Owen's Touch

by Lee Magner

  “Yeah. But I didn’t go tumbling down the mountainside in my car.”

  “Is that what happened? It’s all so confused. I can barely make sense of it. It’s like an incoherent nightmare.”

  “Yeah. Your mind probably just needs some time to recuperate from the accident.”

  “Time...”

  “They say that time heals,” he said gently.

  “I hope they’re right.” She sighed.

  “Say, I’m surprised you don’t have a room full of doctors and nurses,” he said, trying to get her to focus on something less depressing.

  “Why?”

  “You’re talking! For days they’ve been telling me to call them right away if you said anything. So when your big moment came, they must have filled the room with applause. What happened to everybody afterward, anyway? Did they go out for a champagne breakfast to celebrate?”

  “Uh...” Her face fell and she stared at him in dismay, although he couldn’t see that so clearly, with all the bandages over her eyes.

  “Wait a minute. You did speak to them? Didn’t you?”

  “Um, no. Just to you, Owen.”

  “Just to me?” He stared at her in amazement. “You waited for me?” That’s what it had sounded like she had meant. But it seemed too ludicrous to believe, so he asked her to verify it.

  Which she did.

  “Yes. You were like a lifeline to me. And it was easier trying to focus on you when I was trying to find the words and get them out.” She hesitated. “Um, I tried to talk yesterday, but no one seemed to understand a word. I thought I was losing my mind. People just ignored the sounds.”

  “No one could understand them,” he said, trying to sound calm and reassuring. Reassuring wasn’t hard. Calm was a stretch.

  “Yes. Well, it was very frightening. I mean, when you’re screaming as loud as you can and no one can make out a word that you’re saying...”

  “Believe me, that’s not a problem any longer.”

  She grinned.

  “That’s progress, then,” she said, the smile warming her voice and lifting her spirits.

  “Yeah. So keep that in mind about this name thing, okay? You got your voice back. You’ll get your memory, too.”

  “That’s why I tried talking again when you got here just now,” she said softly.

  “Why?”

  “Because I thought you were my best chance.”

  Owen grunted.

  “Do you always do that?” she asked curiously.

  “Do what?”

  “Back away when someone tells you that you saved them from oblivion?”

  “I don’t know. I never saved anyone from oblivion before,” he said dryly.

  “Really? I would have bet you’ve had lots of experience.”

  Owen frowned. Now, why would she have guessed that? He wasn’t stupid enough to ask her. He didn’t want her to speculate on an answer.

  “Well, when you remember your name, I’ll see if I can remember some of my life experiences,” he teased. He leaned over and buzzed the nursing station. “Now, let’s see if we can get the rest of these highly trained, overworked and marginally paid medical professionals in here to admire your newly exercised vocal cords.”

  He moved away from her, relaxing his grip on her hand, but her fingers clung to his until he was almost beyond her reach.

  “Thanks,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with emotion. “I don’t think I would have made it without you. Not on the mountain. Not here.”

  He tightened his fingers one last time. Then he let her go. This time she didn’t cling to him.

  “Say...” she blurted out, having just thought of it. “I don’t know you, do I? I mean...did we ever meet before this happened?”

  “No. We never met before. You don’t know me from Adam.”

  “That’s what I thought.” She forced a rather unconvincing smile. “At least some of my senses are still working.”

  Owen laughed.

  And then the nurse appeared in the door.

  “Well, well! Look who’s awake and talking! We have a lot of people waiting to speak with you...?” The nurse hesitated, waiting for the patient to take the cue and provide her with a name.

  The woman on the bed stared blindly through her bandages in the direction of the nurse’s voice.

  She desperately tried to bold on to her composure, but the nurse’s question brought back the brutal reality. She didn’t know who she was or what she was doing at the time of the accident. She fiercely wanted to be able to handle all this herself, but she was wounded in a way that made that very difficult.

  “I feel like an alien who was just dropped onto the wrong planet without a guidebook,” she said, forcing an unconvincing laugh. “You see, I...” She swallowed hard, fighting against the fear welling up inside her. “I...”

  Her voice wavered with emotion. She turned her head in Owen’s direction, holding on to the thought of his encouragement, of the solid strength of his hand holding hers for so many hours.

  “It seems we have a little problem, nurse,” Owen said. “Our mystery patient has forgotten a few things.”

  “Such as...?” the nurse asked, eyebrows arching.

  “Her name, for one. And just about everything else, apparently.”

  “I see,” the nurse exclaimed softly. A look of pity filled her eyes. “Well, let’s call in the doctors and see if any of them can help with that, shall we?”

  Jane Doe smiled gamely.

  “Let’s hope they can,” she murmured. “And thanks, Owen,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t know why it was so hard to say it out loud in words. Gee, I keep saying thanks. You’d better come up with a way for me to repay you for all this help you’re giving me.”

  Owen grinned slowly. She was down, but she wasn’t out.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  She laughed weakly. “Just don’t ask for anything risqué, all right?” she said.

  Owen laughed softly. “It’s a little late to be throwing in conditions,” he commented.

  “It’s never too late for that,” she replied.

  She was smiling in his direction as the doctors arrived.

  “I’ve got to go,” he said. He wasn’t a member of her family, after all. This wasn’t really any of his business, he reminded himself. “I’ll call you tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

  Was it bewilderment he saw settling over her face? She covered it with a reasonably convincing smile before he could be sure.

  “Watch out for the traffic,” she said. “Especially the trucks.”

  He laughed. He liked her spunk.

  “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  He sensed her bandaged, unseeing gaze on him as he turned and left the room. It stayed with him on the long drive home that evening, like the pleasant aftertaste of a good wine.

  Who the hell was she? he wondered. And why couldn’t he just forget about this, anyway?

  He fell asleep still not having found the answer.

  As he had promised, he called her late the following day.

  “I thought you forgot,” she said, rushing through the words nervously.

  “I don’t have that many things to remember,” he teased. “I didn’t want to interrupt the hospital routine.”

  “You’re a highlight of that,” she said with happy candor.

  “I’m more fun than needles and examinations and people coming in day and night to check on every personal need you have? Am I supposed to take that as a compliment?”

  “Yes, you are,” she said, laughing softly.

  He felt a shiver scamper down his back. Her laughter was light and sparkling, like a gurgling summer river on a clear, bright day. He swallowed and shook off the feelings she had unexpectedly touched in him.

  “Owen? Are you still there?” she asked, sounding puzzled.

  “Yes. I’m still here. It was a...surprise hearing you laugh. Guess it just startled me.”

  “Oh.” S
he paused, as if waiting for him to give her a little more insight into his thoughts. When he didn’t, she continued. “Well, they’ve examined about all there is to examine on me, and they think I’m doing pretty well, I guess.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “And the lady ophthalmologist, Dr. Evergreen...”

  “What about her?”

  “Well, she’s going to remove the last bandages from my eyes this evening. They’re off for good, if the corneas are healed.”

  “Now, that’s great.” he said, his voice rich with warmth.

  “Yes.” She hesitated. “They think my eyes will be okay.”

  “But...?”

  “But they aren’t so sure about the memory thing.”

  “Isn’t it a little soon to make any predictions about that?”

  “It didn’t stop you,” she argued.

  “True. But I can’t be sued for saying something optimistic that doesn’t pan out.”

  “Oh. That’s...true.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. I do think you’ll catch hold of your memories. I just meant that doctors are very cautious about what they say to patients now. They’re afraid their words will be used against them by a disappointed patient’s lawyer. So, they promise little. They avoid giving firm dates for recovery or promising full recovery at all. It’s safer to give a gloomy forecast, qualifying it with all the things that can go wrong that they can think of. Then when you get better, you think they’re geniuses, having saved you from all those possible bad endings.”

  She giggled.

  “You sound a little negative yourself,” she noted.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he conceded, grinning slowly. “Well, they don’t have crystal balls, they can only give you an opinion.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured. “I just wish...” She fell silent, keeping her fears to herself. Her silence was more eloquent than anything she could have said.

  “You wish you knew who you were,” he supplied softly.

  “Yes. It’s awful not knowing where I belong...what I’m doing with my life...who my friends are...my job—” Her words caught in her throat. “I don’t know if I’m married, divorced, widowed or single. So I can’t even fill out the hospital admission forms,” she said with a shaky laugh. “What if I have kids? What if they don’t know where I am?”

  “Do you think you have kids?” he asked, frowning. Somehow, it had never occurred to him that she might. He wondered why it hadn’t.

  “Well, actually, no. I’d remember that, wouldn’t I? I mean doesn’t mother instinct, her love for her child, override anything else?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “Well, I don’t feel like I have children somewhere waiting for me...but it would sure help if I knew that was true.”

  She fell silent, and her pain was palpable across the miles to him. He didn’t have to see her to know she was struggling with the agony of not knowing what her responsibilities in life were.

  “I just wish I knew what to call you,” he muttered in frustration.

  “They call me Jane or Janie D. or Ms. Doe....”

  “I will not call you Jane Doe!”

  “Okay, okay!” She smiled at his vehemence and brushed away a tear that had trickled down beneath the bandage lightly covering her eyes. “I’m not all that fond of the name myself,” she conceded.

  Owen heard the wobble in her voice and wished he were sitting by her bedside where he could hold her hand while he was talking to her. Funny how he’d gotten used to the feel of her slender-fingers in his. Of course, it was his own fault that he wasn’t there. He’d come back to check on his mail and to give her and the people at the hospital a chance to work together on her problem. He’d thought his most important job was done. And he thought that he might retard her improvement if he stayed with her too much now. Leaning on him might slow her down.

  But maybe he’d been wrong.

  Maybe he’d left too soon. Maybe she still needed a psychological crutch to lean on just a little while longer.

  “Owen?” she asked hesitantly. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah. I’m here. Just thinking.”

  “Well, think out loud, huh?” She cleared her throat and said, a little awkwardly, “Are you thinking that calling me was a mistake?”

  “No. What made you think of that?”

  “Well, I know you have your own life to get back to, and spending all this time holding my hand here at the hospital probably didn’t help you any. I mean, you probably need to catch up on your work....”

  “I’m taking a...leave of absence. I haven’t missed anything.”

  “Well, then there’s your family....”

  “Not an issue.”

  “But your wife must be wondering when you’ll be getting home for dinner on a regular basis.”

  “Are you asking me if I’m married?” He’d heard the curiosity in her voice.

  “Well...yes. No one around here seemed to know for sure,” she admitted a little defensively.

  “I’m not married.”

  “Well, your girlfriend...?”

  “I don’t have one anymore.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “No need to be. Anything else you’d like to know about me?” he asked, beginning to smile. He could almost see the blush running up her cheekbones. The sharp intake of her breath had given her away.

  “No.”

  Then he realized he couldn’t ask her those same questions, not even to tease her. She wouldn’t be able to remember the answers. His heart twisted a little in pain.

  “Hell, what can I call you?” he said with a sigh. Then he remembered. “The doctor said your eyes are green.”

  “Well, that’s nice to know,” she said wryly. “Every shred of fact about myself is something to build on.”

  “So I’ll call you Green Eyes.”

  “Oh.” Her voice floated off into a sigh of surprise. “Green Eyes. Well, that sounds more interesting than Jane D—”

  “Don’t say it!” he growled.

  She laughed again, and the spring sun shone lightly upon him as if the sound had illuminated the barren room he was standing in.

  “Will you be busy tomorrow?” he asked abruptly.

  “No busier than usual, I guess,” she replied. “They seem to want to keep me in the hospital for a few more days. I’m still getting over the surgery they did when I was admitted... something about fixing some internal bleeding and some injury to my spleen.”

  “So if I dropped in to hold your hand again for a while, you’ll be receiving visitors?” he drawled.

  She laughed again, and this time she sounded more relaxed.

  “I’ll receive you anytime, Owen.”

  “I’ll stop by during late-morning visiting hours tomorrow, then. All right?”

  “Are you sure this isn’t going to...?”

  “Inconvenience me? No. You want me to come, right?”

  There was a long pause as she wrestled with her own pride, which had suddenly reasserted itself with a vengeance. Pride lost.

  “Yes. I would love to see you again. You’re the closest thing I have to a friend right now,” she admitted.

  “Then I’ll be there,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Owen, I hope I can repay your kindness someday.”

  “In a way, you’re doing that now,” he said reluctantly. “So don’t worry about it. Besides, what man wouldn’t jump at the chance to hold a good-looking woman’s hand?” he teased.

  “I look like a mummy!” she exclaimed in mild disgust. “And it is a big inconvenience. The nurse says it takes hours to drive from where you live to the hospital. You had to stay in a motel, they said. That costs you money....”

  “I like to drive. And my furniture still hasn’t arrived here, so it was more comfortable sleeping in the motel anyway. Look, don’t worry about it”

  He said it as dismissively as possible. He really didn�
��t want to explain about the other woman he’d known who’d disappeared from his life. It had a depressing ending. This lady needed stories of hope, not despair. And he had the distinct feeling that she would be digging in that direction next, asking him why helping her was repaying him for anything at all.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said firmly.

  “Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye, Owen.”

  She smiled as she said it. She really would see him when he came. For the first time since the accident. And maybe this time, she’d make him out clearly, see a well-defined face to go with his swashbuckling name and his soothing, masculine voice and his reassuring touch.

  Averson Hemphill called Owen later that evening. He did not have good news. Owen, who’d been fixing a leak in the plumbing, put down the wrench in his hand and exhaled slowly in surprise. For a moment, he felt speechless, astonished by the information that the lawyer had just shared with him.

  “No one knew that Portia had any blood relatives who could contest the will,” Hemphill went on to say, trying to explain.

  “So why should you believe that this person is her nephew?”

  “Because he’s presented legal proof of it. A birth certificate properly authenticated, indicating that he is the lawful child of Portia Willowbrook’s late brother. And he’s hired a lawyer to contest your ownership of Portia’s estate. He says his father grew up on that land, and he has a rightful family interest in it.”

  “But Portia never mentioned him. I don’t think she knew he existed,” Owen argued, frowning.

  “I tend to agree with you there. She certainly never mentioned him to me, and I specifically asked her about blood relatives when we were writing her will. It’s a good idea to mention people who might claim they were overlooked. That way you can prove you gave them exactly what you intended for them,” said the lawyer, sounding resigned to the newly complicated situation that had presented itself to them.

  Owen was bitterly tempted to laugh, but the potential seriousness of this new legal problem made that impossible.

  “So I should be prepared to go to court over this. Is that what you’re saying?”