Karen Barrett - Hers To Remember

“Actually, my ex.” She guessed. “It’s been three years. I’m sure he went through with the divorce.”

Sam’s eyes went blank. He moved off the bed and walked over to the window. He stood for a moment staring out. “You’re sure he went through with the divorce,” Sam repeated as if by rote.

Adrienne watched him shake off whatever he’d been thinking. He turned back to her. “Why would your ex-husband want to hurt you?”

She shrugged. What use would it be to go into all that now? “He’s probably forgotten all about me by now.” At least, she hoped he had.

He held her gaze. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

The intensity in his blue eyes made her shiver. In the last few hours, she’d seen him gentle, concerned and hurt, but this fierceness surprised her.

“Amy, why would he want to hurt you?”

The husbandly sternness of his question reminded her he had a right to know. “Because he’s a cold selfish son of a—” Anger flared in Sam’s eyes, and she stopped. “What does it matter? I’ve obviously made a new life for myself. I’d rather talk about that.”

“So would I,” Sam said. “But if you’re in danger…”

“I’m not!” If Vaughn had known where she was, he wouldn’t have waited to do something about it. But he hadn’t. So that meant she didn’t have to be afraid anymore. Now all she wanted to do was forget him. Selective amnesia. I wonder how that works.

She looked at her “new” husband. “Sam, sit down, please.” She waited until he sat in the chair by the bed. “I feel funny asking this since we’ve been married for…”

“We celebrated our second year together three months ago,” Sam informed her. “Around the same time the baby was conceived.”

A blush warmed her cheeks. “Oh.” She’d never been a shy person, but the thought of making love with this virtual stranger unsettled her. Her brain certainly worked in mysterious ways. First she’d forgotten her first husband. Now she’d forgotten her second.

“Are you okay?” He leaned forward and reached for her hand.

“I’m fine,” she said, although it seemed an anemic word to use for how she felt.

Sam was so big and strong. Sitting so close, he made her feel almost delicate. Yet, he hadn’t tried to intimidate her physically like other men had. He’d made her feel safe and protected. That’s what had scared her so much when she’d believed he’d been sent by Vaughn, that he could have taken her in so easily. When she’d finally accepted that not only wasn’t he involved with Vaughn, but that he was her husband and the father of the baby she carried, she’d felt relieved and somewhat vindicated.

Now she felt curious. Not only about him, personally, but about her life with him. She moved restlessly. “Sam, for all intents and purposes, we’ve just met. I know nothing about you beyond these last few hours.”

He released her hand and sat back, as if reading her need for a little space. “I’m not sure I know where to start.”

Start with why you married me. The thought came full-blown to her mind, but she didn’t voice it. She’d asked Vaughn that once, and he’d answered with the required pretty words. But it hadn’t taken her long to realize pretty words meant nothing. Or that she wouldn’t have wanted a man like Vaughn to love her, even if they had.

Sam seemed like a good, honest man. But she wanted to know him a lot better before she asked him a question whose answer she’d have to analyze. So, she decided to start with something simple.

“I know your name is Sam Delaney. How old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty-five April third. That’s about three months from now.”

It seemed impossible so much time had passed. Like some modern Rip van Winkle, she’d gone to sleep and woken up over three years later. But old Rip hadn’t gotten married and pregnant during his nap! Thinking about the time that had passed, another thought occurred. “I missed my thirtieth birthday,” she said. There were probably women who’d rejoice at such a fact, but she only felt strange to have missed such an important milestone.

“When is your birthday?” Sam asked. “We’ve been using October seventeenth, the day of the accident.”

“December thirty-first.”

“Well, we didn’t know it was your birthday, but we did celebrate.”

She laughed. “Us and the rest of the world. It is New Year’s Eve.”

His blue eyes sparkled. “I bet when you were a kid you thought the celebration was all for you.”

“You win.”

But that hadn’t lasted long, she thought. People had been quick to tell her the celebration had nothing to do with her. Just like Vaughn had been quick to tell her their success had nothing to do with her. It was his work, his brains that made their advertising company a huge success. The campaigns she’d designed, he’d told her, would never have gotten off the ground if it hadn’t been for him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sam interrupted her dismal thoughts.

Adrienne rubbed her eyes. Suddenly, she felt very tired and emotional. “What could be wrong? I’ve forgotten three years of my life. I’m pregnant with a child I don’t remember conceiving with a man I don’t remember marrying.”

Seeing the stricken look on his face, she regretted snapping at him. “Look, I’m sorry. My head is aching again. Would you mind if we postponed this question-and-answer session for a while?”

For a moment she thought he was going to refuse. There was a stubborn look on his face that told her he wanted to. Instead, he got up and moved the chair he’d been sitting on back next to the wall.

Grateful for his compliance, she felt a need to reassure him. “I just need a little rest, Sam. It’s been a big day.”

Sam managed a smile. “That’s putting it mildly. Get some sleep. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“You don’t have to stay.”

He looked a little hurt. “Yes, I do.”

Adrienne was glad. She liked the security she felt knowing he would be near. Even though she knew Vaughn lived a couple thousand miles away, in blessed ignorance, she couldn’t quite shake the fear that he’d come running should he ever learn of her circumstances. Then, she suspected, there would be no more safety. No matter how big and strong Sam was.

SAM LEFT THE ROOM reluctantly. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what. He walked down the hall toward the waiting room, though he already hated the sight of those rose walls and cranberry couches.

He understood that Amy had been through a lot. She probably just needed some time to assimilate what she’d learned so far. He certainly did.

But he also suspected there was something she hadn’t told him. Something about her ex-husband. Why else would she be worried about whether he had a hold on her and the baby?

Once in the waiting room, Sam found it difficult to keep still. He sat. He stood. He paced, then sat again. Had he made a mistake letting her distance him like this? What else could he have done?

He picked up a magazine and leafed through the pages, but never saw one. His mind never left the woman lying in the hospital room down the hall. He couldn’t force her to talk to him. He knew that. So he stayed where he was, knowing also that if he pushed, she’d run. She’d already done it once.

Twice, if what he suspected about her arrival in California had any validity.

So, he’d wait. Because next time he might not find her so easily. Frustrated by his own logic, he threw the magazine across the room.

Casey strode in as the magazine settled itself on the floor next to the couch. “Hey, big brother, what are you doing here?”

“Amy needed some rest.”

“Told her you were her husband and she kicked you out, huh?”