Anne Ha - Her Forgotten Husband

It wasn’t fair of her to do this, of course. But the doctor had said Samantha’s memory might not return for weeks or months—plenty of time for a whole new set of memories to be formed.

And they would. Garrick and Samantha were married now, and Jenny intended them to stay that way. The baby and their wedding were the only good things to come out of the past few months, which had been so difficult for everyone. It was time for some healing, for some much-deserved happiness.

Satisfied with her efforts, Jenny headed downstairs to greet her best friend.

Samantha sat in Garrick’s car, frozen, staring up at the huge house. Her stomach felt knotted and tense. “I live here?”

“We both do,” Garrick said. “Along with Jenny and Beth—that’s our mother—and Hugh.” He got out of the car and opened her door.

“Who’s Hugh? Your father?”

Shaking his head, Garrick helped her up the walkway to the front steps. “Dad died several years ago. Hugh is the, er, housekeeper—for lack of a better word. He hates to be called the butler.”

“I see…. So we all live here together? Like on Dynasty or something?”

Garrick smiled. “We don’t get in each other’s way much. It’s a good-size house.”

Which was exactly what bothered her. “I noticed,” she murmured, grimacing.

“Here’s Hugh at the door.”

Samantha looked up to see the strangest housekeeper imaginable. At least seven feet tall and two hundred and fifty pounds, the man at the top of the steps wore a T-shirt, black jeans and square-toed motorcycle boots. His salt-and-pepper hair was tied back with a leather thong, and he looked as if he ate small children for breakfast.

Her hands strayed protectively to her abdomen.

Hugh’s eyes caught the movement. “Morning sickness? Should I make a pot of tea?” His gruff, Hell’s Angels voice was all concerned solicitude.

Samantha glanced at Garrick.

He chuckled, as if amused by her trepidation. “He won’t bite, Sam.”

She felt embarrassed. “Thank you, Hugh, but I’m fine. I haven’t had any morning sickness at all.” Even last night’s headache had subsided.

“Sorry, Hugh.” Garrick turned to Samantha. “He wants to try a ginger tea recipe he found in one of our baby books, but you haven’t been ill yet—much to his disappointment.”

The big, mean-looking housekeeper clucked his tongue as he ushered them inside. “Don’t you believe him, Samantha. I’m much happier to have you in perfect health. Welcome home, by the way.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling. “Pregnancy does seem to agree with me. I guess it runs in the family, because my mother didn’t get sick when she had me, either—” She stopped, surprised.

Hugh’s craggy features softened. “Your memory’s already returning, I see.”

Garrick looked oddly uncomfortable, but said in a calm enough voice, “How much do you remember?”

“I’m not sure. I think I saw her face for a moment. Her skin was soft and…and she used to wear combs in her hair….” Samantha closed her eyes, grasping at the images, but they’d scattered like dust motes blown from a windowsill. “That’s all. Except—she’s passed away, hasn’t she?”

Gently Garrick nodded. “Both of your parents.”

Samantha felt a strange sadness knowing she’d never see them again, knowing they’d never meet their grandchild—strange because, though she felt the emotions, she still couldn’t remember them.

Hugh gave her a look of sympathy.

At that moment footsteps sounded from above, and they all turned their heads toward the sweeping staircase.

“Samantha? Is that you?” A tall, attractive brunette descended the steps, her blue eyes sparkling. “You’re home!”

Samantha blinked. Something about the moment seemed familiar, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. It certainly wasn’t the sight of the young woman’s face, which she recognized no more than Garrick’s or Hugh’s. “Are you Jenny?” she asked.

“Of course I’m Jenny!” The woman rushed across the entrance hall, her leather flats clacking on the polished white marble. She enveloped Samantha in a warm hug. “But you probably can’t remember, can you? Amnesia—how exciting! Oh, Samantha, I’m so glad you’re all right. We were terribly worried, you know. And Garrick’s practically lived at the hospital since your accident….”

She continued in this vein for several minutes, taking Samantha by the arm and leading her back through the elegant house to an airy breakfast room filled with potted ferns. The men trailed behind.

Jenny, Samantha and Garrick all sat at the table, while Hugh disappeared briefly and returned with tall glasses of iced tea and a cup of milk for Samantha. He picked up a spray bottle and misted the ferns, frond by frond, looking incongruous as he handled the delicate plants.

“Tell me,” Jenny said. “When you woke up in the hospital, what was your first thought?”

Samantha glanced at Garrick. “Well, I guess I wanted to know who the strange man by my bed was.”

Jenny clapped her hands together, looking tickled. “You must have been pretty shocked when he told you he was your husband.”

She nodded.

“I bet you were also thrilled, though—I mean, not every girl’s lucky enough to have such a hunk for a husband. Oh, this is so romantic! Now you can fall in love with each other all over again!”

“Jenny.” Garrick’s voice had a tense edge to it “Let’s not overwhelm her.”

“I’m not overwhelming her, Garrick. “I’m just welcoming her home.” She grinned impishly at her brother. “Can I help it if I’m excited for the two of you?”

Garrick shot her a quelling look, but didn’t say anything.

Samantha felt she was missing an important part of the conversation, but was too busy trying to interpret Jenny’s words to worry about it. Did Jenny really think she and Garrick had been in love? Well, she seemed to have a generally positive outlook on life, so maybe she’d only seen what she’d wanted to see. And hadn’t realized love wasn’t a factor in the marriage.

Jenny waved a hand around the breakfast room. “Do you really not remember any of this?”

“Nothing,” she said.

“She has amnesia,” Garrick reminded her.

“I know that,” Jenny said. “I know she doesn’t remember who we are, or even how much she loves you. And goodness knows she won’t remember that if you keep being so grouchy. But I’ve never met an amnesiac before and I want to know what it’s like. Do you remember the first day you met Garrick?”

Samantha shook her head.

Jenny leaned forward, her blue eyes alight. “How about the first time he kissed you?”

“Enough, Jenny,” Garrick interrupted. “I think we should give Samantha a chance to get her bearings and adjust herself to the fact that she has a family.”

Jenny stood up, scowling good-naturedly at him. “Oh, all right.” She put a hand on Samantha’s shoulder. “Come on, Sam, I’ll give you a tour and show you to your room.”

Garrick stood, too, looking every inch the no-nonsense business tycoon. “May I see you in the hallway for a moment, Jenny?”

While brother and sister left, Samantha remained at the table and finished her milk.

Hugh stood across the room, pruning fern leaves with a small pair of scissors.

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “The ferns, I mean.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks, Samantha.”

“The plants are important to you, aren’t they?”

Hugh nodded. “If I weren’t the Randalls’ housekeeper, I’d work in a greenhouse. If I weren’t lying in a ditch somewhere, that is.”

Samantha made a questioning sound, curious but hesitant to pry.