooded her face. She lowered her head into her hands, shoulders bowing forward, sobs racking her.

  Ben was beside her in a heartbeat, scooping her up into his arms and cradling her there. And she didn't fight him this time. She curled against him like a frightened child. Her face pressed to the crook of his neck, her tears wetting his skin. "Dammit, Penny, I'm sorry." He carried her across the living room, up the stairs and into her bedroom. But he didn't put her down. Instead he sat on the bed, still holding her, and he lowered his head to kiss her hair.

  She sniffled, and tipped her head up, red-rimmed eyes searching his. And then she lifted her hand, and she touched his cheek. "You're crying," she whispered. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. "You really did love me, didn't you?" she asked him, blinking away tears that were quickly replaced by fresh ones.

  "I still do."

  "I want to remember." Sobs made her draw gasping, unsteady breaths that broke her words into fragments. But she parted her lips slightly, and leaned up to press them to his.

  Trembling as much as she was, Ben kissed her. Deeply but tenderly. And her ta
ste was so familiar that his heart swelled. He felt it would burst with the bittersweet emotions—overwhelming joy at having her in his arms again, and crippling grief so intense he could barely breathe.

  And when he lifted his mouth away from hers to stare into her eyes, she whispered, "Hold me, Ben. Make it like it was."

  He hadn't thought he could hurt any more. He'd never been more wrong.

  * * *

  Chapter 8

  « ^ »

  It was heaven and hell at once when Penny wrapped her arms around him, held him as if she would never let go, kissed him in a way he hadn't been kissed since the day he'd lost her. The way he'd dreamed of so often these past two lonely years.

  But he couldn't deny her. He knew the crippling pain she was feeling right now, because he felt it, too. And like Penny, he wanted to remember. He wanted to make love to her and make the rest of this nightmare disappear. He wanted to hold her again, like before.

  He turned to lay her down, gently on the bed, and with his eyes he asked if she was sure, and without a word she told him she was. She reached up with trembling hands to unbutton his shirt. And when she pushed it open, her palms slid across his chest, and he closed his eyes in agonizing pleasure.

  The shirt slid from his shoulders, and he bent over her to reciprocate. He peeled her blouse away, and tossed it to the floor, and freed her of the bra she wore, throwing that aside, as well. And then he looked at her, lying there in nothing more than a pair of Chelsea's jeans. And her breasts were as small and round and perfect as he remembered. He closed his hands over their warmth, and Penny closed her wet eyes.

  His mouth watered for her. He lay down on the bed beside her, and kissed her mouth again, and then he slid lower to kiss her body. Her breasts were warm and salty against his lips, and their peaks stiffened on his tongue. She arched her back as he suckled her, and her fingers tangled in his hair as she held him close to her.

  He flattened one palm to her belly, and slid his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. She reached between them to caress the swollen hardness beneath his. Ben stopped breathing. "I want you," he whispered. "I've dreamed of this…"