Kara Lennox - The Forgetful Fiancée

"Deputy Rayburn? That woman at the hospital – she's awake and asking for you."

Kevin Rayburn's heart quickened. "Me?" he spoke into the radio. "How does she even know me?"

"Dunno. But I figured you'd want to know."

"I'll be right there."

Kevin turned onto the highway and accelerated toward Colby County Hospital. This was the first violent crime he'd had to deal with since moving to Hardyville, Colorado, less than a year ago, and it made his gut twist. He'd thought he'd left beatings and muggings behind in Chicago. Yet early this morning, he'd learned that a young woman had been found unconscious in a fast-food parking lot at the edge of town, her purse missing. One of the other deputies had taken the call, but since it was the biggest news in Hardyville all year, everyone was talking about it. The story had been especially intriguing because the unidentified woman had been clutching an infant, a baby boy who was unharmed in the attack.

When he arrived at the hospital, Kevin was directed to the second floor where the mystery woman was being cared for. He hoped she had a clear memory of what had happened. Whoever the jerk was who'd hit her on the head, Kevin intended to catch him and make it clear that violence wasn't tolerated in Hardyville. His hometown, just sixty miles from Colorado Springs, was a throwback, a former gold-rush town that had never gotten caught up in the hustle and bustle of ski resorts. It didn't even have a Starbucks, and Kevin liked it that way.

As Kevin approached the door to the woman's room, a feminine voice, sounding distressed, came from inside. "I don't understand this at all. Why am I so bloated? And what happened to my hair?"

That voice. It sounded just like…but it couldn't be. Tara Satterfield would never set foot outside Chicago, unless it was to visit New York. She wouldn't be caught dead in "the sticks," as she referred to any place with a population of under a million. And she most definitely wouldn't be traveling with a baby. He'd never met a woman less…maternal.

His heart ached, as it always did when he thought of Tara. Ruthlessly he pushed aside the memories that threatened to invade his peace of mind. Those were for later, when he was alone in his bed.

"Maybe Deputy Rayburn can shed some light on things," another female voice said soothingly.

Kevin knocked on the partially open door. "Someone call?"

He stepped into the room – and received the shock of his life. It was Tara. Even with a black eye and a fat lip, and with her blond hair cut short, the woman lying in the hospital bed was unmistakably his ex-girlfriend. He hadn't seen her in almost a year, since he'd so abruptly left Chicago.

"Oh, Kevin, thank God! What took you so long? Please, tell me what's going on."

The nurse, who'd been changing a bandage on Tara's arm, looked at Kevin. "You know her?"

"Yes, she's my – she's Tara Satterfield."

Looking lost and scared, Tara reached for him, and reflexively he bent over the bed and hugged her. The feel of her, the smell of her hair, brought those painful memories screaming back into his head. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" The endearment slipped out without effort.

"I think so. But how did I get here? Were we visiting your aunt?"

Kevin reluctantly released her. "You don't remember?"

"The last thing I remember is us going out to dinner with the Brinkmans. How long ago was that?"

Good Lord. Kevin barely remembered that dinner, but it was at least a year ago.

"Kevin?" Tara looked up at him with improbably green eyes. "Will you tell me what's going on? And what's with the khaki uniform?"

Before he could answer, his Aunt Debra waltzed into the hospital room, a scrunched-up blanket in her arms. Debra had raised Kevin after his parents died, and he loved her fiercely. She was also a volunteer at the hospital and the town busybody. "Well, well, I heard through the grapevine you were awake and kicking," Debra said to Tara, her curly red hair bobbing as she walked. "I'm sure you're anxious to see this young man." She plopped the blanket onto Tara's lap. That was when Kevin realized it wasn't just a blanket.

Tara looked at the sleeping baby as if it were an alien invader, making no move to touch it. "Excuse me? You must have the wrong room."

The nurse and Debra exchanged worried looks. "Dearheart," the nurse said, "this is definitely your baby. At least, he was with you when you were found."

Tara looked to Kevin for help. "Tell them, Kevin. Tell them there's been a mistake."

Kevin was as shocked as Tara. He'd known the mystery woman had been found with a baby, but he'd forgotten about that once he'd realized the woman was Tara. The child appeared to be about three months old, which left Kevin with an inescapable conclusion: He was a father. Tara had borne him a child, though she hadn't seen fit to tell him about it.

Tara felt like she was in the middle of some weird dream. She could make out every eyelash of the strange child the social worker had put in her lap; she could smell the antibiotic ointment the nurse had just applied to the scrape on her arm. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't remember how she had gotten to this hospital room in Hardyville, Colorado, a bazillion miles from her home in Chicago – and not a place she would go unless a team of mules were dragging her.

They told her she'd been mugged. Someone had hit her over the head in a parking lot and stolen her purse, and probably her car, too.

The baby stirred and started to fret. Instinctively Tara's arms went around him, and she realized with a bolt of clarity that yes, indeed, this was her child. Though she couldn't remember, this felt right. A recent pregnancy would explain why her body felt softer, not the reed-thin figure she remembered, and why she'd changed her hairstyle to something short and no-fuss.

The woman who'd brought the baby looked anxiously at Tara. "Are you saying this isn't your baby? Because if it's not, I'd like to know -"

"He's mine," Tara said with certainty, silently acknowledging the fact that she'd misplaced a good chunk of her memory. Maybe she didn't consciously remember this baby, but her instincts told her he belonged with her.

The woman looked relieved. "I'll take him back whenever you're ready. I'm a volunteer here at the hospital, and I've been caring for him while you're -" Abruptly she looked over at Kevin. "Kevin, what are you doing here? You found the creep who hurt this lovely young woman, I hope."

"This isn't just any lovely young woman," Kevin said, his voice curiously thick. "This is Tara."

The woman's faded blue eyes bulged in surprise. " Your Tara?"

Kevin nodded.

Suddenly the woman was all smiles as she looked at Tara anew. "Oh my gosh, Tara! I'd hug you to pieces, but I don't want to hurt you, what with your injuries and all. I'm Kevin's Aunt Debra. It is just such a pleasure to finally, finally meet you."

"Likewise," Tara said uncertainly. So this was the woman who'd raised Kevin. "Could…could someone please tell me what day it is?"

"Why, Tuesday," Debra replied.

"No, I mean, the date."

"April first," Kevin said.

"And the year?"

Debra and the nurse both jerked in surprise at the question, but Kevin didn't. "It's 2002," he said, confirming her suspicions. She had lost an entire year of her life. And what a year it must have been, she thought, looking down at the baby.

"I'll just go find your doctor," the nurse said as she briskly left the room.

Aunt Debra gently smoothed Tara's hair. "Whatever's wrong, I'm sure living in Hardyville will set you straight. You probably just need to rest. "

"I'm not going to live here," Tara objected, a little more strongly than she'd meant. She softened her voice and looked at Kevin. "Am I?"