High Lonesome (21 page)

“No, I don’t want to talk,” she snapped. He jumped like he’d been slapped. “I’m just tired, Scott. I need to go to bed.” She turned again.

“Wait a minute. I don’t understand. You’re acting so strange. This afternoon…”

“This afternoon never should have happened,” she retorted.

His mouth gaped, and a veil of silence fell between them.

Her lips trembled. “I’m sorry, Scott. I’ve realized this will never work. It’s crazy to think it would. You know nothing about me.
I
know nothing about me. You have a life, and I don’t belong in it.”

Scott reached for her. “Don’t say that. You
do
belong here, with me. My life is nothing without you.”

She refused his touch. “Please, don’t say another word. I don’t want to hear anything else. I think it’s better if I leave the ranch. In fact, I’ve made up my mind. Tomorrow I’ll arrange for a room at the motel in town.”

His brows drew together. “Beth, this is ridiculous. Talk to me,” he pleaded. “Tell me what’s changed in the past hour.”

She pursed her lips and blurted, “What’s changed is that I’m married and I have a child.”

He stepped back, as if she’d shot him. “How do you know that for sure? Has your memory returned?”

“I remember enough. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. It’s what I’ve suspected. I truly appreciate all you’ve done for me. I’ll pay you back somehow. My leaving will be best for both of us.”

He plowed a hand through his hair and looked down at the floor. When he raised his pained gaze to her again, he asked, “How’s your leaving going to help? What about the things we said to each other this afternoon?”

She ignored the questions. “Don’t try to change my mind, Scott. It’s set. I’ll ask Cody to drive me to town tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind giving him the time off to do so. I’ll say goodbye to you now.” She offered her hand to shake, but he didn’t take it. So she closed the guest room door behind her.

Standing on the other side of the door, she held in sobs waiting for what seemed like ages until she finally heard his footsteps move down the hall. Throwing herself onto the bed face down, the confusing emotions of the past few days bubbled to the surface like an erupting volcano. The pillowcase grew damp as she silently cried until there were no more tears left.

Chapter Eleven

Sunday morning, Beth heard the jangle of Cody’s spurs before she saw him. He moseyed through the kitchen door and said, “Howdy.”

She was huddled over cold eggs and ham wearing a green western plaid shirt, jeans and her cowboy boots. “Hi, Cody. Could I talk to you a minute?” She was ready to ask him to take her to town, but she hadn’t yet told Carmen or Willow she was leaving, and had been trying to figure out the best way to bring it up. Willow was still in bed, but Carmen had been staring at her for the past ten minutes.

Carmen kept one eye poised on Beth as she filled a plate for Cody. “You want blueberry pancakes with your ham, eggs and potatoes?”

“Yes, ma’am. You can read my mind,” he replied. He washed his hands at the sink and climbed onto a barstool.

Carmen set the maple syrup and a steaming plate in front of him.

“
Muchos gracias
.” He dug in with gusto. “What is it you want to talk about?” he asked Beth between mouthfuls.

“I want to ask you a favor.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Is Mr. Scott still in the barn?” Carmen interrupted.

Cody glanced over his shoulder at her. “Yep. He’s sitting on a hay bale staring at his boots. Said he wasn’t hungry.”

“I wonder why.” She looked at Beth again, who did not comment.

Cody shoveled potatoes and eggs into his mouth before remembering the start of a conversation with Beth. “What were you saying?”

The phone pealed. Carmen grabbed it on the second ring. In a robust voice, she said, “Good morning, High Lonesome Ranch. This is Carmen, may I help you?”

Beth whispered to Cody, “I need a big favor”

Carmen’s voice lifted an octave as she spoke into the telephone receiver. “
Si
, Sheriff. I understand. I’ll tell them.
Adios
.” She hung up and stared at Beth with wide eyes.

“What is it, Carmen?” Cody asked. “You look like someone just walked over your grave.”

“That was Sheriff Griggs.”

That grabbed Beth’s attention. She swiveled to face Carmen. “What did he want?”

“He wanted me to tell you and Mr. Scott that there’s a man sitting in his office. He says to come quick. He says it’s the real deal this time.”

Beth’s gaze darted back and forth between Carmen and Cody, whose fork hung suspended in the air. “Did he tell you who the man is?” Her voice quivered.

“
Si
. Sheriff Buddy says the man claims to be…your husband. And he’s brought proof.”

“I knew it,” Beth uttered. “Cody, could you please drive me in to town?”

He looked confused. “Well, you know I’d be glad to take you, but Scott will want to himself. Won’t he? I’ll run out and get him.” He jumped off the stool as he grabbed a sausage off his plate.

“No!” she barked, grabbing his arm. “I want you. Please.”

Cody stopped dead in his tracks. “Sure, Beth. Whatever you want.” He exchanged a subtle glance with Carmen and then slid another egg down his throat.

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.” Beth scurried out of the kitchen and returned wearing her cowboy hat. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Are you sure you don’t want Scott to go with us?” Cody asked again, his young tanned face lined with concern. His jaw was grinding with another forkful of meat and potatoes.

“No. Carmen, you can tell Scott about the call later when he comes in. I have to do this by myself.” She gave the cook a big hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

Carmen frowned. “Why are you giving me a hug, Miss Beth? You’re coming back, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what’s going to happen at the sheriff’s office, but no matter what, I’ll come back and say a proper goodbye to you and Willow. I just want to thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck.” Carmen’s bushy brows knitted together.

“Thank you. Let’s go, Cody.”

He plucked his hat off the coat hook near the door, and the two of them dashed outside, jumped into his pickup and Cody gunned it. His truck barreled down the drive, kicking up dust.

Hearing the truck pass by the barn, Scott stepped out and peered down the road.
Where the hell is he going in such a hurry?

He’d been stabbing hay bales with a pitchfork—still reeling over Beth’s odd behavior the evening before. Tossing and turning all night, he’d been unable to sleep or make sense of things. Questions flooded his mind. What had come over her so suddenly? Why had she shut him out? Had her memory completely returned? Why didn’t she just tell him, if that was the case? Did she really believe she was married, or was it just an excuse? Maybe the declaration of his feelings down at the lake had scared her. Maybe her memory hadn’t returned at all, and she was simply confused and afraid. He’d understand, if that was it.

Scott flung down the pitchfork and ambled into the house for some breakfast. Usually, he ate earlier, and his stomach growled. The moment his boots crossed the threshold, Carmen gave him the news.

“What? Why didn’t someone come get me?” He kicked the bottom of the door.

“She wouldn’t let us. She wanted Cody to take her. I’m sorry, Scott. There was no stopping her.”

“It’s not your fault,” he relented. “She’s a stubborn woman.” He mumbled some curse words under his breath as he ran his hands under the sink and dried them on a dishtowel. “I’m going in to town. Can you watch Willow for me?”

“
Si
. But I don’t think Miss Beth wants you there.” Carmen narrowed her eyes at him. “What happened last night?”

“The hell if I know,” he answered with a shrug. “I’ll see ya later.” Slamming the door behind him, he jogged to the truck. He, too, left a trail of dust in his wake as he roared down the road toward Ghost Rock.

****

Beth’s legs wobbled as she swung them out of Cody’s pickup. When her boots hit the pavement, she stood frozen, unable to take a step. The wrangler came around to her side. “You ready?”

“I don’t know. I’m scared.”

“I wish Scott was here. Why didn’t you want him to bring you?”

“Never mind. Let’s go in.”

Cody held the door open for her. When he let go, it banged behind them, sounding like a gunshot blast. “Gee whiz. Buddy needs some new hinges for that thing,” he complained.

Because it was Sunday, there was no one in the reception area to greet them. The lobby was quiet except for the low buzz of the window air conditioner. At the sound of the front door banging shut, Buddy rushed out of his office and closed the door behind him. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt. Touching the brim of his cowboy hat, he said, “Good mornin’ Beth. Mornin’ Cody. Where’s Scott?”

“Scott couldn’t make it. Carmen said someone claiming to be my husband is here. Is he in your office?”

“He is. Why isn’t Scott with you?” Buddy repeated. He looked at Cody, who shrugged.

“Scott’s busy.” Beth answered in a voice so tart it could have spiced a cherry pie. “Can I please meet this man?” She strode toward the door. All she wanted was to get this over with; meet another crazy who claimed to know her, and then have Cody drive her to the nearest local motel.

Buddy caught up to her and touched her arm. His voice was hushed. “Let me give you the story in a nutshell before you barge in. He saw your photo on one of the cable television stations. He drove in last night from Arizona and left a message on our machine. I listened to my messages this morning when I came in to do some paperwork and gave him a call at the motel where he’s staying.”

“Arizona?”

“Tucson. I told him you’ve been staying at the High Lonesome with the man who found you. I explained how Scott ran found you in the desert disoriented and injured. He appears to be genuinely concerned about your well being and safety.”

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Jack West. Does it ring a bell?”

She shook her head. “You told Carmen he has some proof that I am who he says I am?”

“That’s right.” Buddy shifted from one foot to another. “Be prepared. I think he’s the real deal.”

A cold chill washed over her. “Okay. Let’s get on with this before I lose my courage and run out the door.”

Buddy put his hand on the knob and pushed his office door open.

“Wait,” she whispered, clamping her hand onto his wrist. “What if I don’t remember him at all? What happens then?”

“Just take it one step at a time. Maybe you
will
remember something. I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.”

She glanced at Cody, who was propped against the corner of Linda’s desk. He gave her a thumbs-up sign.

When she stepped into the sheriff’s office, a man turned and rose from the chair. Unlike the last time she’d walked into that room to face a strange man, this one didn’t come rushing toward her, scaring her half to death. He was over six feet tall, good-looking, groomed, muscular, and was dressed in casual but well made clothes. A smile unfolded on his face, but he waited for her to make the first move.

“Mr. West, is this your wife?” Buddy asked.

“Yes. Yes it is,” he said, obviously trying to rein in excitement. “She’s my wife, Angela.”

“Angela?” Beth whispered the name, trying it on for size.

“Hi Angie,” the man said. He stayed rooted to his spot and clasped his hands in front of him. “Sheriff Griggs told me about the amnesia. It’s unbelievable. It must have been a frightening few days for you, but I’m here now. I’ll take you home and help you recover and everything will be okay.”

“I don’t remember you,” she blurted. Her arms hung at her sides, her fists clenched. His cool gray eyes swung to meet the sheriff’s gaze.

Buddy cleared his throat. “The doctor here in town ran a CT scan on Beth…er, your wife, Angela, and although it showed no brain damage, her memory has still not returned. Have I got that correct, Mrs. West?”

“Not entirely.” She stared into the man, Jack’s, eyes. They burned into her, robbing her of self-possession. “My memory is starting to come back little by little. I’ve been having flashbacks on a regular basis.”

He looked surprised. “Well! That’s wonderful news. You can’t imagine how worried I’ve been since you went missing.”

“Since I went missing?” she mumbled. She studied him, trying to remember something, anything familiar about the man, but all she felt was a chill like the brush of spider webs creeping up her arms.. “Your name is Jack West?”

“Yes, and you’re my wife, Angela.”

“The sheriff says you have proof. Could you please show it to me?”

“Why don’t we all have a seat,” Buddy suggested, as he offered her a chair and then leaned against the corner of his desk.

Jack said, “We have a daughter. Her name is Heather and she’s four years old.” He unzipped a small leather briefcase, which was sitting on the floor, and lifted out the framed photo of Beth and the little dark-haired girl.

When he handed it to her, she stared at the picture and felt her eyes moisten. “I know her. I’ve been dreaming about her. She likes me to push her on the swing and read to her.”

A grin plastered the man’s face. Sheriff Griggs smiled, too.

“That’s right,” Jack acknowledged. “Swinging is one of her favorite things to do. She’s always begging you to take her to the park. That’s our little girl, Heather.”

Beth gazed around, as if the little girl might be hiding under the desk or behind a chair. “Where is she? Didn’t you bring her?”

He paused. “I left her with the neighbor. A lady you know well,” he added. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you all at once, and I didn’t want Heather to be upset, in case you didn’t remember her.”

“Where does she think I’ve been these last few days?” Beth asked.

“I told her you were visiting a friend. I didn’t know what else to say. She’s so young, she didn’t question it.”

“Did you bring anything else with you? My birth certificate, a passport, or our marriage certificate?” She choked out the words. Was she really married to this stranger?