Returning Home

RETURNING HOME

Karen Whiddon

Copyright © 1998 by Karen Whiddon

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

To my father, Charles Corcoran
—
though
we live miles apart, you are never far from my heart.

Chapter One

Sunset, like winter, came late to the dusty plains of the Texas Panhandle. In early July, even at dusk, heat still shimmered up from the pavement, making fleeting mirages ahead on the highway.

Hope Glidewell was coming back... and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. How easy it would be to continue on past Dalhart, the little town where she’d grown up. She could head northwest to Colorado, for a welcome vacation amid the pine trees and snow
capped mountains. Most folks did keep on driving, seeing Dalhart only through the dust they raised.

Hope found herself wishing she were one of them. It had been a long time since she’d traveled Highway 87, a long time since she’d left here for the bright lights of Dallas. The town looked much the same.

Silver grain silos gleamed in the unrelenting sun, and rusting farm machinery sat forgotten in dry fields. Herds of white-faced brown cattle drifted through the fields, flicking their tails in the unrelenting wind.

Dalhart. Where Jeff still lived. The thought came unbidden, although he was the reason she was returning after all these years. She and Jeff had been inseparable during high school. They’d planned a life together far away from here. College, a football scholarship for him and hard work for her, then careers for both of them, and then marriage. And children. A boy and a girl.

Thinking of this filled her with a hollow ache. How silly, how
pointless
, it all seemed now. Their daughter
would be nine now—if she’d lived. Even after so many years, the memory still ripped Hope apart She would probably never have any more children, not ever again.

Hope made a left past the train tracks, her heart thudding in anticipation and dread.

A few weeks before graduation, she’d found out the truth from Jeff, found out that he had lied. That was when she’d come to hate Dalhart with a
restless
, angry passion, all because of him.

Before the ink had dried on her diploma, she’d left town, never thinking she would return. Even her parents had retired and moved to the Texas coast. There was no reason to come back.

Then his sister Charlene had called. Charlene was her former best friend.

The sparse pinon trees, permanen
tly
bent by the force of the wind, seemed to echo her loneliness. She didn’t belong here now. She never would again.

Welcome home, she thought. Blink once and you’ll miss it. Swinging past the bank on Denver Avenue, Hope turned into her old neighborhood, feeling as if she’d somehow gone back in time.

She pulled up in front of Jeff’s old house, the one he’d grown up in. Since their mother had died, Charlene lived there alone.

Heart in her throat, Hope killed the engine. Almost as soon as the air conditioning went off, she could feel the heat. She took several deep gulps of air, trying to bolster her nerve, part of her amused at the irony of it all. She, Hope Glidewell, elementary school teacher, shaking in her boots at the idea of running into her old high school boyfriend.

Even if Dalhart hadn’t changed, surely Jeff had. She’d tried, without much success, to picture him balding, his once athletic body with a pot belly. It didn’t seem possible.

She had a choice, she told herself. She could still leave. Turn the key in the ignition, make a U-tu
rn
in the middle of the street, and hightail it back to Dallas.

Then the front door opened, a tall man with broad shoulders and a mane of thick golden hair appeared on the porch, and the choice was taken from her.

Jeff

Knees quaking, Hope got out of the car. The sun shone in her eyes, coloring him in glowing light
.
She shaded her eyes with her hand and stared. From the shadows of the porch, he stared back.

The years had been kind to him, she thought inanely. Heaven help her, the man on the porch looked as handsome as ever. He still had the same full head of sandy hair, hair that she’d once loved to thread her fingers through. He looked tan, fit, and virile. He was healthy. He was whole. He looked more like a movie star than ever. Could Charlene possibly have
lied?

He moved forward. She stood frozen, one clenched hand gripping the top of her open car door. Moving with that same lanky stride she remembered, he came towards her. As he got closer, she realized something was wrong, something that gave truth to his sister’s desperate phone call.

When he stopped five feet away, Hope looked into his eyes and tried not to cry.

Exuberant, full of life and laughter, Jeff’s eyes had always
perfectly
mirrored his mood. Whether he was happy, sad, furious, or in love, she had always been able to tell in an instant, merely from his deep green eyes.

But not now.

Meeting his gaze, she saw no spark of recognition, no animation,
and no
emotion. His eyes were blank, the eyes of a man with no past, no future, and nothing but the present

A man with no memory.

“Jeff?” Forcing his name out through cracked lips, Hope felt an impossible swell of emotion. It filled her throat, making it difficult to speak. “Jeff?” she said again, her voice breaking.

At the sound of his name, he stopped, a mere six feet from her. Staring her down as if she were an opponent on the football field, he cocked his head. “Do I know you?”

His words felt like knives, sharp and wounding. Jeff didn’t recognize her. Charlene had not lied.

Hope shook her head, startled to realize that her hands were shaking. Emotion clogged her throat, making it impossible to speak.

“Do I know you?” he repeated, irritation making his deep voice husky. He moved closer, the sheer breadth and height of him intimidating.

Hope took a step back.

“There you are!” Jeff’s twin sister came bursting out the front door. She, too, seemed unchanged by time, her eyes the same green, the same curly mass of golden hair tumbling down her back, nearly to her waist “Let me look at you! I wondered when you would arrive.”

After a fierce hug, Charlene drew back to study Hope.

Hope allowed herself a faint smile, trying not to show her relief, her confusion. “Well, it took a little over six hours from Dallas. ’’ She reached for a suitcase with one hand, staggering under the weight.

“Let me.” Suddenly, Jeff was there, his elbow brushing hers, his large, tanned hand closing over the suitcase handle, his fingers touching hers.

He seemed to feel nothing.

That, she reminded herself firmly, was all in the past.

“Thanks, Jeff!” Her smile overly bright, Charlene gestured towards the house. “If you would put the bags in the guest bedroom, I’d appreciate it
.
”

Both women watched
silently
as Jeff hefted the weight of the suitcases and turned towards the house.

“Come on in.” Charlene led the way up the steps. Hope followed
reluctantly
.

The house was cool and dry. They had central air now, a welcome change. They’d opened windows and used box fans when Hope had been here last “Thanks so much for coming.” Blowing a wayward strand of golden hair out of her eyes, Charlene attempted to smile. She failed miserably. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this.”

Hope glanced around the tidy room that evoked so many memories, and shrugged. “To be honest with you, I have my doubts.”

Charlene’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, honey. You might be his last chance.”

“But surely the doctors—”

“The doctors said to give it time.” Charlene made a sweeping gesture with her hands. “It’s been two months. The insurance company has settled and the hardware store needs to be rebuilt. I’ve started the process, but without
Jeff...”

“Rebuilt?” Hope remembered there had been a fire, but she hadn’t realized the store had been destroyed.

“The store burned to the ground. We’re lucky
J
eff managed to crawl out
.
Otherwise
...”
Again, Char
lene let her words trail off, staring into the distance. Stark pain showed for a moment in her tanned face, so like her brother’s; then she visibly collected herself. “You must be tired. Let me show you to your room.”

Keeping her expression tranquil, Hope nodded and followed Charlene.

The guest bedroom also seemed untouched by time. There was a new comforter, white and floral, and new curtains, but the furniture and the decor had not changed. Hope felt her cheeks heat as she eyed the bed, remembering a sultry summer after
noon in this very room
so long ago. His parents gone and his sister working, Hope and Jeff had been left alone. His honeyed words and hot kisses had been too sweet for her to resist.

They’d made love for the first time in this very room.

Hope shook her head, realizing Charlene was speaking.

“Make the house your own. The refrigerator is fully stocked, clean towels are in the cabinet in the hall. Anything you need, if you can’t find it, find me. Have you eaten?”

Still in a daze, Hope patted her stomach. “I’m more tired than hungry. I think I’d like to rest a little.”

She glanced at her watch. It was barely eight- thirty. She had packed the newest thriller, as well as a slew of romances she’d been meaning to read
throughout the school year. If anything, summertime was her time to relax.
 
If, she thought wryly, relaxing would be possible around Jeff.

    
“See you in the morning, then.” Sounding more hopeful than she had since Hope arrived, Charlene gave her a quick hug. “Tomorrow we have to talk to
Jeff."

     
Something in the way she said those words worried Hope. “Talk to Jeff?”

    
Charlene ducked her head and looked, heaven help her, embarrassed. “You know,” her voice wavered, “we have to tell him about you.”

    
Oh, no. Hope’s heart sank. “You mean you haven’t—”

   
“Not yet.” With a guilty sort of smile, Charlene wrung her hands. “I didn’t know exactly how.”

    
“So he doesn’t even know who I am.” It was not a question.

    
“Or why you’re here.”

    
Hope groaned. “I knew I should have spent this summer down in Corpus Christi with mom and dad.”
  

    
“The coast is lovely,” Charlene agreed. “I’m sorry, really, I am. I simply thought it would be better if we told
him together. Otherwise—”

    
When she didn’t finish, Hope finished for her. “Otherwise he might not have wanted me to come.”
    

    
“Exactly.” Jeff’s sister looked so relieved that Hope couldn’t help but smile. “You do understand, don’t you?”

    
She understood, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “It must be difficult, dealing with this.”

    
“Yes, it is.” Charlene leaned close, meeting Hope’s gaze earnestly. “I just want my brother back.”

    
“I know,” Hope sighed. After all, that was the rea
son she had come here. “We’ll talk to him in the morning.”

Closing the door, Hope lay back on the bed, fully clothed. From the moment she’d arrived here, she’d known this was a huge mistake. The sooner she helped Jeff remember who he was, the sooner she could head home.

The sun, startlingly bright, woke Hope early. At first, not certain where she was, she allowed herself to linger in bed, dozing. The sheets felt cool and crisp, the morning light was warm, and comforting, and she could smell the faint, tantalizing scent of brewing coffee.

Stretching, she sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes, and realized where she was. Dalhart Jeff.

She groaned. Right now, before she faced anybody, she needed a shower. Then a cup or two of strong coffee and a bagel. Maybe then she would feel up to telling Jeff the scheme his sister had cooked up.

She wondered how he would take it

The Jeff of the old days would have laughed it off. He would have slung a careless arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close for a lingering kiss. With a quick flex of his hand, he would have promised her a world of delights, later, when they were alone.

Damn, she had to stop thinking like this. The Jeff of the old days was gone forever. Even that Jeff, the bold, cocky boy who’d sworn he would always love her, had
turned out to be a sham.

Because thinking seemed hazardous around this place, Hope jumped out of bed. Barefoot, she padded on the worn carpet to the bathroom, grabbing a cou
ple of plush towels from the closet on the way. The bathroom door was partially open, the light was on, and she counted herself lucky that no one was in the hall. Avoiding Jeff and his blank stare had become her number one priority, at least until she had no choice.