Conard County Marine (2 page)

So Glenda rearranged things, putting the table between Coop and Kylie, and settling herself at the end between them. Then he smiled at Kylie, speaking easily. “I arrived in Baltimore three days ago, then flew out here to see Connie and the kids.”

“Where were you before?” Thank God she hadn’t completely lost her ability to make casual conversation.

For the first time she noticed how blue his eyes were, maybe because they almost twinkled at her. “I was here and there. Lately in Afghanistan and then Germany.”

She was relieved to feel her fingers starting to relax. Just in time, because they had begun to ache. “You must travel a lot.”

“I rarely get to hold still. Say, listen.”

Reluctantly she looked at him again and saw that he was addressing her. “Yes?”

“If me being here makes you uncomfortable, there
is
a motel. I’ll gladly move. Glenda told me you’re...recovering, and having me around might not be restful. I can understand that.”

She glanced at Glenda, and saw her sister looked unhappy. Was Glenda interested in this guy? Oh, hell. “No, of course you can stay here. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to move out.”

“As long as you’re sure, because I’m used to far worse digs than the local motel.”

A little laugh escaped Glenda. Relief? Kylie couldn’t tell. Glenda spoke. “Yeah, like rocky ground?”

“Yeah, like that. Cold, too. So really, neither of you need to worry about me.”

“I like Connie,” Kylie said, reaching for the old self she still retained. “I’ve known her all my life. It only seems right that if we have an extra room, you should be able to use it.”

Speaking the words had an odd effect on her. Maybe because it was the first time since she woke in the hospital that she’d made a real decision for herself. Taking control again, in a small way. She sensed a smile form on her lips. It felt good.

“Well, if I get to bothering you, just send me on my way.” He shook his head, smiling. “It wouldn’t be the first time my butt has been booted out of a place.”

“Why,” asked Glenda, “do I think there are some stories there that I’d love to hear?”

“The ones you’d most like to hear are the ones I will never share.” He winked at Kylie.

God, he was charming, she thought, and let her face relax into a small smile. Such a relief to be able to smile naturally again, not just because it was expected. There’d been too much of that in the hospital and while Glenda had helped pack up her forgotten life. Pretense. No pretense this time, and she simply smiled.

*

Coop wasn’t immune to that smile, not by a far sight. With eyes used to assessing men’s condition, he scanned Kylie. Still recovering, still not at full strength and still very much uneasy. But dang, when she smiled it was as if the sun lit the room.

She looked a bit like Glenda, and they’d always be recognized as sisters, but despite all she’d been through, Kylie still looked softer. Not physically softer, but emotionally softer. Of course, he’d heard all the bad stuff about Glenda’s divorce from Connie, but this was different. Whatever Kylie had been through, apparently she didn’t remember it, and failing to remember it had perhaps saved her kinder side.

Or maybe he was imagining it. All he knew for sure was that he felt the punch of attraction in his gut, both unwanted and dangerous. This woman needed to be sheltered for a while, and she didn’t need some guy like him coming on hot and heavy.

Still, it didn’t hurt to admire her wide hazel eyes, her small pert nose or the smile that hinted at an ability to hit the megawatt range when she was truly happy. Her light brown hair was almost blond, lighter than her sister’s. With effort he turned his attention back to Glenda.

“You’re working tonight, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So let me run over to Maude’s and bring you both back something for dinner. Connie’s patrolling tonight, too, and Ethan begged me to stay away so he could get the younger two kids to bed on time.”

A laugh escaped Glenda. “You’re a problem?”

Coop shrugged a shoulder, laughing himself. “Apparently I’m still new and exciting. I swear I don’t try to get them wound up.”

“Right,” said Glenda with a touch of sarcasm.

“Well, okay, they like to wrestle with me. So what do you two want for dinner? My treat.”

Glenda twisted around and pulled a paper menu from the diner off the fridge bulletin board, and a magnetic memo pad. “You need something solid to eat,” she told Kylie. “You’ve been pecking at your food like a bird and the doc said you need to eat more.”

“I eat what I can,” Kylie answered, sounding defensive.

“Then pick something with a lot of calories.”

Coop watched with amusement, sensing the older-younger sister dynamic at work. Kylie looked a bit rebellious, and Glenda was every inch the knowledgeable nurse.

“Say,” he said, “just order what you want and let Glenda yell at me. I’m not force-feeding anyone.”

Kylie looked at him and her smile returned, just a small one. “A brave man.”

“Who me?” He laughed.

Glenda spoke. “He doesn’t know me well yet.” Then she tapped the menu. “Pick whatever looks good. Just don’t go for another salad. You’re going to turn green.”

Kylie pulled the menu over in front of herself, and Coop noticed for the first time how fragile and small her hands were. She’d been a nurse? There must be more strength there than was immediately obvious. Of course, from what he’d heard, she’d been to hell and back. He figured her amnesia had to be a good thing.

But what did he know? he asked himself as he stepped outside at last with the list. The late-afternoon sun still bathed the world, though the air was growing chillier as evening approached.

He noticed the light. Light could be a good thing, providing clear sight lines and plenty of warning of bad things that might come. On the other hand, darkness had its advantages, too, like lots of cover. Odd to reflect that there’d been a time when he hadn’t much noticed the passage of hours or light, but over the years in the marines he’d become alert to its every shift and change. Just as he’d become highly attuned to changes in the wind, the barometric pressure, the movement of clouds, the whisper of even slight breezes. Acutely attuned to sounds, constantly cataloging them as natural or not.

He figured it would be a while before he settled into comfortably walking streets without being on guard.

But even as he noted the late-afternoon changes in the light and the town around him, his thoughts kept trailing back to Kylie Brewer. He’d seen that look in other eyes, that look of a terror that wouldn’t quite go away no matter how safe the situation. He’d seen that terror break grown men when it wouldn’t quit.

He hoped it wouldn’t break Kylie. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what had put it there, but that fear had evidently been stamped on her soul at a level so deep no memory was needed.

He hoped Glenda understood that. But how could she? She’d probably never dealt with anything like this.

But he had. A sigh escaped him as he pulled up in front of the diner. He would only be here a few weeks, but he felt an unexpected need to try to help Kylie in some way.

Fear like that wouldn’t just wash away. Sometimes it took years to drain. But maybe he could help it on its way.

Then he wondered if he was going to spend his time off by setting himself a new mission. It wouldn’t surprise him. He could have laughed at himself.

*

Glenda used the time to get Kylie settled into her old bedroom. She noted the way Kylie moved around, touching things, items that Glenda had taken care to put exactly where they had been before Kylie had moved out, including her pile of stuffed animals. The doc said she needed familiarity, so Glenda had ensured it was there.

She was relieved to see her sister’s face relaxing as she caressed various items. “I can’t believe it’s still the same.”

“No reason to change it,” Glenda half lied. “Your house, too.”

Kylie sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t remember,” she said finally. “I barely remember Brad, except what you told me about him, and your divorce...”

“Was about as ugly as they come,” Glenda answered frankly. She sat in the Boston rocker facing the bed. “I wish I could forget it.”

“But why so ugly?”

“Brad.” Glenda shrugged. “Apparently it wasn’t enough to leave me—Brad wanted to gut me, too.”

“Did he succeed?”

“Maybe a little. Anyway, he’s gone.”

She watched Kylie look down and run her fingers over the quilt that their grandmother had made. Then Kylie spoke. “You interested in Coop?”

Glenda blinked, then laughed almost helplessly. “Hell, no. He’s nice and everything, but Brad kind of killed my interest in the whole idea of happily-ever-after.”

Kylie sighed and returned her gaze to her sister. “That seems so wrong.”

“I’ll get over it. Once the stitches come out of the scars.”

That elicited a small, welcome laugh from Kylie. “Still? What an image.”

“Well, I’m a nurse, and that’s how I feel sometimes. I’m glad you weren’t around for it. I’d probably have soured you on half the human race.”

“You were angry?”

Glenda had to remind herself that Kylie wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a thing. All those furious phone calls, nasty texts, the bellyaching...all of it erased for Kylie except for the brief updates Glenda had given her while she packed Kylie for this move. And there didn’t seem to be any point in filling in more of the blanks. Some things were better forgotten.

“I was very angry,” she said finally. “Still am sometimes. But it doesn’t matter. What was it Grandma used to say? Good riddance to bad cess?”

Another sound of amusement escaped Kylie. “I’d almost forgotten she said that.”

“Well, I’ve had a million reasons to remember it thanks to Brad. At least he had the decency to move to San Francisco. Although I guess that means I’ll never visit the place now.”

Kylie tilted her head, smiling faintly. “It’s a big city. You’d probably never run into him.”

“Just my luck that I would.” But Glenda noted that despite her smile, a shadow moved over Kylie’s face. Probably thinking about visiting strange cities didn’t feel good right now.

While she spent a lot of time with Kylie being upbeat and cheerful, she was concealing a whole lot of concern for her sister. The amnesia was a worry because it resulted partly from brain damage. And while the neurologists had felt that the brain would reconstruct a great many connections with time, there could be repercussions that nobody had discovered yet. And then there was the whole big future facing her, with the loss of her dreams and no apparent desire to start them over again.

Aw, hell, Glenda thought. Too bad life didn’t provide magic wands. Somehow she didn’t think this journey of recovery was going to be easy for Kylie. Not one little bit.

It wasn’t as if Kylie could even go back to work as an RN. Not yet. Not until they could be sure what she’d forgotten and what she hadn’t, and whether there were other as yet undetected problems.

But that could wait. In the meantime, Glenda decided, her sister needed some kind of equilibrium, and she hoped she could provide it here.

Then they could worry about everything else.

Chapter 2

A
fter Glenda left for work, Kylie sat in the living room and found herself wishing Coop was there, stranger though he was. She hadn’t been alone for more than a minute or two since her attack. Either in the hospital, or later when Glenda had brought her back to her apartment to pack, the only solitary time she had experienced had been in the bathroom or when her sister went out to grab food.

She wasn’t enjoying it. As the evening shadows lengthened and day faded into night, her skin began to crawl. She knew she was safe here, in her own home, miles away from the attacker who had nearly killed her, but some part of her seemed unable to believe it yet.

Time, she reminded herself. Time would help her get past the unreasoning fear. There was no reason whatsoever to believe that her attacker would even look for her again. None. The cops had told her that. It wasn’t as if she could identify the man who did this, and they’d made sure word had gotten out through the press that she had amnesia. To protect her. She should feel grateful for that, but instead she felt as if her failings had been announced to the world.
See Kylie Brewer, the woman with amnesia.
God.

The knock on the front door shocked her, and a spear of terror ripped through her. For long moments she couldn’t even move as her heart raced and her mouth turned dry.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said aloud in a muffled voice, her tongue practically sticking to the roof of her dried mouth. “You’re home. No one outside this town knows where you are. It’s just a neighbor.”

The knock came again. She had to answer it. Someone might be looking for Glenda. It could be important. Or maybe it was Coop, locked out. She had no idea whether Glenda had given him a key.

On stiff legs that didn’t want to move easily, she rose and walked toward the front door. Her feet felt leaden. Shaking, she finally turned the latch on the dead bolt and opened the door.

A familiar, smiling face greeted her. Todd Jamison, a man she had known most of her life, one she had dated in high school. Surprise replaced shock and she gaped at him. “Todd?”

His smile was warm. He was still a handsome man, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a white dress shirt with his jeans. “Hey, Kylie. I heard you were back and I wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay. Is that all right?”

Knowing him eased her fears. Not that she felt entirely comfortable—in fact, she felt edgy—but she couldn’t blame him for that. Nor could she slam the door in his face when he’d been kind enough to come by and check on her.

“I’m tired,” she admitted honestly, “but a few minutes is okay.”

So she let him inside, reminding herself of all the years Todd had been part of her life, whether as a classmate or briefly as someone she had dated. Somehow, however, when she closed the door behind him, the ants began to crawl along her nerves again. God, she had to stop feeling as if threats hovered in every moment of the day. She’d never be able to do anything with her life if she became a hermit terrified of other human beings.

She didn’t offer him coffee or tea because she hoped he wouldn’t stay long, and she tried to remind herself that she’d just been wishing she weren’t alone. Now she wasn’t alone.

“I read the papers,” he said as he perched on the edge of the couch. “Maybe it’s dumb to mention it, but I just want you to know how happy I am that you’re okay. Except...you can’t remember? That’s a good thing, right?”

She’d already heard that more times than she wanted to count. Not being able to remember the attack was a blessing. Losing three years of her life fell into an entirely different category. She cleared her throat, not wanting to delve into this. “I’m glad I don’t remember the attack.”
Leave it alone, Todd. Please leave it alone.

“I’m sure you are.” He frowned faintly. “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what people are supposed to say. Never did this before.”

“Me, either.”

Then his smile returned, the smile that had once, all too briefly, attracted her. “I guess we’re all going to be ham-handed for a while. So are you glad to be home? Or is life around here too boring now?”

“How would I know?”

Kylie looked down, realizing she had just rudely ended the conversation. Worse, she didn’t even feel like apologizing for it. What was wrong with her?

But before she could figure out how to ease her blunt question, she heard the side door in the kitchen open. Fear slammed her yet again.

*

Feeling like an extra wheel, Coop had left the ladies to eat their dinner, saying he needed a stroll before dining himself. Walking the streets of Conard City was slowly becoming a pleasure for him. No need to wonder what was around every corner or behind every building. Just nice people, when he ran into them, who smiled and gave him a friendly nod. A lot of them seemed to know he was Connie’s cousin, which he suspected eased his way. At least he didn’t get regarded with suspicion.

He toyed with the idea of moving to the motel, to give Kylie space, then cast it aside. Glenda had generously offered him a place to stay while he visited, and he didn’t want to offend her in some way.

As for his cousin and her brood...every time he thought of those three high-energy kids—two of their own and a daughter who was older, from Connie’s previous marriage—he had to grin. They were a handful of boundless energy, especially the two youngest. Connie and Ethan both worked, and by the time the evening was drawing to a close, whichever of them was around for the bedtime chores had started to look exhausted.

He tried to help, but Ethan was right: his presence seemed to excite the youngsters more. He hoped that would pass as they got used to having him around or Connie was apt to beg him never to visit again.

He suddenly realized that light had almost faded from the day and he switched course to head back to the house. Glenda would be at work, and Kylie would be alone. While he wasn’t sure Kylie really wanted him around, Glenda had mentioned that
she’d
feel better if Kylie weren’t left in solitude, at least for a while.

Coop understood. Regardless of her inability to remember, Kylie had lost her basic sense of safety. The unimaginable had happened to her. Being alone, even in a familiar house, might be difficult for a while.

So he’d play it by ear. If she wanted him to disappear, he’d go up to his room. She’d still know someone was in the house if something frightened her.

Glenda’s car was gone when he got back to the house, but a different one was parked out front. An old friend? Nevertheless, he sped up his pace, just in case Kylie was nervous.

When he got to the house, he let himself in the side door and heard voices coming from the living room. A man’s voice. Kylie’s rarer and quieter. He made no secret of his approach. A big man, he could be stealthy or noisy as the situation demanded. Right now he chose noisy.

Two lamps had been turned on in the living room. Kylie sat nearly huddled in an armchair, facing a handsome man of about her age, maybe late twenties, who sat on the couch with legs splayed and his elbows resting on his knees. Leaning toward her. In an instant Coop gathered that Kylie was subtly leaning away as best she could. Body language spoke volumes.

“Am I interrupting?” Coop asked.

“No...no...” Kylie said tautly. “Come in.”

The man on the couch stood immediately, smiling broadly. “Todd Jamison. Kylie and I grew up together. Just thought I’d see how she was doing.”

Todd offered his hand and Coop returned the smile as he shook it. “Evan Cooper, just call me Coop.” But even as he made the pleasant greeting, he was also ticking off a catalog. The guy was a little over average height, fit and looking like he could have stepped off the cover of
GQ
, rancher’s edition. Jeans, a white shirt, all neatly pressed, and boots that had been highly polished. Brown hair artfully tousled. A fashion plate.

But then Coop met his dark gaze, and felt the back of his neck prickle. He’d seen eyes like that before, the emptiness of men who’d seen too much on a battlefield. “You military?” he asked casually.

“Never had the honor,” Todd answered easily. “No, I’m a financial adviser. I work from home here but have to travel a lot. I just got back in town and wanted to check on Kylie.”

“I’m fine,” Kylie said, the slightest edge in her voice.

It struck Coop as a dismissal, but not Todd apparently. Instincts were kicking in, and although Coop already had the lay of the land, he scanned the room quickly again. Cabbage-rose couch from a past era, the armchair in which Kylie sat, reasonably new, a recliner that was old enough it creaked when it was extended, a glass-fronted bookcase, a flat-screen TV...nothing out of place. He was probably overreacting, which wouldn’t surprise him given the last few years of his life, but then his gaze settled on Kylie again, the way she seemed to have shrunk. Todd might be an old friend, but she wasn’t welcoming him with much warmth.

Wondering if he should try to do something about what was clearly an uncomfortable situation for Kylie, his thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the front doorbell. He looked at Kylie. “Want me to get it?”

“Why not?” She didn’t exactly sound happy about it.

Shrugging inwardly, he went to open the door, wondering if maybe all Kylie had wanted tonight was to be by herself. Maybe Glenda worried too much about her being alone.

He opened the door and a strawberry blonde breezed through. Two steps in, she froze and scanned him head to foot. “My, my,” she said, “you must be Coop. I’m Ashley. Ashley Granger. Kylie knows me from way back.”

Before Coop could do anything but close the door behind her, Ashley had stepped into the living room, and he was relieved to hear genuine pleasure in Kylie’s voice as she said, “Ashley!”

“It’s been too long, girl,” Ashley answered.

A moment later he rounded the door frame to see the women hugging. Todd stood to one side, smiling faintly.

A regular convocation. Suddenly feeling like an intruder, Coop decided to go make some coffee. It’d give these three old friends some time together.

But just as he was turning away, he heard Ashley address Todd, and her tone caused him to hesitate.

“I’m surprised to see you, Todd. You avoided Kylie for a long time after she turned you down for the prom.”

Todd laughed easily. “Sheesh, Ashley, that was a long time in the past. I got over it ages ago. Of course I wanted to make sure Kylie is okay.”

“Me, too,” said Ashley, then turned back to Kylie. “So I want to know everything.”

Kylie blinked, her face tightening, then sank into her chair again. “Everything? I don’t remember
anything
!”

Ashley dropped to a knee beside her and took her hand. “I don’t mean about that, Kylie. You know that.” Her voice had gentled. “I mean about now—how you’re feeling, are you glad to be home? That’s okay, right?”

Coop had to resist the urge to throw everyone out right now. Not his decision, not his house. But he didn’t like the way Kylie was looking. And these were her friends?

But Ashley remained gentle and concerned and Kylie began to relax a bit. Todd on the other hand seemed to get a different message.

“I’ll be going,” he said. “Call me if you need anything at all, Kylie. I’ll see you again soon. You just take care of yourself.”

One problem solved, Coop thought as Todd let himself out. Then he looked at the women. “I guess I should make myself scarce.”

Kylie shook her head and Ashley looked directly at him. “I don’t mind you being here. It’s up to Kylie.”

“Stay,” Kylie said, sounding stronger. “I was just shocked to see Todd. We haven’t had much to do with each other since high school. I mean, we’ve been casual friends, but he’s not the first person I would have expected to show up.”

“Curiosity visit,” Ashley said sharply. “You’ll probably get a lot of those. But not me,” she added with a smile. “I promise. I just want to know how you are
now
, and Marisa, Connie and Julie designated me.” She looked up at Coop. “We’ve been a gang forever. And would you please sit?”

“You could take a seat yourself,” he answered humorously, but accepted the hint, settling onto one end of the couch. Towering over the women probably wasn’t very comforting to either of them. “Oh, I wondered about coffee. Anyone?”

“No thanks,” came two prompt responses. Ashley sat on the other end of the couch. “So everyone wants to know how you’re feeling. Still worn out by everything? Getting your energy back? Julie wanted to have a Scrabble night but decided we ought to find out if you were up to it yet.”

“Not yet. Thanks. These big waves of fatigue just wash over me from time to time.”

And waves of fear, Coop suspected. Then he took the bull by the horns. It had to be hard for Kylie to dance around things, and she already looked tired. “It’s a lot to deal with, not remembering the last few years, recovering physically, moving home with your sister. It’d wear anyone out, I’d think.”

Kylie surprised him with a crooked smile. “But aren’t you always on the go?”

“Well, yes,” he admitted. “But I’ve had years to get used to it. You’re probably used to being more settled.”

“I was. Once. I don’t know about recently.”

The stark honesty drew silence from both Coop and Ashley. They exchanged a quick look, then Coop rose. “I want that coffee. I’ll be back in a few.”

The least he could do was give Kylie the time to talk freely with Ashley. If she could. No question that he was the odd man out, and acutely aware of it. He listened to the murmur of their voices from the kitchen and nodded to himself. Give the ladies some time alone. It might do Kylie a world of good.

*

“He’s a hunk,” Ashley remarked after Coop walked away.

“I guess.” Which was kind of an evasive comment, Kylie thought as she heard herself. She
had
noticed he was a hunk. She just wasn’t interested in hunks or much else right now except the constant wondering about all she’d forgotten. The memory loss left her feeling unsettled. Uneasy. Unable to really trust herself, never mind anyone else.