Cindy Kirk - In Love with John Doe

“I don’t know,” Lexi said honestly. “The psychiatrist would be the one to answer that question.”

“If I did have a wife, wouldn’t she be looking for me?”

“Unless she’s an ex.” Lexi’s spirits lifted at the thought.

A look of desperation filled his eyes. “I want to remember.”

“I know you do.” Lexi placed a hand on his arm. “But you got tossed around pretty badly in that avalanche. Cut yourself a little slack. Your memory will come back. Just give it time.”

Slowly the panic in his eyes receded. “You’re right.” He gave a halfhearted chuckle. “I wonder if I was this impatient in my other life.”

Lexi grinned. “Probably.”

He studied her for a long moment. “You’re a nice person, Lexi. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

When she rose, he scrambled to his feet. “If there’s anything I can do for you, just say the word.”

“Flowers,” she said.

“What?”

“The word is flowers.”

Jack cocked his head. Then a slow smile stole over his face. “I’d love to buy you flowers. What kind do you like?”

“Not for me,” she said. “On Monday I have an appointment with the florist in town to pick out flowers for Mimi and Hank’s wedding.”

“Let me guess,” he said. “You need a male perspective.”

“Why, Mr. Snow.” Lexi batted her lashes and spoke in her best Southern drawl imitation. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were psychic.”

“You may be right, Ms. Brennan.” Jack tapped an index finger against his temple. “Because I already know there’s not going to be any roses.”

After a night of restful sleep, Jack opened his eyes and was greeted by a blue sky and sunlight streaming in through the window. He stretched then plopped back against the pillows, reluctant to leave the warm cocoon. While the room wasn’t cheap, it was worth every penny.

The king-size four-poster bed boasted both a down mattress pad and comforter and six super-soft pillows. A large window offered a panoramic view of the snowcapped mountains. Last night he’d left the shades open and the falling flakes had lulled him to sleep.

He’d desperately needed the rest. Yesterday had been a long, tiring day. After he and Lexi had finished picking out wedding invitations, she’d taken him on a tour of the lodge. He’d seen the fitness center, the wine cellar and a kitchen that was clearly state-of-the-art. But when Lexi had invited him to join her and Addie for a movie in Coraline’s suite after dinner, he hadn’t even been tempted.

His head had started to ache again and it had become increasingly difficult to keep his eyes open. He’d gone back to his room, found the bottle of pills he’d been given on discharge and popped one. Once he showered, he’d crawled under the covers. Watching the snow outside his window was the last thing he remembered.

Though there was no reason he couldn’t sleep for several more hours, Jack flung back the thick comforter and swung his legs to the side of the bed. The cool air turned his skin to goose flesh, rendering him instantly wide-awake. He pushed to his feet and inhaled deeply. This was a new day. A new beginning.

“My name is—” He paused to let the name come out of hiding. But the only one that came to mind was Jack Snow, the name he’d impulsively chosen yesterday.

An expletive burst from his lips. How could a man forget an entire life? A total existence? His own name? People had head injuries every day but they didn’t end up forgetting who they were, for God’s sake.

Anger and frustration surged. Jack crossed the room in several long strides. It felt so good he did it again. And again. He paced until his sense of control returned. Until he could accept the fact that there was no use getting upset or whining about something he couldn’t change. He was just going to have to suck it up and hope either he remembered his past or someone identified him before his money ran out.

At least, there was one upside. Hanging out with Lexi in such beautiful surroundings was an unexpected boon of his memory loss. Not that he could pursue a relationship. Even if he could say for certain that he wasn’t romantically entangled in his past life, Lexi didn’t appear to be a woman who engaged in casual flings. Once his memory returned, he’d be headed back to his old life.

And that needed to happen quickly. An unexpected sense of urgency gripped his chest. Beads of sweat dotted his brow. There was something he needed to do, something pressing. He gripped the rising tension with both hands and pulled it back down. Then he took a deep breath and slowly released it. There was always something pressing, he reminded himself. That’s why he’d needed this vacation.

Vacation?

Jack paused. Now where the heck had that come from?

Several soft melodic dings sounded over the intercom system and interrupted his thoughts. If he’d been sleeping he doubted he’d have heard the tones. It took a moment for him to remember that they signified a meal was being served.

He’d skipped dinner, and from the delicious aromas filling the air, Jack had the feeling this breakfast would be as much of a treat as the lunch he’d enjoyed yesterday. Grabbing a shirt and jeans from the drawer, he quickly dressed. He was almost to the door when the sound of bells filled his head. But these were different than the soft dings. An image of a large stone structure with a huge expanse of lawn appeared in his mind’s eye. The bells continued to ring and the sound became a melody.

The stone building came into sharp focus. So clear he could see the veins in the ivy covering the white stone. But try as he might, he couldn’t make out the words on the sign out front.

The soft dings sounded again and the melodic bells, along with the stone building, vanished. Jack tried to pull the image back but it was gone. Still, he felt encouraged.

Lexi had been right. Getting out of the hospital had been just what he needed to jump-start his memory.

Jack closed his fingers around the doorknob. He couldn’t wait to see Lexi’s expression when he told her the good news.

It had to be the storm, Lexi decided. Saturday mornings were always busy, but this one was crazy.

She dipped another thick slice of brioche into the egg, heavy cream, sugar and ground spices mixture before dropping it onto the large cast-iron griddle. Normally two-thirds of the guests stayed for breakfast on the weekend. But today it appeared everyone had decided to fortify themselves with a hearty helping of her brioche French toast—with fresh berry compote—before venturing out into the wintery weather.

Despite being up and busy before dawn, Lexi had found time while whisking the eggs with heavy cream to think about Jack. She wondered how he’d slept, if the headache that had plagued him last night was gone. But most of all she wondered if he’d had as much fun as she had picking out wedding invitations.

“More French toast, please,” Coraline called out as she pushed open the door between the dining room and the kitchen. “Everyone brought their appetite this morning.”

“I’ve got a batch ready to go.” Lexi put on a mitt and opened the door of the commercial-grade oven. She slid out the baking sheet, removed the foil covering and transferred the warm French toast to the platter in Coraline’s hand.

“They look fabulous, Lexi,” the older woman said. “And the way everyone is raving, they obviously taste as good as they look. Keep ‘em coming, my dear. I’ll definitely be back for more.”

Even at 9 a.m. on a busy Saturday morning the look on Coraline’s face and the lilt in her voice told Lexi and the world that here was a woman who loved her job.