A Time to Remember

“She sounds fine.” She edged toward the side of the bed, pushing back the pain that pinched her body. “Whatever you decide is fine.”

She could see he didn’t like her saying that. His eyes narrowed, his brows lowered. He looked frustrated.

“I’m sorry, Gray. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that you should decide these things. After all, they have the most effect on you.” She’d been trying to rectify whatever she’d said wrong, but was clearly only making matters worse. His jutting jaw was proof of that. She bit her lip, decided to stay silent.

“This affects you, too, Marissa. We can do whatever you want, but for now, I agree with Luc. You need rest and lots of it. A puff of air could whisk you away without even trying.”

“I’m fine.”

She glanced down, noticed his eyes staring at her knobby knees poking out from the hem of her hospital gown and readjusted the thin cotton robe.

“Why didn’t you put on your own robe and gown? I brought them days ago, but you still wear the hospital’s. Did I bring the wrong things?” Gray stared down at the threadbare gown as if he couldn’t understand her preference for such an ugly thing.

Well, why would he? He’d brought her an azure-blue velvet housecoat that begged to be worn, and a delicate white cotton nightie, with ribbon ties that matched the housecoat. They were beautiful and she’d have loved to snuggle into them. But they weren’t hers. At least, they didn’t feel like hers.

“I seem to have a lot of scrapes and cuts,” she improvised. “I didn’t want to stain anything, so I thought I’d save them until I was a bit more healed.” She glanced behind him. “Where’s Cody?”

“He’s at school. I thought it was time to get him used to the routine. I’ve been taking him for an hour every morning. Today he’s staying the full time.”

“Oh.” Which meant they’d be going to the ranch alone.

“You don’t think it was a good idea?” He fiddled with his hat. “Maybe it is too much at once, but the doctors thought we should get his life as normal as possible, and…”

Now she had him second-guessing himself, something she doubted he’d ever done. Till now. On an impulse, Marissa laid a hand on his arm.

“Please, whatever you’ve decided is fine. I know you only want what’s best for him.”

“And you.” He put his hand over hers where it rested against his muscled forearm. “I just want to make things better, Rissa. Inside, I know I can’t. I know nothing will be the same again, but I have to do something. Otherwise I’ll blow up.” His fingers tightened, the lines around his eyes deepened. “Every time I think of someone holding you against your will, of hitting you—”

She heard the torment in his voice, saw him strive for control. Then his arms were around her and he was holding her so tightly, she could barely breathe.

“Rissa, if you only knew how scared I’ve been.”

The words seemed dragged from him. It was the first time he’d really held her, though she’d expected it before now. There was no doubt in her mind that he cared about Cody but her, too? This much? Somehow that surprised her.

Something inside urged her to hold him, to brush that lock of recalcitrant hair off his forehead and kiss him there. But something else—some warning bell—reminded her that wanting to comfort him wouldn’t be what he wanted from her. He was her husband, he’d expect—no! She pulled away.

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m all right. So is Cody. He’ll talk to us when he’s ready.” She leaned back, putting a bigger distance between them. “I guess I’d better get dressed.”

“I didn’t know you’d be released today. I didn’t bring you any clothes.” He frowned at her, trying, she knew, to understand what made her so apprehensive she couldn’t respond to him.

“I’ll wear what I arrived in.” She was pleased she’d thought of it so easily, until she saw him shake his head. “Why not?”

“The police have your things. Evidence. They’ve sent them away for analysis. Maybe they can find some clue about where you were held.” His gaze moved down her body, focused on her feet. “Seems funny you weren’t wearing shoes. Your feet weren’t cut or blistered, as they should have been if you were running barefoot.”

“Just another little mystery for you to unravel,” she joked, drawing her toes under the hem of her gown.

He was discomfited for a moment, then his gaze landed on the rejected housecoat. “I could go and buy something.”

“No, there’s no need.” She didn’t want to be indebted to him further. Neither did she want to put off going to the ranch. It terrified her, but she had to do it or explain why not. It was better to arrive in the daytime, and it was already after lunch. If they waited any longer, it would be time to pick up Cody, and when she finally arrived home, Marissa didn’t want the child watching her with those studious silver eyes that saw everything.

Home. How strange to think of it like that.

“I guess this is the only option, then.” He held out the housecoat and gown.

“I guess you’re right.” She clambered awkwardly off the bed, took the items from him and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He nodded, but that curious lambent glow was back.

It wasn’t the first time Marissa had been out of bed, nor the first time she’d seen a reflection of herself. But she still didn’t feel she knew the stranger who stared back at her, so she tried to avoid looking that way.

Earlier her bandages had been removed. The nurse had helped Marissa wash her hair and now it hung loose and fluffy around her shoulders. Her scalp was tender, so she’d left the golden strands free.

The nightie had a soft fuzzy feel on the inside. Some kind of cotton sateen, she decided, sliding her hand over her midriff. The housecoat felt every bit as wonderful as it looked. Out of the shabby hospital gear, sheathed in this elegant finery, Marissa felt pretty. Graceful. Like someone else. Had she worn these things before?

“Rissa?”

A soft knock on the door alerted her to her husband’s presence outside.

“Yes?” She froze, then told herself he had every right to walk inside if he wanted.

“Are you all right?”

She drew in a breath for courage, then pulled open the door.

“I’m fine. I was just trying to decide what to do about my feet.”

“Good thing I happened along, then.”

They both turned at the laughing voice. A man stood in the doorway. A tall man, sandy haired, with dancing brown eyes, looking for all the world as if he’d just stepped out of an ad for healthy outdoor living. He waited in the doorway, a gaily wrapped package in his hands. He wore jeans and a plaid shirt, but they were nothing like Gray’s. There was no sign he’d ever done a day’s work in either article. His snakeskin boots shone with a luster that proclaimed them new.

“Hi, sis.”

Sis? This was her brother? Marissa scrutinized each feature, but found nothing familiar. Gradually she became aware of the tension sizzling across the room between the men. She glanced at Gray for an explanation.

“Marissa, this is my brother. Adam.” The words were devoid of any emotion.

“Oh, come now, Grayson. Let’s tell all the truth, shall we?” The debonair smile turned on her full force. “Everyone thinks I’m his half brother. The ne’er-do-well son who got gypped out of the ranch my father built with his bare hands.” Malice glittered in Adam’s eyes.

“I didn’t gyp anyone.” Gray grated the words out in a way that told her they’d gone over the same argument a hundred times before. “Harris left me the ranch, true. But you were well provided for, Adam. You could have bought your own place. If you’d wanted to.” An implicit warning lay behind those quiet words.

“The point is, dear Marissa, that Grayson McGonigle, or whatever his real name is, shouldn’t have received any portion of my father’s inheritance because he is not my father’s son. He’s a liar and a cheat.”

His real name? Marissa winced at the pure hate that seemed to thread through the angry accusations. She saw Gray’s hands fist, saw his jaw clench and knew it was up to her to stop this from escalating, damaged memory notwithstanding.

“Look, I don’t pretend to understand what you’re talking about, Adam. I don’t understand anything about my life. My head hurts, my body is stiff and sore and I feel like I’m in the middle of a tug-of-war. So if you don’t mind, you two can carry on your feud, or whatever it is, later. Preferably when neither Cody nor I are present.”

“Aw, Marissa, I’m sorry.” Adam’s mobile face drooped with shame. “I truly didn’t mean to dredge that up again. I came to say I’m so sorry about the accident. How are you?”