Her Forgotten Cowboy (Cowboy Country Book 9)

by Deb Kastner

  After doing everything right, they had lost their child, while Lydia had given birth to a perfectly healthy little girl. Tanner struggled to find God’s purpose in this when everything in his life was upside down.

  And now Rebecca was pregnant again? It was so hard to remain positive when it seemed their whole lives had gone against them.

  It was strange having Rebecca back in the house again, hearing her voice, her laughter. He couldn’t help but respond mentally and emotionally to the woman he’d loved since the first moment he’d laid eyes on her.

  And yet nothing was the same.

  In the months after Rebecca had left him, Tanner had realized just how spoiled he’d become, relying on his wife to pick up the slack while he obliviously worked the ranch. There were so many areas of his life he’d never had to worry about, things Rebecca had quietly taken care of herself and never complained about.

  He’d never thanked her or expressed his appreciation for everything she did. It had never even occurred to him that his dinner wouldn’t be ready and waiting when he came in from the range every night. That his laundry wouldn’t somehow be clean and neatly hung in his closet. That the horses wouldn’t have been fed and their stalls cleaned out.

  He scoffed inwardly. He’d been an idiot. He’d never been the romantic type. It wasn’t his way to surprise Rebecca with flowers or chocolate in appreciation of all she did, not even on holidays. It was one of his many regrets.

  After she’d left him, Tanner had subsisted on microwave dinners and sandwiches. Laundry had piled up until he didn’t have a single clean undershirt in his drawer. He’d tried using the washing machine once, but as humiliating as it was to admit it now, he’d had no idea what all the knobs and buttons were for or what the labels meant and he’d ended up turning all his white undershirts and socks pink. He’d had to visit Emerson’s Hardware, which also served as the town’s clothing store, to buy more shirts and socks. He’d been afraid to run the washer again, sure he’d overflow the house with laundry suds if he’d tried.

  He knew he ought to apologize to Rebecca right this second for the way he’d blindly ignored her contributions to the family. He ought to thank her for all she’d done for him over the years. But what good would that really do when she couldn’t remember all she’d done back then?

  It had been a double blessing when Mackenzie had come into his life, because soon after, Rebecca’s mother, Peggy, had arrived at his door, suitcase in hand and a smile on her face. Without a shred of judgment in regard to Tanner’s relationship with her daughter and not one word against him, she’d moved into one of the extra bedrooms and had taken over where Rebecca had left off, not only cleaning, cooking and caring for the house, but providing Mackenzie the stability she so desperately needed. That woman was a blessing on top of a blessing.

  Tanner never would have been able to take care of the little girl on his own. There were still nights the small child cried for her mother. Peggy had known how to calm her, to sing soft lullabies and pray over her until the preschooler was lulled back to sleep. And by morning, Mackenzie was smiling and ready to greet the new day.

  If only Tanner could do the same. What he wouldn’t give to have the resiliency of a child. Every day was a new challenge stacked upon the top of all of the old ones. When things had started going poorly between him and Rebecca, even before she’d left him, he’d not often worn a smile. It wasn’t until Mackenzie entered his life that she would occasionally coax a smile out of him, even sometimes a chuckle.

  But in his heart he still grieved, even as, day by day, Peggy taught him to be more self-sufficient. He could cook a little now and he knew how to do his own laundry without turning everything pink.

  “Who’s hungry?” he called, serving up the scrambled eggs onto a platter. “I’ve got bacon.”

  “We can smell it from the living room,” Rebecca said, inhaling deeply and smiling at Mackenzie, whose little hand she held. “I don’t know about you, but my tummy is rumbling.”

  “Mine, too.” Mackenzie looked up at Rebecca and patted her tummy, then smiled from ear to ear. “Uncle Tanner makes really yummy food.”

  “He does? Uncle Tanner can cook?”

  Mackenzie looked up at Rebecca with sheer hero worship, and Tanner shared one of his rare smiles. It looked as if Rebecca had already completely won the little girl over.

  “Bacon is my favorite,” Rebecca continued, pushing Mackenzie up to the table and settling her with a napkin in her lap.

  “Mine, too,” Mackenzie immediately agreed.

  “Mine, three,” came another feminine voice from behind Tanner’s shoulder. Peggy reached around him and grabbed a slice right off the platter he was holding, grinning as she popped the whole thing into her mouth. “You’ve really become a decent cook, cowboy,” she said around a mouthful of bacon.

  He raised his brow at the quasi compliment. “Gee, thanks.”

  The adults seated themselves at the table and Peggy held out her arms so they could hold hands around the table while Tanner said grace. Feeling Rebecca’s soft hand in his, he could barely get the words out. Her other arm was still in a splint.

  She hadn’t talked much about the accident that had ultimately brought her back to Serendipity. Whether that was because she didn’t remember it or she didn’t want to share it with him, he couldn’t say. But he didn’t want to press her.

  Right now, this second, she was happy. What was going to happen if—when—she got her memory back?

  What if the darkness that had once taken over her heart returned?

  What if she remembered why she’d left him in the first place and ran for the bushes?

  Tanner choked on a forkful of eggs and swallowed hard.

  “How does this memory-loss thing work, anyway?” he asked tentatively when he could speak again.

  “How do you mean?” Rebecca gave him her full attention.

  “Well, will you wake up one morning and it’ll all come flooding back, or are you just remembering little bits at a time?”

  “Or do you even know how it will work for you?” Peggy added, softening the blow. “What did your doctor say?”

  Rebecca pulled out her cell phone, something Tanner was getting used to seeing her do. Anytime she needed to remember something she couldn’t recall, she checked her list. Anything new that she learned as she went, she added to her ever-growing list.

  “My doctor says my memory will come back in fits and starts,” she said. “Or possibly all at once, though that is less likely. The more time I spend here doing what is familiar to me, the faster I ought to get better. But I don’t know how long that will be or if I’ll ever fully recover all my memories.”

  “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” he said without thinking, then paused and cringed.

  What had he said that for? She was welcome to stay?

  This was her home as much as it was his. Of course she could stay. She was welcome to stay forever—that is, if they could get over the current crisis and deal with their past marital concerns, issues which had once broken them apart.

  “I appreciate that,” she said, seemingly not realizing the huge gaff Tanner had just made—or purposefully choosing to ignore it.

  “Is it possible you won’t ever get your memory back?” Peggy asked gently.

  Rebecca’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. “I hope not. I can’t imagine living this way forever. It’s so frustrating. Paralyzing, really. I can’t do most of the things I want to do, be the person I want to be.”

  “Like what?” Tanner asked, then berated himself for being too blunt. He’d always been that way. Words shot out of his mouth before they passed through his brain. It was part of the problem. He’d have to work on it.

  He wanted to do better.

  He did.

  “Like riding my horse. I really want to learn how to do that agai
n. Once I’ve had the baby, of course.” She giggled, lightening the mood. “What’s her name again? Or is it a he?”

  “Calypso is a mare,” he reminded her. “And there’s no reason you can’t go riding again once the baby is born. I wouldn’t be surprised if you actually remember how to ride without further coaching.”

  “I think you might be right about that. It feels instinctive, although of course I won’t know until I get in the saddle. But I’m sure to get lost if I take off on the land without knowing where I’m going.”

  “Not if I’m there with you,” Tanner offered.

  “Really? You’d take time out of your busy schedule to do that for me?”

  Tanner wondered why it was that she thought he might not be willing.

  Maybe because she knew she’d left him, even if she didn’t know why. It was a wonder she was giving him this much latitude when she couldn’t fill in all the blanks.

  “Yeah. Of course,” he assured her.

  “My memory may come back before that, anyway,” she said, rubbing the top of her belly. She smiled at Tanner. “He’s kicking again. Do you want to feel?”

  Tanner’s heart jumped into his throat and then thunked down hard into his stomach.

  “It’s a boy?” he asked, tentatively holding his hand out to her. They’d talked about the baby, but it hadn’t occurred to him that she might know the sex of the child.

  She placed his hand over a bulge on her stomach and it moved. Rebecca helped Tanner press a little harder. He chuckled when the lump bumped back at him.

  “Your son,” Rebecca acknowledged. “I found out what gender I was carrying when I was in the hospital being treated after the accident. For some reason, that’s one fact I don’t have to check in my records every morning. I just know.”

  * * *

  Tears welled in Tanner’s eyes as he pressed his palm to Rebecca’s belly. She hadn’t expected that kind of reaction from the tough cowboy. What was he thinking?

  He didn’t seem like the emotional type. She didn’t know why she thought that, but she was certain it was true. She wondered how much of that knowledge was mere observation and what, if anything, was innate, what her memory was providing her.

  “A son,” Tanner repeated tenderly, awe in his voice and expression. “And he’s a strong little mover.”

  “Oh, yes,” she agreed. “Soccer. Football. Something that requires a lot of running. Or flips. Maybe gymnastics or parkour.” She paused and caught his gaze, gauging whether or not to ask the question. “This is okay, then, that we’re having a baby?”

  “This goes way beyond okay, Rebecca.”

  He paused and her gut tightened. His statement had been given in such a serious tone it could be read either way. Had he not wanted to start a family with her? Was this going to be yet one more issue they had to work out?

  When his face split into a grin, she breathed easier.

  “I’ve been praying God would bless us with a son or daughter since the day we said I do. You used to pray, too.”

  Rebecca’s shoulders tensed so tightly that she couldn’t turn her neck.

  She used to pray? What did that even mean? Even with the amnesia, she hadn’t lost her faith in God.

  Tanner’s sentence faded away into silence, leaving in Rebecca’s chest a fiery ball of resentment and frustration. Why wouldn’t anyone tell her what had happened that was so bad that she would want to separate from a man who, as far as she could tell now, was good and decent?

  “Finish your sentence.” She hoped she didn’t sound as exasperated as she felt, but honestly, she wanted to scream.

  Rebecca’s mom reached for her hand, but it was Tanner who spoke, his voice low and scratchy.

  “We started trying for a family right after we got married. It—it didn’t work out quite like we’d imagined.”

  Rebecca rapidly blinked back tears. She understood what he was saying to her. She couldn’t get pregnant as they’d expected to be able to do. Was that what had eventually driven her away?

  “Look. You have enough of a burden facing your present circumstances without bringing up the past. Let’s focus on that,” Tanner suggested.

  “And you’ve got that lovely baby boy growing in your womb,” her mother reminded her.

  Maybe they were right. She had enough to worry about trying to face her future without bringing a past she couldn’t remember into it. Perhaps they’d had a hard time conceiving, but now they had a healthy son growing in her womb. They should focus on that.

  “How far along are you?” Tanner asked, eyeing her stomach again as if he wanted to reach out and touch it a second time. Even though she knew Tanner was the baby’s father, it still felt weird to her to have him looking at her that way.

  She sighed and checked her phone for the exact figure. “Seven months. Thirty-two weeks, to be precise. My due date is August eighteenth.”

  “Seven months?” Tanner echoed, sounding slightly alarmed.

  “Yes. Seven. We’ve got about eight weeks to go before our son makes his debut. We probably ought to start thinking about putting a nursery together.”

  Tanner stared at her openmouthed for a moment.

  “What?”

  He shook his head fervently.

  “We need to get you in to see Dr. Delia as soon as possible so she can check you out,” he said, even though Rebecca was well aware that wasn’t what his look had been about. “She’s the town doctor. I know you’ve been under a doctor’s care, but I really trust Delia. Most of the ladies in Serendipity go to Mercy Medical in San Antonio and Delia delivers the babies. She’s family practice and she’s really good at what she does.”

  “That sounds nice,” Rebecca agreed. “Are there childbirth classes in town?”

  “I’m sure there are. I’ll get us all signed up, okay? I—I mean, er, did you want your mom to be your birthing coach instead of me?”

  “Is there any reason I can’t have you both?”

  “I—no—that would be great!” At least he sounded enthusiastic about coaching, though for some reason Rebecca pictured him as the kind of big, rugged father who would faint dead away in the delivery room.

  “I wish I could remember everything we’ve gone through to get to this point,” she said.

  “Maybe it’s better that you don’t.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  He turned toward her, leaned his hip on the counter, crossed his arms and frowned. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

  “It’s important to me to remember the bad times as well as the good. That’s one thing I’ve learned through my memory loss. Life isn’t just made up of the good times, but the bad, also. You can’t know what it is to be happy unless you’ve been sad.”

  Tanner grunted in agreement. “Hold on just one second, will you? I have an idea.”

  She waited, curious, as he jogged to his bedroom—the one he and Rebecca had once shared—and returned with a wedding photo.

  “This photo used to grace the mantel in the living room, but after you left me, I moved it to my bedside table.”

  She wondered why he had tortured himself that way, seeing Rebecca’s happy face every morning when he rose for the day. That couldn’t have been good. She was surprised he hadn’t put it away in a drawer.

  “I couldn’t put it away,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “That would be like putting you away, and that I couldn’t do. For me, marriage was until death did us part, even if my spouse didn’t happen to agree with that vow.”

  “I’m sorry if I gave up on us, Tanner.”

  “I’m not sure you did. Not completely. We won’t know until your memory returns. Anyway, here,” he said, slipping the photograph into her hand. “This is us on our wedding day six years ago.”

  She stared at the picture for a moment, a smile lingering on her lips. “Now, t
his is something I’d really like to remember.”

  But would she? Even if she remembered why she’d left?

  “We look so young,” she remarked softly. “Young and madly in love.”

  More like foolish and in love. Two idealistic young people who saw only good things in the future, who believed their faith would shield them from the many bumps and bruises of life. That a family was something that would just happen when they wanted it to. That their dream of a ranch and dog and at least four children sitting around the table at a meal would all come naturally.

  Except it hadn’t.

  They didn’t even have a dog—not even a working dog to help herd the cattle.

  Rebecca gestured to the photo. “Would it be okay if I kept this picture for a while?”

  He nodded and cleared his throat.

  Rebecca slid the photo from the frame and placed it in the small purse she wore strung across her shoulders.

  “I feel obligated to tell you we were separated at the time of your accident. Our lives didn’t go anything like we imagined on our wedding day.”

  “I know.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You know?”

  She waved her cell phone in the air. “It’s in my notes, although rather vaguely. I don’t have all the specifics, and I know we’ll have a lot of work to do when and if I remember what happened. But I couldn’t just leave my marriage like that, and even though Dawn completely disagreed with me, as far as I am concerned, finding out we’d separated gave me all the more reason for me to come home.”

  Chapter Five

  In the three days since they’d had that serious, heart-wrenching conversation over the breakfast table, Tanner inadvertently fell back into all of his old patterns, his way of dealing with hard things.

  He subconsciously retreated to his ranch work, going out early and coming back late. Instead of manning up to his truths, he ran away and hid.