He brought her closer. “I’m glad I met you. I’m even glad I lost my memory.”

“I’m glad we met, too. But you shouldn’t say that about having amnesia.”

“It’s giving me a chance to start over.”

“This isn’t starting over, J.D. It’s a break from your other life.”

“I don’t care about my other life.”

“You shouldn’t say that, either. It’s important to care about who you are.”

How could he care about something he couldn’t remember? They didn’t talk anymore, and he was grateful for the silence. He didn’t want to disturb the bond. He wanted the luxury of knowing her in this way. He was in the moment. He was part of it. John Doe and Jenna Byrd, he thought.

He danced with her as if his amnesia depended on it, the heat between them surging through his veins.

This was a memory he would never forget.

About the Author

SHERI WHITEFEATHER is a bestselling author who has won numerous awards, including readers’ and reviewers’ choice honors. She writes a variety of romance novels for Mills & Boon. She has become known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation.

Sheri is of Italian-American descent. Her great-grand-parents immigrated to the United States from Italy through Ellis Island, originating from Castel di Sangro and Sicily. She lives in California and enjoys ethnic dining, shopping in vintage stores and going to art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers. Visit her website at www.SheriwhiteFeather.com.

The Texan’s
Future Bride
Sheri Whitefeather

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Judy Duarte and Crystal Green

for supporting my dreams

and always believing that they will come true.

Chapter One

What the—?

As Jenna Byrd steered her truck toward the Flying B, she noticed a man walking along the private road that led to the ranch. Or stumbling was more like it. He didn’t look familiar, but he didn’t seem out of place, either. His dusty jeans, plain T-shirt and battered boots were typical small-town Texas attire. He was missing a hat, though. Had he lost it somewhere? His short dark hair was decidedly messy.

Jenna frowned. Clearly, he was snockered in the middle of the day. Cowboys could be a hell-raisin’ breed. Of course she didn’t dally with that kind. Although she was hoping to find a cowboy to call her own, she was attracted to well-behaved men, not rabble-rousers who could barely put one foot in front of the other. He was ambling toward her pickup instead of away from it.

Good grief. She couldn’t just leave him out here. The Flying B was about five miles down the road, and in his condition, he would never make it. And why he was heading toward the ranch was beyond her.

She stopped her truck and sighed. She knew he wasn’t a Flying B employee. She’d made a point of meeting everyone on the payroll. Jenna owned a portion of the ranch. She and her sister and their cousin had inherited equal shares of the Flying B, and they were going to turn it into a B and B.

She rolled down her window and said, “What are you doing out here?”

He looked at her as if he wasn’t really seeing her. His deep brown eyes were glazed. He didn’t respond.

She repeated the question.

He blinked at her. He was probably around her age, thirty or so, with tanned skin and striking features—handsome, even in his wasted state.

Curious, she tried to figure him out. Maybe he was a whiskey-toting hitchhiker. Or maybe he was affiliated with another ranch in the area and after he’d tied one on, he’d mistakenly taken the wrong road. There had to an explanation for his disorderly presence.

Hoping to solve the dilemma, she asked, “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he parroted.

This was going nowhere. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

He squinted. “I have?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so.”

Easy for him to say. He was too drunk to know the difference. While she debated how to handle the situation, he staggered a little more.

“I feel funny,” he said.

No kidding, she thought.

“I’ve got a headache.” He rubbed the back of his head. When he brought his fingers forward, the tips were red.

Her pulse jumped. He was bleeding.

She parked and leaped out of her truck. Had he gotten into a brawl? Overly intoxicated men were prone to that sort of behavior. But whatever he’d done, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting his wound treated.

“My cousin’s fiancé is a doctor. He lives at the ranch where I live, and I think he’s home today. If he isn’t, I’ll take you to his office.”

“No. That’s okay.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “I’m better now.”

Obviously, he wasn’t. She slipped her arm around him and realized that he didn’t smell of alcohol. Most likely, he hadn’t been drinking, which made his condition a bigger cause for concern. He was probably dazed because of the injury.

“Come on. Let’s get you into the truck.”

Shouldering his weight wasn’t easy. He was about six feet, packed with lean muscle mass. At five-five, with a slight build, she was no match for him.

He lagged against her, and she held him tighter. Nonetheless, he kept insisting that he was fine, which clearly wasn’t the case. He was definitely confused.

Once he was seated, she eased away from him and closed the door. She got behind the wheel and reached for her cell phone. She called Mike Sanchez or “Doc” as he’d become known in these parts. He was at the ranch. She asked him to meet her at the main house and told him that she was bringing an injured man with her.

“The back of his head is bleeding.” She glanced at her passenger. He was staring out the window with those glazed eyes. She lowered her voice. “I don’t know much about these things, but I think he has some sort of concussion. I found him wandering along Flying B Road.”

“Don’t worry, Jenna,” Doc replied. “Just stay calm and get him here.”

“I’m on my way.” She ended the call, then started the engine and headed for her destination.

The cowboy turned to look at her. “Are we on a date?”

Yikes. Talk about befuddled. His condition was worse than she thought. “I’m taking you to see a doctor, remember?”

“Your hair is pretty.” He reached out as if he meant to grasp a loose tendril of her wavy gold locks.

Jenna’s heartbeat skittered. He didn’t make contact, but she could almost imagine how his tortured touch would feel.

Almost. She focused on the road.

“Very pretty,” he said.

She gripped the wheel, and to keep him from reaching for her hair again, she redirected his thoughts.

“What’s your name?” she asked, rephrasing her original “Who are you?” question.

He furrowed his brows. It wasn’t a trick question, but he didn’t appear capable of a response. He didn’t know his own name.

“It’s okay,” she said. “That’s why I’m taking you to see a doctor.” Besides, all they had to do was look at his ID to see who he was. Everyone carried identification with them. Still, not knowing something as simple as his name wasn’t a good sign.

He leaned against the window, then closed his eyes. She hoped that he wasn’t going to pass out. That wouldn’t be a good sign, either.

She increased her speed, bumping along the road, her truck flanked by green pastures and grazing cattle.

Finally, as the main house came into view, she breathed a sigh of “thank You, God” relief.

The dashing young doctor was waiting for her on the wraparound porch. Tammy, her equally fetching cousin, was there, too. Jenna had only met Tammy recently, when all of the inheritance whoopla had begun. None of the heirs had grown up on the Flying B or visited when they were kids because their families had been estranged from each other. So, when they’d gotten called to their ailing grandpa’s bedside, and when he’d died, they’d wept for a man they’d just begun to know.

She glanced at the cowboy beside her. Now wasn’t the time to think about men she barely knew. Or death. Or anything bad.

Jenna stopped the truck, and Doc opened the passenger side and escorted the patient into the house.

Once Jenna exited the vehicle, Tammy approached her, and they went inside, too.

Doc didn’t waste time. He was already examining the stranger, who sat on the edge of a sturdy leather sofa, looking as confused as ever.

Jenna stood back and frowned. “Do you recognize him?” she asked Tammy. “Do you know if he’s from around here?”

“No.”

“Me, either.” But dang if he didn’t make her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t get his tortured attempt to touch her out of her mind.

Just a few feet away, Doc was telling the patient that he was going to need a couple of stitches. In fact, Doc was preparing to patch him up. But the cut itself was incidental. What obviously concerned Doc were his other symptoms.

Apparently Jenna was right. Indeed, he had a concussion.

Thing was, his identity was still unknown. He wasn’t carrying any form of identification; Doc checked his person.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Jenna whispered to Tammy.

“I don’t know.”

Neither did Jenna. But it was clear from the examination that he had no recollection about himself or how he’d gotten hurt.

After his cut was sanitized and stitched, Doc made arrangements for him to be treated at the local hospital. He spoke gently to the patient, then explained the situation to Jenna.

“I’m going to order a CT scan,” he said. “At this point, it’s impossible to know the severity of his trauma.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” she asked, making sure the stranger was out of earshot.

“Bleeding in the brain.”

She shivered.

Doc concluded, “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s get a thorough diagnosis first.”

“I want to go to the hospital with him.” She was unable to bear the thought of abandoning him.

“That’s fine. A police report will have to be filed, too, since we don’t know who he is or what triggered the injury. He’ll be admitted as a John Doe.”

Jenna didn’t like the impersonal sound of that. But she didn’t like any of this. She preferred to have her ducks in a tidy yellow row, with carefully laid plans, no matter what aspect of her life it concerned. She’d even created a list of the type of qualities she wanted her future husband to have, a man who would be nothing like her father. She used to be disappointed in her dad, but these days she was downright ashamed of him. A humiliating skeleton in his closet had surfaced.

She glanced at the stranger. Did he have skeletons in his closet, too? Even if he did, it was none of her concern. She was going to see him through this injury and forget about him.

Doc and Tammy took him to the hospital, and Jenna followed them in her truck.

She sat in the waiting room while he underwent the CT scan. Was she going to be able to forget about him? Already she was feeling oddly attached, as if she was responsible for him somehow.

She glanced over at Tammy, who occupied the seat next to her. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“It shouldn’t take long. Rather than wait for a written report, Mike is going to look at the scans himself, along with the radiologist, of course.”

“It’s nice having a doctor in the family.”

Tammy quirked a smile. “Very nice.” She stood up. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“How do you take it?”

“Cream and sugar.”

“Coming right up.”

Jenna watched her cousin head for the vending machine. She was a petite brunette, thriving on newfound love. She and Jenna formed a bond when Jenna had helped her with a makeover that had caught the doctor’s eye. Tammy was a tomboy turned hot tamale. She could still ride and rope with the best of ‘em, but she also looked darn fine in feminine attire. The girl could cook up a storm, too. Soon the Flying B cook would be retiring and Tammy would be taking over as the down-home B and B chef.

Tammy returned with two cups and handed Jenna one. She took a sip. It tasted better than expected.

Jenna said about the stranger, “I can’t help but wonder who he is. What his name is, what his family is like.”

“Hopefully he’ll remember soon.”

“I just hope the scan comes out all right.” She drank a bit more of her coffee. “He said some weird things when we were in the truck. He told me that he liked my hair, then he asked me if we were on a date.”

“That must have been awkward.”

“It was.” She frowned. “What sort of treatment do they do if someone is bleeding in the brain?”

“I have no idea, but you shouldn’t be dwelling on that.”

“I know. But I’m the one who found him.”

“Finders keepers, losers weepers?” Tammy put her cup beside a dog-eared magazine. “Did you ever say that when you were a kid?”

“All the time. But I hope that doesn’t apply to this situation.”

“Like someone is left behind weeping for him?”

Jenna nodded, and they both fell silent. But it seemed better not to talk. Other people had just entered the waiting room with somber looks on their faces, as if they were afraid that they might be left weeping for whoever they were there to see.

Time ticked by.

Then Tammy looked up and said, “There’s Mike,” as her fiancé strode toward them.

Jenna got to her feet, with Tammy on her heels.

Doc said to them, “The results were normal, but we’re going to keep him overnight for observation.”

“Then what?” Jenna asked.

“Then we’ll reevaluate his condition in the morning.”

“Do you think his memory will return by then?”

“It’s possible. Oftentimes these sorts of lapses only last a day or two. But it could continue for a while. It’s hard to say.”

“Can I see him?”

“Once we check him into a room, you can visit him.”

By the time that happened, the stranger was asleep. Doc and Tammy went home, and Jenna sat in a stiff plastic chair beside his bed and watched him. She used the opportunity to study his features: dark eyebrows, a strong, sharp nose, cheekbones a male model would envy, medium-size lips with a bit of a downward slant. That made her curious about his smile. Was it bright? Crooked? Brooding? She noticed that he was harboring a five-o’clock shadow. The sexy scruff made him look even more like the cowboy she assumed he was. The hospital gown, however, didn’t; it robbed him of his edge.

He stirred in his sleep, and she frowned. Although he had a semiprivate room and the curtain was drawn, the TV of the older man next to him sounded in her ears. A game show was playing, a program that had been on the air since she was a kid. She’d never actually seen it, not all the way through. But she’d gotten used to hearing the noisy show in the background when her dad used to watch it, much like she was hearing it now.

Tuning out the sound, she studied the stranger again. Because she was tempted to skim his cheek and feel the warmth of his skin, she kept her hands on her lap. She even curled her fingers to keep them still. Being this close to him while he slept wasn’t a good idea. She should go home, but she stayed for as long as the hospital would allow, already anxious to return the following day.

In the morning, Jenna had breakfast with her sister in the main house, surrounded by retro-style gingham accents in the kitchen. Unfortunately it was too early to head over to the hospital. With the exception of spouses and significant others, visiting hours were limited.

She’d barely slept last night, wondering if the stranger would recoup his memory today.

She glanced across the table at Donna, but her sister didn’t look up. She was busy texting, in between sips of fresh-brewed coffee and bites of a Spanish omelet, courtesy of the soon-to-retire cook.

Jenna continued to study Donna. They’d always been different from each other. Jenna, a certified horseback riding instructor, loved everything country, and Donna, a magazine writer turned marketer, loved everything city. As soon as the B and B was off the ground, Donna would be returning to New York, where she lived and worked. Jenna, on the other hand, planned to stay at the ranch and help run the B and B with Tammy.

Donna finally glanced up. “What?” she said.

“Nothing.”

“Then why were you staring at me?”

“I was just thinking about how opposite we are.”

“We’re siblings, not clones.”

“Yes, but you’d think that we would have more in common. Or look more alike or whatever.” Although both were blonde, Donna was a year older, three inches taller and wildly curvy. She had the figure of a 1940s pinup, while Jenna was small and lean.

Donna shrugged and went back to texting, and Jenna considered how distant their relationship was. Her sister had trouble connecting with people on an emotional level, but Jenna could hardly blame her. They’d been raised in a go-your-own-way environment.

Tammy entered the room, and Jenna immediately said, “Hi.”

“Hello, yourself.” Their cousin sat down and greeted Donna, as well. Then she turned back to Jenna and said, “Mike left a couple of hours ago to check on our patient.”

Her stomach fluttered. “He did? Any word?”

“From Mike? No. But I’m sure he’ll call when he can.”

Donna quit texting. “What patient? Who’s sick?”

Jenna answered, “I found a man yesterday. He was wandering around on the road with a concussion.” She went on to explain the details. “Hopefully he’ll be better today.”

“Wow,” Donna said. “Can you imagine losing your memory?”

No, but Jenna wouldn’t mind forgetting about the mess their dad had made of things. But he’d been notorious for disappointing her, even when she was a child. He’d never been there when she needed him. He’d been too busy with his corporate job. He rarely attended parent-teacher conferences or planned birthday parties or took his daughters to the movies or engaged in the types of activities that would have made them seem more like a family.

She glanced at Donna. Funny thing about her sister. Before the skeleton in Dad’s closet had surfaced, Donna used to idolize him. He’d been her hero, the person she often emulated, particularly with her workaholic, career-is-king habits. Not that Donna would ever admit how deeply he influenced her. But Jenna was keenly aware of it.

Clearing the Dad-clutter from her mind, Jenna said to Tammy, “I was planning on going to the hospital later, but maybe I should wait for Mike to call.”

“It might take him a while to check in,” her cousin replied. “He has a lot of rounds to make. Why don’t you head over to the hospital now and look in on the man? I can tell you’re still worried about him.”

“I can’t see him until noon.”

“Says who?”

“The hospital visiting hours.”

Tammy waved away the rules. “They probably won’t notice if you slip in a little early.”

“I think it would be better if I went at noon.” She wasn’t comfortable taking liberties. She preferred to play by the book.

Tammy didn’t push her out of her comfort zone and neither did Donna. They allowed her to be her regimented self.

When the time rolled around for her to get ready, she donned classic Western wear: a broomstick skirt, a feminine blouse and a nice pair of boots. She freshened up her face and fluffed her hair, too. Not that it should matter what the stranger thought of her appearance. If he was better today, this would probably be the last time she saw him.

She arrived at the hospital at twelve o’clock sharp and went to the nurses’ station, where she inquired about the patient’s condition. They informed her that he was awake and coherent, and once everything was in order, Dr. Sanchez would be releasing him.

So, he was better.

She thanked them for the information and continued down the hall. A moment later, she stalled. She was nervous about conversing with him.

Pushing past the trepidation, she proceeded. She entered his room and passed the TV-watching patient. Today he was engaged in a sitcom from the seventies. He didn’t glance her way, and she left him alone, too.

She moved forward and came face-to-face with the stranger. He was sitting up in bed. His gaze zeroed in on hers, and her heart went bumpy.

“Good morning,” she said, keeping a calm voice.

“You’re the girl from yesterday.”

“Yes.”

“The blonde I thought I was dating. I’m sorry about that.”

Dang. Did he have to go and mention it? “It’s okay. You were out of it.”

He nodded, and she took the seat next to his bed, the same spot where she’d watched him sleep. “You look healthier.” Still a bit worn-out, she thought, but an improvement nonetheless. “I heard that Doc will be releasing you.”

“Yes, but I’m supposed to take it easy.”

“You can’t go kicking up your heels just yet?”

“No. Not yet.” He smiled a little.

It was sinfully crooked. The bump-bump in her chest returned. “I’m Jenna, by the way. Jenna Byrd.”

“Thank you for what you did. Jenna,” he added softly.

The bumping intensified. “I’m glad I was there to help.” She scooted to the edge of her chair. “So, what’s your name?”

He furrowed his dark brows. “I don’t know. I still can’t remember anything, aside from you bringing me to your ranch and coming here.”

She gaped at him. “Your memory hasn’t recovered? Then why is Doc releasing you?”

“Because I’m not dizzy or confused, and my vital signs are good. I have what’s called retrograde amnesia, but they can’t keep me in the hospital for that. Besides, my memories are supposed to return. It’s just a matter of when.”

She didn’t know what to say. He was still as much of a stranger as he was before.

He said, “The sheriff was here earlier. He took a report. He took my fingerprints, too.” He held up his hands and gazed at them. “If I’m in the system, they’ll be able to identify me that way.”

He might have a criminal record? That wasn’t a comforting thought. “Do you think you’re in the system?”

“I don’t know.” He lowered his hands. “But the sheriff doesn’t want Dr. Sanchez to release me until the results are in. So we’re waiting to hear. I guess the police want to be sure that there isn’t a warrant out for my arrest before they put me back on the streets.”

“Do you mind if I wait until you hear something?”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Because she still felt responsible for him. Or was it because she was so doggone attracted to him? That wasn’t a comforting thought, either. Confused and covering her tracks she said, “I’m interested in knowing who you are.” And hoping that he was an upstanding guy.

“At the moment, I’m no one.”

“That’s not true. Everyone is someone.”

He glanced away. Obviously her comment hadn’t made a dent in his amnesiac armor. She wanted to reassure him, but how could she, especially since he might be wanted by the police?

Just then, double sets of footsteps sounded, and Jenna turned around in her chair. The stranger shifted in the direction of the approaching people, too.

It was Doc, making a crisp-white presentation in his lab coat, and next to him was a tall, stocky lawman.

As the air grew thick with anticipation, the stranger shot Jenna a quick glance.

Trapping her in the moment they’d been waiting for.

Chapter Two

Amid the silence, Doc caught Jenna’s attention. She expected him to ask her to leave, but he merely nodded an acknowledgment. Maybe it was going to be okay. Maybe there was nothing to be concerned about.

The lawman said to the patient, “I’m Deputy Tobbs. The sheriff assigned your case to me.”

“Do I have a record?” the stranger asked bluntly.

The deputy shifted his weight. “No, you don’t. Your fingerprints aren’t on file, but I’m going to investigate further. I’ll do my best to uncover your identity and discover what happened to you. I’ll be questioning everyone in the area, in case you work around here or were visiting someone.”

“Someone who hasn’t noticed that I’m gone?”

“It could have been a surprise visit and you never made it to your destination. It could have been a number of things. I’m inclined to think that you were assaulted and robbed, possibly carjacked, which would account for you wandering around on foot. But we’ll have to wait and see what turns up.”

The stranger tugged a hand through his hair, stopping short of his injury. “It could be worse, I guess.” He addressed Doc. “Are you going to sign my release papers now?”

“Yes, but first we need to figure out where you’re going to go.”

The stranger replied, “Is there a homeless shelter in the area?”

The deputy answered the question. “There’s one in the next county, about thirty miles from here.”

“Then that will have to do, if they’ll take me.”

“I can give them a call,” the deputy said.

No way, Jenna thought. She wasn’t going to let him go off like that. She would worry about him. Still, did she have a right to intervene? Regardless, she couldn’t seem to hold back.

She said to the stranger, “You can stay at the Flying B until you regain your memory or until Deputy Tobbs finds out who you are. We’re turning the ranch into a B and B, and we have guest rooms and cabins on the property.”

“I can’t stay there.”

Jenna persisted, especially now that she’d made up her mind about saving him, or whatever it was she was trying to do. “Why not?”

“I just can’t. I shouldn’t.”

“Sure you can,” Doc said, supporting her idea. “It would be a good place for you to recover.”

“I don’t know.”

Jenna frowned. “What’s not to know? Just say yes.”

He frowned, too. “Are you always this insistent?”

Was she? “Sometimes.” Considering from the time that she and Donna were kids, the one lesson their father had always taught was to go after what they wanted. “But Doc agrees with me, so you’re outnumbered.”

“Consider it part of your treatment,” Doc said. “I could keep a better eye on you, and being surrounded by fresh air would be a heck of a lot nicer than being holed in a homeless shelter.”

The deputy interjected. “Sounds like you’ve got it worked out.”

“We do,” Jenna assured him.

“Then I’m going to take my leave.” He placed his card on the rolling stand beside the bed. “Call me if you have any questions,” he told the man with amnesia. “And if I need to reach you, I’ll stop by the Flying B.” The deputy turned to Jenna. “You should introduce him to everyone at the ranch. It’s possible that someone there will recognize him.”

“I will, just as soon as he’s feeling up to it.”

He turned back to the patient. “You take care.”

“Thank you,” came the polite reply.

Deputy Tobbs said goodbye to everyone and left the room, a hush forming in his absence. Jenna wondered if Doc was going to depart, too. But he stayed quietly put.

She said to the stranger, “You’re going to need another name, other than John Doe.”

His dark gaze caught hers. “Some people have that name for real.”

“I know. But it’s doubtful that you do.”

“Then you can pick one.”

“You want me to name you?”

“Somebody has to.”

Jenna glanced at Doc. He stood off to the side, clutching a clipboard that probably contained “John Doe’s” charts. Anxious, she crossed her arms over her chest. Doc’s silent observation created a fishbowl-type effect. But he had a right to analyze his patient’s reactions.

Was he analyzing her, too?

She’d been bothered by the John Doe reference from the beginning, but now that she’d been given the responsibility of changing it, she felt an enormous amount of pressure.

Could Doc tell how nervous she was?

She asked the stranger, “Are you sure you don’t want to come up with something yourself?”

“I’m positive.”

He sounded as if it didn’t matter, that with or without a makeshift name, he still considered himself no one.

Reminding her of how lost he truly was.

As he waited for the outcome, he thought about how surreal all of this was. He felt like a ketchup jar someone had banged upside the counter, with memories locked inside that wouldn’t come out.

Emptiness. Nothingness.

His only lifeline was the pretty blonde beside his bed and the doctor watching the scene unfold.

“What do you think of J.D.?” she asked.

“The initials for John Doe?”

She nodded. “I always thought that using initials in place of a name was sexy.”

He started. Was she serious? “Sexy?”

She blushed, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Intrigued, he tilted his head. She’d gone from being aggressive to downright shy. “How did you mean it?”

“That it’s mysterious.”

“Then I guess it fits.” Everything was a mystery, right down to his confusion about dating her. Was she the type he would’ve dated in the past? Or did he even have a type?

“So we can start calling you J.D. now?” she asked, obviously double-checking.

He nodded.

“And you’re going to stay at the Flying B?”

He nodded again, still feeling reluctant about being her houseguest or cabin guest or whatever. As far as he was concerned, a homeless shelter would have sufficed.

She said, “When I first saw you, I assumed that you were a cowboy, maybe an employee of a neighboring ranch. I hadn’t considered a carjacking, but I wondered if you might be a hitchhiker. I’m glad the deputy is going to talk to everyone in the area about you. Then we’ll know for sure.” She glanced at his clothes, which were hanging nearby. “You were certainly dressed like a local cowboy, except that you didn’t have a hat. But I figured that you’d lost it somewhere.”

He followed her line of sight. The T-shirt, jeans and worn-out boots he’d been wearing were as unfamiliar as the day he’d been born. “I don’t have a recollection of doing ranch work.”

“You don’t have a recollection of anything,” she reminded him.

“I know, but wouldn’t I have a feeling of being connected to ranching? Wouldn’t it be ingrained in me if that’s what I did for a living?” He turned to the expert. “What do you think, Dr. Sanchez?”

“I think it’s too soon to be concerned about that. You just need to rest and let your feelings fall into place when they’re meant to.” He smiled. “I also think you should start calling me Doc.”

“Okay, Doc.” He preferred less formality, too, and already he’d gotten used to hearing Jenna say it. A moment later, he shifted his gaze back to his unfamiliar clothes.

Jenna said, “You put some miles on those boots.”

“I must have thought they were comfortable.” He noticed that the toes were starting to turn up. “I guess I’m going to find out if I still like wearing them.”

“Yes, J.D., you are,” Doc said, using his new name. “In fact, you can get dressed now, if you want. I can send a nurse in if you need help.”

“No, I can handle it.”

“All right. Then I’ll go get your papers ready, and Jenna can step out of the room and come back when you’re done.”

J.D. got a highly inappropriate urge, wishing that he could ask her to stay and help him get dressed. He even imagined her hand on his zipper.

Hell and damnation.

He should have insisted on going to a shelter. Clearly, being around Jenna wasn’t a good idea.

She and the doctor left, closing the curtain behind them. J.D. got out of bed and walked over to the closet, still thinking about Jenna.

He cursed quietly under his breath, stripped off the hospital gown and put on his Western wear. He grappled with his belt. He fought the boots, too. They felt odd at first, but he got used to them soon enough.

Curious to look at himself in the mirror, he went into the bathroom. He didn’t recognize his reflection, with him wearing the clothes. He was still a nowhere man.

Luckily, the hospital had provided a few necessities, like a comb, toothpaste and a toothbrush. Still standing in front of the mirror, he combed his hair straight back, but it fell forward naturally, so he let it be. They hadn’t provided a razor, so he had no choice but to leave the beard stubble. It was starting to itch and he wanted it gone. Or maybe it was the image it created that he didn’t like. It made him look as haunted as he felt, like an Old West outlaw.

J.D. the Kid? No. He wasn’t a kid. He figured himself for early thirties. Or that was how he appeared. But he could be mistaken.

Blowing out a breath, he returned to his room and opened the curtain, letting Jenna know that she could come back.

She did, about five minutes later, bringing two cups of coffee with her.

“It’s from the vending machine,” she said. “But it’s pretty good. I had some last night when I was waiting for your test results.” She handed him a cup. “It has cream and sugar. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s fine. Thanks. I don’t have a preference, not that I’m aware of, anyway.” He sat on the edge of the bed, offering her the chair. “You’ve been putting in a lot of time at this place, hanging out for a man you barely know.”

“I’m starting to get to know you.” She smiled. “You obviously like coffee.”

“So it seems.” He drank it right down. “I had orange juice with breakfast, but this hits the spot.”

“We have gourmet coffeemakers in the guest cabins. You can brew yourself a fancy cup of Joe tomorrow morning.”

“That sounds good, but maybe I shouldn’t stay there. You don’t need the burden of having a guy like me around.”

“You can’t back out. You already agreed. Doctor’s orders, remember?”

Yes, but his recovery didn’t include the stirrings she incited. Even now, he wanted to see her blush again. He liked the shy side of her.

“When this is over, I’ll repay you for your hospitality,” he said.

“Just get better, okay? That will be payment enough.”

“You’re a nice girl, Jenna.”

“And you seem like a nice man.”

“You thought I was drunk off my butt when you saw me stumbling around. I remember you telling me that I had too much to drink.”

“I retracted that when I saw that your head was bleeding. How is your head, by the way?”

“Still hurts a little.”

“How about your feet?”

He squinted. “My feet aren’t injured.”

“I was talking about your boots. How do they feel?”

Oh, yeah. The boots. He glanced down at the scuffed leather. “Fine.” He motioned to hers. “You’ve got yourself a fancy pair.”

“These are my dressy ones. Sometimes I go dancing in them, too.”

“I have no idea if I know how to dance.”

“You can try the two-step and see.”

“Right now?” He teased her. “Up and down the hospital corridor?”

She laughed. “Later, smarty, when you’re up to par.”

Were they flirting? It sure as heck seemed as if they were. But it didn’t last long because he didn’t let it.

He knew better than to start something that he was in no position to finish. She seemed to know it, too. She turned off the charm at the same instant he did.

Tempering what was happening between them.

As a bright and bouncy nurse wheeled J.D. out to Jenna’s truck, he said, “I’d rather walk.”

“It’s hospital policy,” the chipper lady said. “Everyone leaves in a wheelchair.”

He made a face, and Jenna smiled to herself. Machismo. He certainly behaved like a cowboy.

She stopped smiling. She was actually taking this man home with her, and she knew darn well that he was as attracted to her as she was to him.

But they weren’t going to act on it. They were both cautious enough not to let it take over. So it would be fine, she assured herself. He would be a recuperating guest, a patient of Doc’s, and nothing more.

She turned on the radio, and they listened to music instead of talking.

Finally, when they were on the private road leading to the ranch, he glanced over at her and said, “Déjà vu,” making a joke about repeating his car-ride experience from yesterday.

She tried to make light of it, too. “Your first encounter with it.”

“That I’m able to remember. I probably had déjà vu in my old life.”

His old life. That made it sound as if he’d become someone new. She supposed that, at least for now, he was a different person. But since she didn’t know who he was before, she couldn’t compare the old with the new.

“I wonder if I should put you in the dream cabin.”

“The cabins have names? Is that part of the B and B thing?”

“No. The dream cabin is what everyone on the ranch has been calling it, for years, amongst themselves. So we call it that, too. It has an old feather bed that used to belong to our great-grandmother. She had the gift of second sight, and her visions came in the form of dreams while she was sleeping in it.”

“Interesting family history.”

“The bed is magical.”

He openly disagreed. “Your great-granny having visions in the bed doesn’t make it magical.”

“Other people have had vision-type dreams while sleeping in it, too. Tammy had dreams about Doc. Then later, he had a life-altering dream about her, and he wasn’t even at the cabin when it happened to him. But we figured that her dreams triggered his, so the feather bed was still part of it.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t put me in that cabin.”

“Why? Don’t you want to have a dream that might come true?”

“It just seems like something that should stay within your family.”

“Doc wasn’t in our family until he and Tammy got engaged.”

“I’m not going to get engaged to anyone.”

Their discussion was barreling down an uncomfortable path. She struggled to rein it back in. “I wasn’t insinuating that you were.”

“I don’t understand the point of me sleeping in the bed.”

“You might have a dream that will help you regain your memory.”

“I can’t imagine that.”

She parked in front of the main house. “Anything is possible. Wait here and I’ll get the key to the cabin.” She went inside, wondering why he wasn’t more interested in the bed. Didn’t he want to regain his memory?

She returned with the key, and he sat in the passenger seat, looking tired and confused.

He said, “I don’t mean to offend you, Jenna, but I don’t know if I believe in magic.”

Ah, so that was it. He was a skeptic. “You just need to recover, J.D. and let the rest of it happen naturally.”

“Magic isn’t natural.”

“I didn’t used to think so, either. But I’ve become open-minded about it since Tammy and Doc had their dreams.”

He didn’t respond, but it was just as well. She didn’t want to discuss the details of Doc and Tammy’s romance with him.

She took him to the cabin. They went inside, and she showed him around.

“This place was locked up for a long time,” she said. “But we aired it out and put some modern appliances in it.”

“Like the gourmet coffeemaker?”

She nodded. “Eventually we’re going to use it as one of the rental cabins. We think people will be fascinated by the magic associated with the bed. Of course we can’t guarantee that they’ll dream while they’re here.”

“You can’t make that guarantee for me, either.”

“No, but I think it’s worth a shot.”

They entered the bedroom, and since the bed had already been presented as a focal point, it stood out like a sore thumb, even though it had been designed to look soft and inviting. The quilt was a soft chocolate-brown, with a sheepskin throw draped across it.

He ran his hand across the sheepskin. “Have you ever slept here?”

A sinful chill raced up her spine. Suddenly she was imagining sleeping there with him. “No.”

“If you believe in the bed’s magic, why haven’t you tried it yourself?”

“There’s nothing I need to dream about. Besides, there’s another story about someone who stayed here that’s been bothering me.”

He frowned. “Who?

Jenna winced. She should have kept her mouth shut. “Someone named Savannah Jeffries. She was my uncle’s girlfriend when they were younger.” She was also the woman who’d had a scandalous tryst with Jenna’s father, but she wasn’t about to mention that part.

“Did she dream while she was here?”

“I don’t know. Tammy accidentally discovered a secret Savannah was keeping, though, and now my family has been talking about hiring a P.I. to search for her.”

“Why? Did she go missing?” He wrinkled his forehead. “Was there foul play involved?”

“No. She left town on her own. When Tammy first discovered her secret, all of us girls—Tammy, my sister Donna and I—tried to find out things about her on the internet, but nothing turned up.”

“Sounds like you want to find her.”

“I’m curious about her, but I’d just as soon let sleeping dogs lie.” She purposely changed the subject. She wasn’t prepared to discuss Savannah’s secret or the possible ramifications of it. “Doc will have my hide if I don’t let you rest, so I’m going to get going. But I’ll come back and bring you something to eat. I’ll bring some extra groceries and stock the fridge for future meals, too. Oh, and I’ll see if I can drum up some clothes that will fit you.” She motioned to his rugged ensemble. “You’re going to need more than one shirt and one pair of jeans.”

“You don’t have to fuss over me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You’re going above and beyond.”

“I want you to get well.” She left her cell-phone number on the desk. “Call if you need anything.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Probably a couple of hours. You should try to nap while I’m gone.” She walked to the door and glanced over her shoulder at him.

He stood beside the feather bed, looking like a man in need of magic.

Chapter Three

After Jenna left, J.D. didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t want to take a nap, even if he was supposed to be resting. He glanced around the room, then eyed the landline phone.

Already he felt like calling Jenna and telling her that he needed something. But what?

Companionship, he thought. He was lonely as hell.

He sat on the bed, then went ahead and reclined on it. Damn. The feather mattress was heavenly.

J.D. considered his whereabouts. He was hellishly lonely on a heavenly bed? Talk about an odd combination.

The amnesia was odd, too. He couldn’t remember anything about himself, but he knew what year it was, who was president, what the world at large was like.

He closed his eyes, and unable to resist the bed, he dozed off.

He awakened hours later, the red-digit clock glaring at him. He hadn’t dreamed. His subconscious hadn’t created any thoughts or images.

He got up and waited for Jenna to return.

She arrived with a light knock at the door. He answered her summons eagerly.

Her hands were filled with grocery bags.

“I’ll take those.” He lifted the bags and carried them to the kitchen.

She went out to her truck and came back with containers of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

“I’m not much of a cook,” she said. “This came from the diner in town. I picked it up when I got the groceries.”

“I hope you’re going to join me. It looks like there’s plenty for both of us.”

“Sure. I’ll eat with you.” She walked into the dining room to set the table.

After the plates and silverware were in place, she returned to her truck for the rest of the stuff she’d promised. He could see her from his vantage point in the kitchen.

Upon reentering the house, she called out to him. “The clothes belong to a ranch hand who, I think, is about your size. I’ll put them on the sofa for you. There’s a nice little satchel with toiletries, too. Donna had them made up for the guest rooms and cabins. She’s handling the marketing end of the B and B. She’s been redecorating, too.”

Interested in talking to her, he crammed the grocery bags in the fridge and met her in the dining room.

“What do you do, Jenna?”

“I’m a horseback riding instructor. It was my profession before I came to the Flying B. I’ve always been a country girl, even when I lived in the city. I grew up in Houston.”

“I assumed you grew up here.”

“No. Tammy, Donna and I inherited the ranch from our grandfather, and Tammy’s brothers inherited some undeveloped land on the west side of the property. All of us were rewarded money, too, with stipulations of how it’s to be used. The girls are supposed to keep the ranch going, which we decided includes the inception of the B and B. And the boys are supposed to take advantage of the mineral rights that go with the land, so they’ll be commissioning a survey. Our grandfather left us a portion of his legacy, but we barely got to know him before he passed away. Our families were estranged from him and each other.”

They sat down to eat. Curious, he asked, “Who was estranged, exactly?”

“Our dads. They’re twin brothers. They hadn’t spoken to each other or to Grandpa since…”

She didn’t finish her statement, and he wondered if the rift had something to do with Savannah Jeffries and why she’d left town.

He said, “Who knows who my family is or if I even have one.”

“Everyone comes from somewhere.”

“Yes, but I forgot who they were. I mean, how important can they be?”

“You have a head injury. That’s not your fault.”

He popped open a soda can. “It still feels personal.”

“Your life will be back on track before you know it.”

Would it? At this point, he couldn’t see past his amnesia. He couldn’t imagine who he was. “I fell asleep while you were gone.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Did you dream?”

“No.”

She seemed disappointed. “Maybe you will tonight.”

He didn’t reply.

A short time later, they finished their meals and went into the living room. They sat on the sofa, and he checked out the clothes, which consisted of a handful of shirts and a couple of pairs of Wrangler jeans. He noticed a package of unopened boxer shorts, too. “Where did these come from?”

“I bought those at the emporium in town. I took a chance that you wore that type. I took a chance on the size, too.” She paused, a sweetly shy expression on her face. “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me.” She quickly added, “I got you socks, too. Did you see those?”

“Yes, thank you.” But buying him socks wasn’t nearly as intimate as buying him boxers. “I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.”

“I borrowed the clothes before I went into town, and then, while I was shopping for groceries, it hit me that you might need those other things, so I made a quick trip to the emporium.”

“I feel badly that you’ve been spending money on me.”

“It wasn’t that much.”

He begged to differ. He knew how expensive it was to live these days. He returned his attention to the clothes, glad they hadn’t cost her anything. “These should fit. What’s the ranch hand’s name who loaned them to me?”

“Caleb Granger. He isn’t aware of the loan, though. He’s out of town on a personal matter, but he left some of his things behind.”

“You borrowed them without his consent?”

“I didn’t. The foreman did. When I mentioned that I needed clothes for someone who was about the same size as Caleb, he went into Caleb’s cabin and got them for me. I never would’ve done that. I don’t know Caleb very well.”

“You noticed how he was built.”

“He’s tall and muscular, like you. Women notice those sorts of things.”

Curious about this Caleb character and the comparison she’d just made, he asked, “Are you interested in getting to know him better?”

“Oh, my goodness, no. The last I checked, he had eyes for my sister. But I don’t think she’s aware of his interest in her, and now that he’s out of town, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“It might when he gets back.”

“For him, maybe. But for her? I doubt it. I can’t see Donna dating a ranch hand. She’s Ms. New York. Not that I have a right to criticize her.”

“Why? Are you a fussy dater, too? Are you as picky about your men as your sister is about hers?”

She glanced away and started fidgeting. He’d obviously struck a chord. He should have left it alone, but he was too damned curious to drop it.

“Come on, Jenna. Fess up.”

“There’s nothing to fess.”

He frowned, suddenly imagining her in a bad relationship. “Did someone hurt you? Did you get your heart broken?”

“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that.”

He felt immediately better. She’d been so kind to him, he didn’t want to envision someone being unkind to her. “Then what is it?”

“I guess it won’t matter if I tell you. But you’re probably going to think it’s dumb.” She blew out a breath and continued, “I made a list of the qualities I want in a man, and I’m following it to the letter.”

Well, then. That certainly wasn’t what he expected. “I hope you find what you want.”

“Me, too.”

In the next curious instant, he wondered what sorts of qualities she was after. “Maybe you can show me the list sometime.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Do you have sexual things on it?”

She straightened her spine, looking like a sweet little prude. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”

“Hey, you’re the one who gave me a sexy name, remember?”

“I already explained that I didn’t mean that literally.”

“I know.” He shot her a smile. “I was just teasing you.”

“You have a wicked sense of humor.”

He wondered if a sense of humor was on her list, but decided not to push the issue or tease her anymore about it.

Still, he couldn’t get the list out of his mind. Sooner or later, he would probably ask her about it again.

He set Caleb’s clothes aside and picked up the toiletry satchel. “Is there a shaving kit in here?”

“Truthfully, I’ve never taken inventory of what Donna puts in those, but she’s a really thorough person, so I’m betting there is. I grabbed that from the supply room. I didn’t even tell her that I was taking it.”

“Let’s see how thorough she is, shall we?”

“Sure. Let’s see.”

He opened the bag and started removing the items, placing them on the coffee table and reciting them, one by one. “Soap. Shampoo. Conditioner. Lotion. Toothpaste and mouthwash. Ah here we go. Shaving cream and disposable razors.”

“Donna came through.”

“Yes, she did.” He reached into the satchel again. “There’s a small box of some kind. It’s wedged at the bottom.” He dug it out of the bag and as soon as he held it up, he wanted to shove it back inside.

Condoms.

He looked at Jenna and she stared back at him. He couldn’t think of a thing to say.

And apparently neither could she.

Jenna wanted to strangle herself for not checking out the items ahead of time. She wanted to strangle Donna, too, for being far more thorough than necessary.

Before the silence swallowed them alive, she managed a lame comment. “I guess my sister really did think of everything.”

“She sure did.” He seemed relieved that Jenna had broken the ice. He even smiled.

She was relieved that the moment had passed, too, but she struggled to summon a smile. Her heart was still beating with a quick cadence.

He put the condoms next to the razors. “Are you close?”

“What?”

“You and your sister?”

Funny he should ask. “No. I was just mentioning that to her this morning. How unalike we are. How we don’t communicate all that well to each other.”

“Did you discuss why?”

“No, but it’s because of our family dynamics when we were growing up. Our parents got divorced when we were little, and we lived with our mom. Then she died when I was eight and Donna was nine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was ovarian cancer. I still miss her—Mom and I were close. Donna never bonded with her, or anyone, for that matter. But I think Donna wished she’d been closer to Mom. Sometimes, after Mom died, I used to catch her gazing at Mom’s pictures in the most horribly sad way, but then Donna would look away, as if she didn’t want me to know how badly she was hurting.”

“What happened to you and Donna after your mom passed away?”

“We went to live with our dad. But he worked a lot, and we learned to fend for ourselves. I always wondered about my grandfather and his ranch. Secretly I wanted to meet him. But I knew Dad was estranged from his family, so I didn’t talk to him about it. Dad isn’t easy to talk to.”

“You are.”

She felt her cheeks go warm. “Really?”

“I’d tell you about myself if I knew who I was.”

“The way I’m blabbing? Somehow, I doubt that.”

“You’re not blabbing. I asked you about your family and you’re answering my questions.”

In way too much detail, she thought. But it felt good to get some of it off her chest. “The American dream was lost on my family.”

“How common is that, really? How many people get to live that kind of life?”

“I don’t know. But someday I want to create a family of my own, one that will be bonded and true to each other.”

“Husband, kids, picket fence?”

She nodded. “I want a man who shares my love of the country. I feel blessed that I inherited part of this ranch. It’s everything to me now, and I want it to be everything to my future husband.”

“That stands to reason.” He paused. “So, what was your grandfather like?”

“He went by the name of Tex. He was an ornery old guy, but charming, too. I regret not having the opportunity to know him better, but I’m grateful that he welcomed me into his life when he did.” She thought about everything that had transpired recently. “Doc was his private physician. That’s how he and Tammy met.”

“And then they had dreams about each other that came true?” He glanced toward the bedroom. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were those dreams?”

She’d avoided mentioning them earlier, but she supposed it didn’t really matter since Doc and Tammy spoke openly about their experiences. “Tammy dreamed that she and Doc had a romantic evening in this cabin before it actually happened.”

Clearly, J.D. wasn’t impressed. “That’s not very groundbreaking.”

“Tammy worked hard to catch Doc’s eye. In fact, I helped her with a makeover. She was a tomboy for most of her life and didn’t know how to doll herself up.”

“Doc doesn’t seem like he’s from around here.”

“He isn’t. He’s originally from Philadelphia, and he came here to pay a debt to the man who put him through medical school, and that debt involved caring for our grandfather.” She shifted on the sofa. “Doc was planning on leaving afterward and going back to his life in the city, then he fell in love with Tammy. He dreamed that they were happily married with three kids.”

He frowned. “That’s not a magic dream. They’re not even married yet, and there aren’t any kids.”

“They’re going to be married, and the kids will come later. Besides, they both dreamed about the same little dark-haired girl.”

“Really?” He was obviously surprised.

“Yes, and someday that little girl is going to be born to them.” Jenna was certain of it.

J.D. didn’t respond, but she was glad that they’d had this discussion. Offering him a break, she said, “You should probably rest again.”

“I won’t be able to take another nap.”

“You can watch TV.”

“I don’t like TV.”

“So you do know something about yourself.”

“I’m only saying that because when I turned on the TV in the hospital, it bored me.”

“Then it probably bored you before you got amnesia, too.”

“I don’t know, but the man next to me sure liked to watch it.”

“Yes, he did. I didn’t care for his taste in shows.” Especially the game show that reeked of her childhood. Jenna had always been sensitive about her youth, but even more so now that she was dealing with the Savannah Jeffries issue and her dad’s part in it.

“What do you watch?” J.D. asked.

She pulled herself back into the conversation. “The news mostly. I like Animal Planet, too. Sometimes I watch romantic comedies.”

“Is that what’s called chick flicks?”

She nodded.

He got up and stood beside the living-room window. “So, how long have you had that list of yours?”

Dang. He was back to that. “Awhile.”

“How long is awhile?”

“Since I was twenty-five, and I’m thirty now.”

“Five years? That is awhile. Have you been refining it?”

“I added a few things about the ranch since I came here.”

“About your future husband loving this place?”

“Yes.” Restless, she reached for the clothes she’d loaned him. “But the list is mostly the same as it was five years ago. I knew what qualities I wanted in a man then, and I still want him to have those same qualities now.”

“I couldn’t begin to make a list. I don’t know what I expect out of myself, let alone someone else.”

“You’ll know all about yourself once your memory comes back.”

“I still can’t imagine making a list.”

“Then you’re probably not a type-A personality like I am.”

“I suppose not.” He motioned to the clothes. “Is that part of your type-A nature?”

She glanced down. Apparently she’d been folding and refolding the same pair of jeans. “I’m just …”

“What?”

Nervous, she thought. But she said, “I’m just trying to help you get organized.” She quickly folded each article of clothing, then went after the toiletries, dropping them back into the bag. She made sure the condoms went first, keeping them out of sight and out of mind. “I’ll put all of this away for you.”

“Sure. Okay. Thanks.” He smiled a little. “I was going to leave everything there until I needed it.”

So much for blocking the condoms from her mind. He wouldn’t need those while he was staying at the Flying B, would he? Not unless he found a local girl to mess around with once he started feeling better.

Jenna frowned and headed for the bedroom.

He tagged along. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You seem flustered. If I’m too much work for you, just leave that stuff, Jenna. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not flustered.” She just didn’t like envisioning him with another woman.

As opposed to him being with her? She reprimanded herself. She shouldn’t be entertaining those sorts of thoughts. J.D. could have sex with whoever met his fancy.

Trouble was, he met the physical requirements on her list. Of course she knew that being sexually attracted to someone wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship. Every piece of the puzzle had to fit.

While she put his borrowed clothes in the dresser, he sat on the edge of the bed.

“You should stay in this cabin after I’m gone,” he said.

“Why?”

“So you can sleep here.” He patted the bed.

Her pulse went haywire. “I already told you there’s nothing I need to dream about.”

“I was talking about the comfort factor.”

“I have a comfortable bed in my room.”

“Do you have an old feather mattress?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll bet it doesn’t compare. I sank right into this bed. It’s pretty darn amazing.”

She glanced away. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s interesting that you don’t think you have anything to dream about.”

She turned to look at him again. “What do you mean?”

“Seems to me that you’d want to dream about the man you’re hoping to marry.”

“I don’t need to see him in a dream. I’ll know who he is when I meet him in person.”

“You’ll recognize him from the list? That must be some list.”

“It is to me. But most people probably wouldn’t think much of it.”

“Where do you keep it?”

“I have a file on my computer. But I keep a copy in my purse, too.”

“You carry it around?” He flashed his lopsided grin. “That’s over the top.”

His cavalier attitude annoyed her. “Keeping it close at hand helps me to stay focused.”

“So you can checkmark it when you’re on a date?” His grin got even more crooked. “I feel sorry for the poor saps who take you out, having to live up to whatever your expectations are.”

“Your sense of humor is wearing thin, J.D.”

“Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“How would you know if you’ve ever met anyone like me?”

“I wouldn’t, I guess. But logic tells me that you’re one of a kind.”

“You think I’m weird.” She tromped into the bathroom to put his toiletries away.

Soon she felt his presence behind her. She sensed that he was looming in the doorway, watching her. She ignored him. The condoms were the last items she put away. She placed them in the cabinet under the sink, stood up and turned in his direction.

He said, “I don’t think you’re weird. I think you’re sweet and beautiful and unique.”

He was looking at her with tenderness in his eyes, and now she longed to reach out and hold him. “Thank you. That was a nice thing to say.”

“I meant every word.”

The bathroom was small already, and now the walls were closing in.

“I should get going,” she said.

“You don’t have to leave yet.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late.”

“But I want you to stay.” He didn’t move away from the doorway, trapping her where she was.

J.D. scrambled for an excuse to keep her there. “I need you to help me put the groceries away.”

“You already put them away.”

“I just put the bags in the fridge. I didn’t unload them.”

“Oh, my goodness. Really? There was frozen food in those. And canned goods and …” She shook her head. “You should have unpacked them.”

“So help me do it now.”

She made a tsk-tsk sound. “Who doesn’t look in a grocery bag to see what’s in it?”

He smiled. “A guy recovering from a concussion?”

She returned his smile, and he realized he’d just charmed her. It made him feel good inside, but a bit anxious, too. He shouldn’t be asking her to spend more time with him.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s put the food away properly.”

He cleared the doorway, allowing her to pass by him. As her body breezed by his, he got a zipper-tugging sensation. He took a rough breath and followed her to the kitchen. While he was walking behind her, he checked her out. She was lean and gently toned. Had he always been partial to small-framed girls?

She made a beeline for the fridge and removed the bags. Together, they unloaded them. She’d gotten him a variety of stuff to choose from: frozen pizza, fresh fruit, ready-made salads, boxed macaroni and cheese, sandwich fixings, canned chili, soup and crackers, pudding cups, cereal and milk.

Meals designed for a bachelor, he thought. “Thank you again for everything you’ve been doing for me. I really do intend to repay you.”

“All I want is for you to get better,” she said, repeating what she’d told him earlier. “That will be payment enough.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get anything that requires cooking skills. I don’t think I’d be very good in that regard.”

“We have that in common.”

He nodded. She’d already mentioned that she wasn’t much of a cook.

After they completed their task, he said, “Will you sit outside with me before you go?” He was still looking for excuses to keep her there, and since the cabin was equipped with a quaint little porch, it provided a cozy atmosphere. “We can have some pudding.”

She accepted the invitation, and they settled into mismatched chairs. The air was rife with something sweet. Honeysuckle, maybe. Foliage grew along the sides of the building.

As he spooned into his dessert, he looked at Jenna, impressed with how beautifully she fit into the environment. Her hair caught the setting sun, making it look even blonder. He couldn’t explain why her hair was a source of fascination. Was it because his was so dark? His skin was a lot darker than hers, too.

“I wish I could cook,” she said, her mind obviously back in the kitchen.

“You could learn, couldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Every time I try to make something, it tastes awful. Maybe I’ll ask Tammy if she can give me some pointers.”

“The way you gave her pointers about dolling herself up?”

Jenna smiled. “It might be a good trade.”

“Sounds like it to me.” He studied her again. She certainly knew how to make herself look pretty. Whatever she was wearing on her lips created a warm, kissable effect. “You can use me as a guinea pig if you want.”

“For my cooking?”

Or kissing, he thought. “Yes, cooking.”

“You’re already suffering from a head injury. I don’t want to poison you, too.”

“I’m sure I’d survive it.”

“I’d rather not take the chance.”

“I probably won’t be here long enough anyway.” No poison food. No soft, sweet, poison kisses, either. He needed to stop thinking about how alluring she was.

“Do you like the pudding?” she asked.

He glanced at his cup. He’d only taken a few bites. He’d been too busy admiring her. “Yes, it’s good.”

“Butterscotch is my favorite.”

He noticed that she’d barely made a dent in hers, either. “You’re not gobbling it up very quickly.”

“I’m savoring it.”

“So am I,” he lied, when in fact, he’d been savoring her.

“This is nice, sitting out here with you.”

“Thanks. I think so, too.” He couldn’t envision anything nicer. Well, actually he could, but he’d warned himself not to obsess about kissing her. “We’re becoming friends.”

Friends and only friends, he reiterated.

While a soft Texas breeze blew, he asked, “What’s the name of this town?”

“Buckshot Hills. I’m surprised no one told you before now.”

“It must have slipped their minds.”

“It slipped mine. I wonder how long it will take for Deputy Tobbs to start questioning the locals about you.”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Once you’re feeling better, I can take you on a tour of the Flying B and introduce you to the people who work here, like Deputy Tobbs suggested.”

“Wouldn’t it be ironic if I was on my way to visit someone at the Flying B when I got hurt?”

“It would certainly solve the mystery, and quickly, too.”

There was a mixed-up part of him that wished he’d been on his way to visit her, that she’d been his agenda. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to control his attraction to her. He even worried that he might have an intimate dream about her tonight, with or without a so-called magic bed.

After they finished their pudding, she said, “I really should go now.”

He didn’t try to stop her. It was better to have some distance between them.

She left, and he watched her go.

About an hour later, someone rapped at the door, and he jumped up to answer it, wondering if she’d returned.

But it was Doc, with his medical bag.

The other man said, “Jenna told me that she put you up in this cabin. How do you like it?”

“It’s fine. But I don’t believe that the bed is magical. I know you do, though.”

“I’m a man of science, but I’ve learned that sometimes logic doesn’t apply.”

J.D. didn’t respond, and the subject was dropped. Regardless, the feeling remained. He was still concerned that he might have a sensual dream.

Doc examined him and recommended more bed rest. J.D. followed orders and went to sleep early that night. He didn’t dream about Jenna.

Much to his shock, he dreamed about himself, with an emotion-packed glimpse of who he was as a child.

Chapter Four

Jenna looked across the table at Donna. They were having breakfast together again, and today Donna was paging through wallpaper samples that were stacked beside her.

“We really should stop meeting like this,” Jenna said.

Her sister glanced up and rolled her eyes. But she smiled, too, lightening the moment.

After their mom died, they rarely shared a meal. They would just grab their food and go. Actually, they hadn’t dined together all that much when Mom had been around, either. She’d been depressed over the divorce, then she’d gotten sick.

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