Her Forgotten Cowboy (Cowboy Country Book 9)

by Deb Kastner

  “Rebecca,” he pleaded. “Hold up a minute.”

  He grabbed hold of her elbow and turned her around, only then realizing that in addition to her leg, her wrist was in a splint. Something bad had definitely happened. Was that what she’d called him about that day? That she’d been hurt and needed his help?

  And where had he been? Out on the range, nursing his own internal wounds.

  Shame mixed with anger and warred deep within his chest.

  But then again, he reminded himself, pressing his emotions back, none of this would have happened had she not left him in the first place.

  “What’s the deal?” he demanded, his raspy voice coming in short, unsteady breaths, half because of the dash he’d made to catch up with her and half because of nerves. It had never occurred to him that she might return today of all days.

  Her eyes went wide with surprise, shock and concern. She glanced down at his hold on her elbow and took a physical step backward.

  “Rebecca?” Frustration pulsed through him as she jerked out of his reach and tucked her good hand underneath the one in the splint. Why was she acting as if he were about to accost her?

  “I—I’m sorry, I—” Rebecca stammered. She sounded lost. Confused. Maybe even a little frightened.

  Of him?

  Their marriage had not ended well, but he had never, ever given her a reason to fear him. He’d barely even raised his voice when they had arguments, which were few and far between, anyway.

  Sure, they sniped at each other when they were tired, just like every other married couple in the world, but they hadn’t fought much. That wasn’t their way. Instead, resentment burned under the surface of their relationship but never emerged, so they’d drifted apart. Their rainbows-and-unicorns promise to each other that they would never let the sun go down on their anger just sort of slipped away into the twilight.

  Yet despite everything that had happened, and even with what felt like an uncrossable rift between them, he had still loved her with his whole heart—

  Until she’d betrayed him.

  She had left him, not the other way around. She was the one who needed to make the first move. To reach out. To apologize.

  Their eyes met and locked and he narrowed his gaze on her. There was something peculiar in the way she was looking at him, all glassy-eyed, her pupils dilated. It was almost as if she were looking through him rather than at him, as if she didn’t recognize him.

  “I am R-Rebecca.” She sounded as if she wasn’t entirely certain that was true. As if she didn’t know her own name. Her dark red eyebrows lowered, shading her gaze. “But who are you?”

  “What?” he asked, his voice rising in tone and pitch. He was thoroughly flummoxed by her question. She may as well just have physically pushed him. Her words had the same effect.

  She took yet another step back and raised a protective hand, laying it across her burgeoning midsection.

  For the first time since she’d turned around to face him, Tanner’s gaze dropped to her stomach. His breath left his lungs as if he’d been sucker punched.

  For a moment, his sight clouded, darkness tunneling his vision as the reality of his world tilted on its axis.

  Rebecca was pregnant.

  * * *

  She knew her first name was Rebecca.

  Rebecca Foster was the name she’d been born with and the one she remembered—even if her driver’s license said something else.

  She opened her hand and read the words written in black ink on her palm.

  Check notes—cell phone.

  Filled with both curiosity and anxiety, she glanced at her phone.

  Hamilton.

  Her name was Rebecca Hamilton.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and repeated the name in her mind.

  Hamilton. Hamilton.

  Rebecca Hamilton.

  There was something vaguely familiar about the sound of the name, and the butterflies currently flittering about in her tummy had nothing to do with her growing baby, but that was as far as it went.

  She couldn’t claim that name as hers. Nothing in her Swiss-cheese memory gave her that assurance.

  According to the notes her best childhood friend, Dawn, had written to help her navigate her way in Serendipity, Rebecca was separated from her husband, Tanner.

  Tanner.

  Tanner Hamilton.

  Her husband.

  According to her notes, separated but not divorced.

  She didn’t believe in divorce—and she strongly felt that moral principle, the same way she still believed in God. Why she knew this when she couldn’t put names to the faces of those she supposedly knew best confused her even more.

  It made no sense to her that she could know some things absolutely and know absolutely nothing about others.

  If she didn’t believe in divorce, then why had she left this man—Tanner Hamilton?

  She let that name roll around in her head for a moment, but again—nothing. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, her memories would just not come. And trying harder, straining her already overloaded brain to retrieve them, only gave her a migraine.

  Rebecca was sure Dawn had explained to her at some point why she was no longer in a relationship with Tanner, but she hadn’t put an explanation in the notes on the phone and Rebecca couldn’t recall a reason. Nor could she remember why Dawn had refused to come with her back to her hometown. She only knew that where Serendipity and Tanner were concerned, she was here on her own.

  Everything had been so vague since the accident, but she knew Dawn had been a good friend to her, so she couldn’t dismiss the nagging notion that her best friend did not like her husband, which she remembered from this morning when they’d had a heated discussion over why Rebecca should not return to Serendipity.

  Dawn had reminded her that it was she who had stayed by her side the whole time, both in the hospital and afterward, caring for her and doing her best to supply the information Rebecca’s mind refused to provide. At this point, what else could she do but trust that Dawn was telling her the truth?

  That, and the fact that she remembered who Dawn was from high school. It was only the recent years that were a complete blank to her.

  But while her memories were MIA, her emotions were present and accounted for, almost more than she could handle. Part of her wished she’d never come back, and part of her wanted to run away again even now. She’d never felt more anxious and awkward in her entire life—or at least the part of her life she remembered.

  After the hit and run, Rebecca had been in the hospital for two weeks, suffering from a blow to the head, two cracked ribs, a bruised wrist and a broken ankle. Her ankle had required reconstructive surgery which had included metal plates and pins. Dawn had been riding in the passenger seat in the car with her but, thank the good Lord, had only suffered from minor cuts and bruises.

  The doctor had told Rebecca it would be a while before she completely recuperated physically. Even a month after the incident, Rebecca still felt achy and sore and had a hard time sleeping. Muscles ached where she didn’t even know she had muscles.

  Ha. Amnesia joke. Her lips twitched despite her anxiety.

  The biggest, most problematic injury had been her memory, which was now spotty at best and sometimes left her at a complete blank. She remembered how to read but the next day she wouldn’t be able to summarize what it was she’d read. She knew how to drive a car and had a handle on the rules of the road, but if she didn’t have her notes with her and the GPS from her cell phone she’d forget where she was going. And she didn’t even want to think about attempting to cook anything, even though she had a gut feeling she used to be someone who’d enjoyed spending time preparing meals. But now, if she wasn’t careful, she was liable to burn the whole house down when she forgot she’d put something in the oven to roast.

&n
bsp; But the most frustrating thing of all was she had no memory of the past few years. Relationships. People. Nada.

  At least her faith in God hadn’t left her, or she didn’t know how she would be able to deal with everything she was now facing. She’d been six months’ pregnant when the truck came out of nowhere and T-boned her sedan, and it was only an act of God that her baby was still safely cocooned in her womb.

  No. Not her baby—

  Their baby. The man standing in front of her was the baby’s father.

  It frightened her to look into Tanner’s eyes and draw a complete blank. She had no memory of the man to whom she had once committed her heart and life. The man to whom she’d made sacred vows, and then, to her mortification and shame, had apparently found reason to break them.

  That’s why she’d returned to Serendipity. To find this man, to connect with her past, in the hope that seeing her husband again would trigger her thoughts and memories to return.

  She stared silently into the cowboy’s sad yet angry blue eyes, willing her memory to supply the information needed to appropriately place this tall, muscular man into the framework of her life.

  He was definitely flummoxed by her question.

  “Who am I?” He repeated her question incredulously. “Rebecca, what are you talking about?”

  “I feel like I should recognize you,” she admitted, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks. “No. I know I should. But I—I’m sorry. My mind isn’t cooperating. I’d hoped—well, if anything would give my memory the jolt it needed to return, this would have been it. And yet I don’t know who you are, other than your name. Tanner Hamilton?”

  His expression clouded with confusion.

  “Of course, I’m—” He paused. “Wait. Are you trying to say you really don’t know your own husband?” He removed his hat by the crown and threaded his fingers through his thick blond hair.

  He needed a haircut, Rebecca thought, but then realized what an odd observation that was for her to make. It was somehow...personal.

  “Rebecca!” An older woman with her white hair pulled up high in a casual bun brushed past Tanner and tightly embraced Rebecca, tears flowing unheeded down her cheeks. A little blonde girl Rebecca guessed to be about three, who had been tightly grasping the woman’s hand, now skittered behind Tanner, clutching his leg and peeking out from behind his knee, clearly startled by the woman’s outburst.

  “Honey, you’re home.” The older woman kissed Rebecca’s cheek and cupped her face in her hands. “Oh, Rebecca. I was so worried. What happened to you?”

  Rebecca’s emotions resonated without prompting to this woman’s embrace. It was a childlike, natural response to the woman whom she knew without a doubt.

  When Rebecca closed her eyes, she pictured a much younger version of this woman, without the lines of stress that now creased her forehead and eyes. In the picture in Rebecca’s head, her mother had the same bright auburn hair as Rebecca now possessed. She was making dinner in an old country kitchen, laughing and dancing with a handsome black-haired, blue-eyed man.

  “Mama,” she whispered, and her heart concurred.

  “You’re pregnant,” her mother exclaimed, immediately pressing a hand to Rebecca’s belly. “Oh, darling. The Lord blessed you and Tanner. I knew He wouldn’t let you two down.”

  Tears pricked Rebecca’s eyes and she nodded. She didn’t miss the glance her mother flashed Tanner—one filled with something akin to fear.

  But why would that be? Did her mother not consider this happy news because Rebecca and Tanner were at odds with one another?

  A moment later, her mother’s gaze turned back to her and filled with such joy that Rebecca decided maybe she’d mistaken or misread what she thought she’d seen a moment before. Her mother looked radiant as she whispered to Rebecca’s womb, and Rebecca couldn’t help the soft smile that escaped her as she laid her hand over her mother’s and felt the baby kick.

  Tanner didn’t appear to share the same enthusiasm. His brow lowered and his jaw ticked with strain.

  “The baby is moving well?” he asked.

  Rebecca wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but apparently her mother did.

  “Baby is kicking up a storm,” her mother assured Tanner.

  “I see.” He ran a hand across his whiskered jaw. “So when were you planning to tell me you were pregnant with our child?” His voice was husky and still held an edge to it which Rebecca couldn’t decipher. “Or were you just going to leave me in the dark?”

  He was clearly unhappy with the news of the pregnancy. Did he not want a baby, other than the child clinging to his leg who was yet another stranger to Rebecca?

  Was that why she’d left him? Because she’d wanted a family and he didn’t? But somehow, that didn’t seem right, either.

  It was just so weird. Tanner was her recently estranged spouse and the father of her baby. And yet his face was that of a stranger. She felt no intimacy there.

  It was too much for Rebecca to take in all at once and her emotions were going haywire.

  And what about the little girl peeking out from behind his leg?

  Who was she?

  Their daughter?

  There was no spark of recognition in Rebecca’s heart regarding this little girl. She wasn’t experiencing any kind of gut instinct suggesting she’d ever even seen the sweet preschooler before today, although that was a definite possibility, since the child appeared to be very comfortable not only with Tanner, but with Rebecca’s mother, as well.

  But the child wasn’t hers. Surely she would remember that.

  She might not remember who she was. She might have left Serendipity—and Tanner—for reasons she couldn’t now fathom, but she would never abandon her own child.

  She didn’t need total recall to tell her that.

  She crouched down to the girl’s level and smiled.

  “My name is Rebecca,” she said softly. If only she knew more, if there were more for her to say. She wished the little girl didn’t immediately draw away from her as if she were a stranger. For some reason, that hurt her heart.

  “This is Mackenzie,” Tanner said warily. “She’s my sister Lydia’s child. Your niece. You were with me at her christening, but I guess she’s grown up a lot since then, so you probably wouldn’t recognize her.”

  Rebecca stood and slanted Tanner a look. Was he mocking her, or giving her a way out of an uncomfortable situation? It was the not knowing that made her heart feel as if it were being squeezed by a fist.

  “I think we’d better find someplace quiet to talk,” her mother suggested. She threaded her arm through Rebecca’s, as if to reassure herself Rebecca was real and that she wouldn’t be running away again.

  That physical link reassured Rebecca, as well. She was not as all alone in the world as she currently felt.

  Tanner gestured toward the community green, where many of the townsfolk had already spread out picnic blankets and were happily lunching together. It was becoming more crowded by the moment as the auction started to wind down.

  “We aren’t going to get any privacy here,” he said. “This isn’t the kind of conversation I want my neighbors to overhear.”

  “You’re right. Besides, none of us has a picnic basket, anyway,” Peggy pointed out. “I hadn’t planned to bid on anyone today. Shall we go back to the ranch where we can talk in private?”

  “The ranch?” Rebecca echoed.

  We live on a ranch? Like with cows?

  Dawn had told Rebecca she was a schoolteacher. Middle school math, although she was trained to teach anything from middle school through college. She remembered numbers and equations, and that had sounded good and right to her. It was instinctual. Numbers were solid. They didn’t change.

  But a ranch?

  Talk about feeling way, way out of her comfort zone. She couldn’t believe she
would actually choose to marry a cowboy.

  “Rebecca, did you drive here?” her mother asked, concern flashing across her gaze. And it was no wonder. An amnesiac driving a car was a frightening thought, indeed.

  Rebecca shook her head. “I used a car service.”

  “Super. Then you can ride back to the ranch with me. I’m living out there with Tanner now to help take care of the little one,” she said by way of explanation. “And soon now it will be two little ones. How exciting.”

  Tanner’s gaze met Rebecca’s for a moment, and she doubted exciting would be a word either one of them would use right now. But her mother didn’t appear to notice and continued speaking.

  “Tanner, you take Mackenzie with you in your truck and we’ll meet you back at the ranch.”

  Back at the ranch.

  A place she didn’t remember, but which she had evidently once called home.

  Chapter Two

  How could God do this to them?

  Tanner gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He was trying to control his breathing so he didn’t scare Mackenzie, but it wasn’t easy to do. The air was coming in gasps and burning his lungs.

  How could God let this happen to one family? It was almost more than he could bear.

  He felt as if he were on some kind of nightmarish merry-go-round and he didn’t know how to get off. He’d been half expecting to be served with legal documents soon, since his communication with Rebecca had been completely cut off—which he now regretted and for which he privately admitted at least partial responsibility. If he hadn’t hung up when she’d reached out to him...

  Instead of acting like a rational, mature adult, he’d let his anger, ego and pride get the best of him.

  And now this.

  Now he knew why she hadn’t returned his phone calls and texts. She’d been in the hospital recovering from a horrible car crash.

  She—and their baby. He still wasn’t certain what to do with the knowledge that they were expecting a child.

  At the moment, all he could do was feel perplexed.

  And amazed.