From New York Times bestselling author Rachel Lee comes a story of one woman’s survival and her protector’s promise to find answers

The arrival of a single black rose signals danger to come for Kylie Brewer. Recovering from a brutal attack that claimed three years of her memory and her chance at a promising career, Kylie just wants to pick up the remaining fragments of her life. She returns to her hometown of Conard City to live with her sister but soon learns that putting the past in its place won’t be easy.

Marine sergeant Evan Cooper—a trusted family friend who agrees to help Kylie—can’t ignore his protective instincts. Or the steadily growing desire he feels for a woman who has overcome so much. He vows to help keep Kylie’s demons at bay…but someone else has plans to finish what they started.

“You’re a good man, Coop.”

“Sometimes.”

Kylie wanted to argue with him about that, but figured she couldn’t. He had memories he’d never share with her, memories that clearly troubled him. She just hoped that someday he would once again believe that he was a good man. Because he was.

He ran his palm lightly up and down her arm, from shoulder to elbow. Tingles of pleasure began to run through her, warming cold and hollow places inside her. Because of her amnesia, she didn’t know how long it had been for her, but she knew how desperately she needed this feeling now. Good, normal feelings. Nice feelings. As naturally as breathing, she turned into him and smiled up at him. “I like that.”

His gaze jumped to her upturned face, then a slow smile was born. “Dangerous words, lady. And a dangerous time to have them.”

But despite his warning, he bent his head a bit so he could brush a kiss on her lips. Sparklers ignited inside her. Just that light, soft touch and she was sizzling.

“Wrong time,” he murmured.

“Is there ever a right one?”

* * *

Be sure to check out the rest of the

Conard County:

The Next Generation

series!

Dear Reader,

I have always been fascinated by the way memory works. Or perhaps the way it doesn’t. Who among us has not had a conversation with someone we know, only to discover they remember an event quite differently than we do? Absent videotape, no one can say who is right.

I have some selective amnesia myself, periods of my life that I absolutely cannot remember. I could so identify with Kylie and her sense of having lost something she should remember. In her case, it was all her studies, and with it the future she had planned. With me, it was more personal, but it’s troubling sometimes to have people discussing something I was involved in and simply can’t remember.

However, in Kylie’s case, that amnesia proves to be dangerous. If she can’t remember the man who attacked her, how can she know that he is close? Coop, a marine on leave, is all that stands between her and more horror.

Enjoy!

RACHEL LEE was hooked on writing by the age of twelve and practiced her craft as she moved from place to place all over the United States. This New York Times bestselling author now resides in Florida and has the joy of writing full-time.

Conard County Marine

Rachel Lee

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

About the Author

Title Page

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

The talk in town said Kylie Brewer was returning to Conard City with no memory of what had happened to her. That should have made the man who had tried to kill her feel good, knowing she couldn’t identify him, but he didn’t trust her amnesia. He was going to have to keep an eye on her in case she started remembering. The possibility terrified him.

And then there was the fact that she was still alive. That bugged him. She was supposed to have died, vanishing forever from his life. Instead she still breathed and walked and talked.

And she might remember.

He was galled by the fact that he had a score to settle with her. He thought he’d done it when he left her in that alley. Apparently not. Or maybe he had. He couldn’t quite make up his mind about that.

Regardless, the need to take her out hadn’t been satisfied, not completely, and it still nagged at him, made him itch. Kylie Brewer should be dead as physically as her memory had become.

He pushed ideas around in his head, trying to square his needs with reality. She had survived, but she’d lost all her plans and a chunk of her life. Kylie was now damaged goods. Surely he could leave it at that. But part of him wasn’t pleased and probably never would be. An unfinished job.

As long as she didn’t remember, maybe he could live with that. Much as he didn’t like to soil his own nest, if she started remembering, he’d have to act even though it would be harder to cover himself in such a small town.

But he’d deal with that if it became necessary. In the meantime, he just had to remain one of her friends. He had to find ways to be around her, to listen to her, to make her trust him.

In case she remembered.

Somewhere deep inside, much as the possibility frightened him, he hoped she would because then he wouldn’t have to argue with himself anymore. The decision would be made for him; the internal uncertainty would be gone.

He’d have all the reasons he needed to finish the job, no matter the danger to him.

But it occurred to him that a little misdirection might be useful. A little scare that would have everyone looking in a different direction. Something that would distract him from the nagging fear that Kylie would remember. Something that would distract everyone else from Kylie.

Humming, he set about changing his appearance with a wig and ugly cheap sunglasses, then went to get one of the old, unrecognizable cars from the barn where his dead father had left them. All he needed now was to find one little girl walking home from school alone.

Chapter 1

Riding into the outskirts of Conard City finally released the awful tension in Kylie Brewer. Her sister, Glenda, was driving, and Kylie had been uneasily aware since they left the hospital in Denver that nothing looked familiar to her. Nothing.

And yet she had lived in Denver for the last three years. She’d even been treated in the hospital where she had worked part-time. The violent assault that had landed her in the hospital at death’s door had stolen those three years from her, and all she wanted was to see and touch something, anything, that was truly familiar.

Now she saw familiar sights at last. The Olmstead ranch, green and lush with the spring, caught her eye and filled her with a sense of peace. Cattle and deer both grazed amid the deepening grasses. She wondered vaguely if Mr. Olmstead minded the deer grazing, but couldn’t recall if she’d ever heard a word about it. Another gap in her memory? She hoped not.

Conard County, Wyoming, was home, and Conard City was as familiar to her as yesterday. Maybe more so, given how much she had forgotten. She had grown up here, and despite all the fear and despair that had dogged her since she awoke in the hospital, now she felt excited, hopeful. At peace, however temporarily.

“A word of warning,” Glenda said, speaking for the first time in the last fifty miles.

“What?”

“I’ve got a houseguest. You remember Connie Parish? She used to be Connie Halloran?”

“Of course I remember her.” It felt so good to be able to say that.

“Well, her cousin is on leave from the marines, and he’s in town for a few weeks. I couldn’t see letting him stay at the motel when I have a perfectly good room to let him use.”

In an instant, all the tension returned to Kylie. “Glenda...I don’t know him.”

Glenda patted her thigh before returning her hand to the steering wheel. “It’s fine. He’s not a threat. He was overseas when you were attacked. He only got here two days ago.”

That was supposed to be comforting? Kylie’s hands knotted into fists. Sharing her sister’s house with a stranger? While it was true she had no memory of the attack on her, and no memory of most of the last three years, she didn’t feel at all comfortable around strangers. Even the hospital staff, some of whom had worked with her before she was attacked, had presented a constant sense of threat simply because they were now strangers.

“They never caught the guy,” she said dully.

“I’m telling you, it couldn’t have been Coop. You want to check his passport?”

Kylie glanced at her sister, feeling irritated, noting that Glenda had become sharper since her divorce. Realizing she was probably being unreasonable herself.

“Look,” said Glenda, “the doctor explained your fear is normal. I understand that. You can’t remember, although I’m not really sure how remembering would help. It’s natural to be uneasy around strangers. That’s what he said. But Coop is Connie’s cousin and he won’t be a stranger for long, okay?”

Kylie managed a stiff nod. All she had wanted to do was come home and sink into the comforting familiarity of a life she could remember, and now a stranger had been thrown into the mix. She nearly felt betrayed by Glenda. Then she tried to tell herself that meeting a real stranger, one she couldn’t possibly remember, could be beneficial itself because she wouldn’t have to rack her absent memory. Somehow she didn’t quite believe her own argument.

Turning her head, she stared out at the passing countryside, picking out the ranches she remembered, realizing they were only minutes from driving into town. She had no idea how much or little had changed about Conard City during the years she couldn’t remember, but she guessed she was going to find out. It would probably be almost the same. Little changed as slowly as Conard City.

The center of town looked pretty much as it always had. There was the courthouse square, surrounded by storefronts, where a handful of retired men regularly met to play checkers or chess at the stone tables in the front park. A few were there now, though the afternoon was still chilly. It was like a snapshot, familiar her entire life long. The picture never changed much, although the faces at the tables did with the turning of the years.

“Brick sidewalks?” she asked suddenly, noticing.

“The resort up the mountain put them in. They were going to paint, too, but the landslide halted everything.”

Small change, an attractive change, but she remembered nothing about a landslide at the resort, although she remembered hearing it was going to be built. Another gap. She wondered if she should bother asking about it. It hardly seemed worth the effort at that moment.

Everything else remained solidly familiar, including her sister’s driveway and the house. It was the family house, a two-story Craftsman style painted white, left to both of them by their grandparents a few years ago. Their parents had both died years before on holiday in Guatemala. Their tourist bus had been attacked by some bandits.

But that had been a long time ago. Fifteen years?

Glenda pulled up to the side door and switched off the ignition. Kylie didn’t move. After a minute, Glenda turned in her seat. “Kylie, if it’s really too much, I’ll ask Coop to move to the motel. I’m sure he and Connie will understand, under the circumstances. But give it a try for me, okay?”

Kylie managed a stiff nod. “I will.”

Glenda sighed and reached for the door latch. “This has got to be hell for you, not remembering the last few years. I can’t imagine it. So be patient with me, okay?”

Kylie felt a rush of warmth for her sister. “If you’ll be patient with me.”

Glenda smiled. “The house is pretty much the same. I think you’ll remember most of it.”

All of a sudden Kylie reached out and touched her sister’s arm. “Glenda?”

“Yeah?”

“I may have forgotten other things, too. I have no way to know.”

Glenda nodded. “I guess we’ll see. We’ll talk about it more, but let’s go inside and make you some coffee or something. And you must be hungry by now.”

Maybe. Her stomach was still knotted with the trepidation that never quite left her anymore, but she forced herself to get out of the car.

The back steps were concrete, and still had the crumbled corners she remembered. At some point a larger crack had been patched, the concrete a different, lighter gray. The screen door still screeched the same old protest. The glass-topped inner door opened soundlessly on well-oiled hinges.

One step into the kitchen and she paused, looking around, dragging in the familiar smells with a deep breath. Little had changed indeed. The cabinets had been repainted, but the same white. A few new appliances sat on the counter, but otherwise it carried her instantly back to her childhood. She smiled for the first time in ages. “Do I smell marinara?”

“I made some last night. If you want, we can have it later. Let me get your suitcase.”

A suitcase. She had a whole bunch of possessions from an apartment in Denver, but most of them might as well have belonged to someone else. She’d brought a few keepsakes she remembered along with her, and Glenda had ruthlessly put everything else in storage until Kylie decided what she wanted to do with it all.

Gratitude toward her sister once again flooded her, and she made up her mind to do her best with this Coop guy in the house. Besides, he’d probably spend an awful lot of time visiting Connie, Ethan and their children. She probably wouldn’t have to see much of him at all.

Glenda rolled the suitcase inside. “You get your old room,” she said. “It’s always been yours, but you know that.”

“Thank you.”

Glenda smiled. “You don’t have to thank me. What are sisters for? Anyway, this house belongs to both of us.”

Glenda was a few years older than Kylie, which, when they were children, had always given her a superior position. It didn’t feel that way anymore, Kylie realized as Glenda parked the suitcase in one corner of the kitchen and waved her to sit at the old table. The years had at last made them equals...at least to some extent. Kylie definitely felt at a disadvantage with her memory loss, but those were years she hadn’t lived here, anyway.

Glenda buzzed about. For a woman of thirty-four who’d been through an ugly divorce, she looked good, Kylie thought. Even with the gap in her memory she was barely able to note changes in Glenda. She still wore her light brown hair in a ponytail and moved with the ease of someone who was fit, and still seemed to prefer scrubs to jeans. But then Glenda was a nurse, too, like Kylie.

A sharp contrast there, Kylie thought with a touch of humor. Kylie herself was moving much more cautiously these days, since parts of her were still healing. Almost there, she assured herself. Soon she wouldn’t feel the hitches of scars from all the knife slashes, or the ache in her ribs from the beating. Soon she’d be almost normal again.

If she’d ever be normal with a three-year hole in her memory. Three years that had included her own long-awaited training as a nurse-practitioner. Stolen from her by some creep on the street.

As she sat at the table waiting for Glenda to make the coffee, she closed her eyes and listened to the house. It still sounded the same, she realized. An odd thing to notice, but she did. Sounds moved the same way through the structure, echoed in the same way. Even the sound of the refrigerator turning on carried her back in time.

At last Glenda joined her at the table. “Tired?” she asked as she poured the coffee and pushed a plate with toasted bagels closer to Kylie.

“No, not really. I was listening to the house.”

Glenda arched a brow. “Listening? It’s awfully quiet. Not like when we were running around here constantly making noise.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, it was.” Glenda sighed. “So three years are missing?” Until now, Glenda had devoted herself to dealing with each matter that arose, but they really hadn’t talked between them about Kylie’s amnesia. As if Glenda needed some time to deal with it, too. Or maybe Glenda had just been glad to have a chance to rehash her divorce with someone who didn’t already remember every detail of it.

“Pretty much. I can’t remember my training, or my apartment, or anything else. Denver seems like a place I’ve never been before. But the truth is—” Kylie bit her lip “—I can’t be sure I’ve forgotten everything. Or even sure that I haven’t lost even older memories.”

“Memories are a funny thing,” Glenda said, reaching for a buttered bagel. “We rewrite them all the time. So my suggestion to you is that you not get wrapped up in knots over details. It’s not like I could tell you every minute from a day four years ago.”

For the first time Kylie felt like laughing, so she did. “That’s a good point.”

Glenda grinned. “I’m full of good points. I know it must be disturbing, but the doc said there’s a good chance you’ll get at least some of it back. I hope it’s just the good parts.”

Kylie heartily agreed with that. She definitely did not want to remember the attack, although she felt bad that she couldn’t identify her attacker. It might have protected some other woman from the guy.

“And you can always start your training again,” Glenda added cheerfully.

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. Kylie battled back a sense of darkness that threatened to swamp her. She’d been pursuing her master’s in nursing with an eye to becoming a physician’s assistant. She couldn’t do that here. To do that would mean going back to Denver, to the program that had promised to reinstate her entire scholarship so she could afford it, and she couldn’t imagine any possible future path that would take her back to that city. Not now. Not ever.

She heard Glenda sigh and opened her eyes.

“Sorry,” Glenda said. “I was trying to be positive and I guess I put my foot right in it. But there are other schools in the country.”

“It’s okay.” But it wasn’t okay. In the broad daylight of a late afternoon, Glenda had brought the nightmare back. Usually the evil darkness pursued her only in her sleep, but now here she was wide awake and she felt as if a demon were looking over her shoulder. God, she hated the feeling.

Just then, causing her to start, there was a knock at the side door.

“Coop,” said Glenda, pushing back from the table. Kylie could see only the silhouette of a man on the other side of the sheer white curtains, and her heart hit an immediate gallop. Stop it, she told herself. Stop it. She was safe. She was not alone. She was home.

Glenda opened the door. The sun was at a perfect angle to bathe the man standing on the top step in golden sunlight so brilliant that Kylie had to blink. For an instant she couldn’t make out any details while her eyes adjusted to the brightness.

Then, stepping out of that halo came a tall man dressed in jeans and a blue polo shirt. His impact was instant. He was big, muscular and still golden from the light, even his dark brown hair.

“Is my timing bad?” he asked immediately. A deep baritone voice that seemed to go along with his size.

“Kylie and I are having some coffee. Join us?”

Kylie realized she was gripping the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline and she was about to drown. She tried to tell herself she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t loosen her grip. She did manage what felt like a wan smile.

Coop stepped farther into the kitchen while Glenda closed the door, but he didn’t come close to Kylie. “Hi, I’m Evan Cooper. Everyone calls me Coop, obviously. And if you want, I’ll just disappear upstairs. I...heard you’ve had a bad time.”

Kylie didn’t want to be rude, much as she wished she didn’t have to face this, not yet. Not before she got her feet beneath her and felt more comfortable about being home. But she also didn’t want to be discourteous, and Glenda had asked this man to stay here. Absent three years, she still knew that Connie and Ethan Parish had three kids who probably filled their house to the rafters. Be civil, she told herself. You can always run upstairs if you feel overwhelmed.

“Please,” she said quietly. “Join us. You just got back?”

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

After 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.

“So what’s the hardest part and what can I do?” Ashley asked. “Anything?”

Kylie rose at last and walked slowly around the living room, touching familiar items as if they could connect her to the past that had a great gaping hole in it. Her ribs still ached, and she felt scars on her body stretch a complaint, but it wasn’t that bad anymore. “I honestly don’t know, Ashley. All I know is that it’s scary to have forgotten so much. I didn’t even recognize my own apartment, or most of what was in it.”

“That would be...eerie. Weird.”

“It is. I mean, I could tell I lived there, the signs were everywhere, but I couldn’t remember it. The only things I recognized were things I had before I moved to Denver.”

“Creepy,” Ashley said. “My God, that’s got to be a scary feeling, Kylie. I can’t imagine it.”

“Don’t even try. It’s hard enough to explain.” Weariness washed over her again. It had been a long day. She returned to her chair and tried to smile. “Some of it may come back. In fact, they seem sure that some of it will. The thing is, it probably won’t be enough to make up for those semesters in school that I can’t remember now. I don’t know if I even want to try again.”

Ashley nodded sympathetically. “The nice thing is you don’t have to decide now. Glenda is thrilled to have you back. In fact, I think she’s thrilled to have someone in the house who isn’t Brad. Do you remember him?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”

Just then heavy steps alerted them and Coop appeared carrying a coffeepot and three mugs. “Want to join me?”

Kylie felt Ashley look at her. Apparently it was to be her decision. A moment of amusement passed through her. Glenda swore she wasn’t interested in Coop. Now she wondered if Ashley was. “Love to,” she answered. Regardless of how she might be feeling, she could see no point in interfering with Ashley’s romantic interest.

Coop poured and passed the coffee around and set the pot on a coaster. “If I’m a fifth wheel, tell me.”

Kylie shook her head. “You’re fine. We were talking about my amnesia. We might as well talk about it. It’s kind of lying there in the middle of everything.”

Coop sat on the other end of the couch. “So...how much did you lose?”

“About three years for sure,” she said honestly. “All my time in Denver, all my schooling and training there...it’s a big blank. I don’t even remember people who were apparently my friends. The thing that also worries me is I don’t know if I have other blanks from earlier in my life.”

He lifted one corner of his mouth. “I think we all have those blanks.”

“That’s what Glenda said.” But she felt a burst of resentment. Having amnesia wasn’t something to be minimized. Not being able to trust your own memory at all wasn’t something to be brushed aside. But railing about it would only make these people feel bad, and all they were trying to do was make her feel better. God, this whole thing had turned her into some kind of mess.

Apparently Coop was better at understanding people than she would have expected from a marine. He spoke quietly. “I’m not trying to be dismissive, Kylie. Not at all.”

“No,” she agreed, the irritation remaining with her. “Everyone’s trying to be reassuring. And, yeah, I get that most of us don’t have the best memories, and that we all forget things, but it’s different when you lose three whole years!”

She heard her own voice rise with vehemence and didn’t care. Let them deal with it. It stank. All of it stank. Being attacked and nearly killed would have been bad enough all on its own, but losing a big chunk of her life? Losing all that work toward her master’s degree?

It was as if some part of her brain had simply shut down the sections labeled “Denver” and “Grad School.” She hoped she never remembered the attack. If that was all she had forgotten, she’d gladly live with it. But she had lost a whole lot more, and now she had to wonder what other things were lost that shouldn’t have been. Sure, everyone had holes in their memories, but usually they forgot unimportant things. She couldn’t be sure she hadn’t lost the important ones.

Then shame pierced her. “I’m sorry. You’re both trying to be so nice.”

“Well, maybe,” Ashley said, “us being nice isn’t what you need. Do you want me and the girls to stay away for a while, give you a chance to settle? Because honestly, Kylie, I’ve never dealt with anyone with amnesia before. You’re going to have to tell me what you want and what you don’t want.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think I know.” Kylie dropped her head against the back of the chair and closed her eyes. “It’s weird, Ashley. I keep feeling like I’m meeting myself for the first time and I don’t know who I am anymore. I remember who I used to be. But who am I now?”

Coop spoke slowly. “I realize I’m a stranger here and should probably just keep my mouth shut...”

Kylie opened her eyes and looked at him. “Just say it.” At this point she had no idea who might hold a key that would unlock the tension inside her and just allow her to move on. Because moving on was her only choice, and she really couldn’t understand why she was resisting it, fighting it, as if nothing mattered but remembering.

“There are a lot of ways life can give us that feeling,” he said quietly. “I’ve had it a few times myself. An experience that completely changes you. Now admittedly, I knew exactly what I’d been through that caused it, but I do understand the feeling. It’ll pass, Kylie. Whether you regain your memory or not, eventually you accept that who you are now is all you are now.”

“Wise words,” she said quietly.

He shook his head a little. “I’m no sage. I’m just trying to tell you that what you’re feeling is a natural response to a huge change.”

She propped her chin in her hand and closed her eyes, thinking about it. He was right. But so was she. Life had stolen something priceless from her, and she didn’t think she was going to be happy about that anytime soon. But wondering who she was? Maybe that was a pointless exercise.

Ashley spoke. “You’re looking tired, Kylie. I’ll leave now and let the girls know you’re okay. Or Coop can tell Connie.”

“You go ahead,” Coop said. “I’ve been temporarily banished for the crime of overstimulating kids.”

Ashley laughed. “The two young ones wind up faster than a top. How long is your banishment?”

“Only until tomorrow morning. Then I’ll be in demand again.”

Kylie watched Ashley rise and head for the door, Coop right behind her, playing the host. Or maybe he was interested in her, too. Ashley was beautiful, all right, with that strawberry blonde hair, a color no one would ever get out of a bottle. Next to her, Kylie felt plain, not that she’d ever minded before.

But then Ashley was gone and it was just her and Coop. She hadn’t touched the coffee he’d poured, but he grabbed the mugs and carried them to the kitchen, and when he returned with them, he poured more for both of them.

“You want me to be scarce?” he asked. “I do know how.”

She looked at him and envied him. “Right now I wish I were in your skin.”

A surprised sound escaped him. “What?”

“You look so comfortable with yourself. Like earlier, when Ashley was here, you just sat there looking like you belong right here.”

He hesitated, then sat, legs splayed, elbows resting on his jeans. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“I don’t feel like I belong anywhere anymore,” she admitted, feeling as if her heart were tearing. “I don’t know why. I practically grew up in this house, but I don’t feel like I belong here, either. And...I’m scared all the time!”

There, she’d admitted it and she wasn’t happy with her own outburst. She felt weak, silly, maybe a little crazy. The only Kylie she remembered was the one from years ago, before life had stolen so much from her. That Kylie hadn’t lived in fear. That Kylie had been happy being Kylie and had felt comfortable in this house, in this town...

“God,” she whispered, “what did that man do to me?”

Chapter 3

Coop didn’t know how to respond. All the appropriate words sprang to mind about traumas, major life changes, all of it, but speaking them wasn’t going to fix a damn thing for Kylie, and she’d probably heard it all already from the medical people. He understood what she was trying to say—he could even identify with some of it—but he had no handy-dandy answers to offer.

Finally, carefully, he said, “I’m not as comfortable as I look.”

That brought her head up, and her reddening eyes fixed on him. “You look like you own your space.”

“That’s easy to do when you’re a big guy and a marine. But it’s all on the surface.”

She started to shake her head, and he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“Look,” he said. “I’m living in your sister’s house for a few weeks. Nice offer and all that, and I wouldn’t want to offend her or cause my cousin to feel bad, but frankly I’d be a whole lot more comfortable in that motel no one wants me to stay at. Instead I’m a guest in a stranger’s house.”

The disbelief began to fade, and interest leavened her face a bit. “That makes sense to me.”

“It probably does. I’m just sorry you’re feeling that way in a house you grew up in. That’s wrong. Anyway, what did that guy do to you? He stole from you, and he stole things that no one should ever have to lose, but unfortunately people get robbed of them all the time. You might be fairly unique with your memory loss, but lots of people lose their sense of safety. I don’t know what he did to you physically, but I can see the emotional results and, while they’re normal, they stink. And they’re something you’re just going to have to ride out.”

He wished he had more to offer, but all he could give her was honesty. Call it what she might, Kylie had some grieving to do, and grief was never an easy road. More like a roller coaster—it would come in waves and just when you thought maybe you were on top of it, it would slam you once again.

Then he decided to change the subject. It was all he could think of that wouldn’t make her brood more about her situation. “So this Todd who came earlier. Old friend?”

Kylie shrugged. “We went to school together. We dated a few times but...” She sighed. “What can you say about dating someone in high school? Relationships change fast. I think he was mad at me for not going to the prom with him, but by then we hadn’t dated in months. I was surprised he even asked.”

“You liked him?”

“Sort of.” He was relieved to see her expression lighten a bit, and hear a small laugh escape her. “We were kids, Coop. He’s good-looking, and that got my attention, but when it came to the actual dating part... We just didn’t hit it off. It was a relief to move on. I enjoyed time with my girlfriends more.”

He nodded. “Well, it was nice of him to stop by.”

“I suppose. Ashley might have been right about curiosity, though. I wonder if I’m going to get a lot of that. Maybe I should charge admission. Come see the woman who lost her memory.”

Then she really did laugh, and a prickle of unease ran through him. Her mood seemed to be swinging fast. But instead of worrying him further, she simply leaned back, smiling. “Well, I can still remember high school, including giving Todd his letter sweater back.”

“You only had a couple of dates but he gave you his letter?”

“I know. We moved fast back then, didn’t we?”

Coop didn’t remember it that way, but after a moment’s thought he could remember a few couples who had. For his own part he’d never dated much until after he’d left home and joined the corps. Even then his job and tastes had limited him.

“Anyway, he did seem mad at me for a few months after I refused to go to the prom with him, but it blew over. It was hardly the end of the world, after all, and he went with another girl, so he didn’t miss out on anything.”

“And you?”

“I skipped it.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t just Todd I didn’t want to go with. I didn’t want to go at all.”

“Well,” he said, feigning surprise, “now I’m shocked. I thought every girl wanted to go to the prom.”

“I didn’t. It all seemed so plastic. A rite of passage left over from another era. For some it may have been a high point, but for me I was already focused on starting my nursing classes, and that seemed like a much bigger deal. It wasn’t like I was going to settle down with one of the guys from high school...although quite a few girls did. But that wasn’t me.”

He smiled. “Memory check good.”

At that a small laugh escaped her. “I guess so.” Then she swiftly changed subject. “So what did you do in Germany?”

“I was on leave. I had some extra time built up and decided to see a part of the world where bombs weren’t flying. And since there was a military transport flight headed that way and they offered me a bucket seat, I went.”

He almost ached at the way she seemed so eager to think about something that had nothing to do with her situation. While he was used to feeling sympathy for people—it came naturally to him—he wasn’t used to feeling something deeper and stronger, but Kylie seemed to be pulling that out of him. Dangerous. He was supposed to be taking some R and R, not giving himself a new mission. Or creating new problems for anyone, himself or Kylie.

“Anyway,” he said, deciding his boring little travelogue would at least distract her, “I was only there a few days but I got to see a couple of castles. I fell in love with their bratwurst and German cooking in general, and they have the most wonderful public transportation system.”

“Really?”

He didn’t know if she was feigning interest, but he plunged on, anyway. “Trams in town, trains to almost every place you could want to go. I got chills touching old Roman walls.”

She perked up. “Chills? Really?”

“Think about it. I touched stones that had been cut and laid by Roman soldiers nearly two thousand years ago. It was like I could feel this connection to those long-ago workers. Of course, I had the same reaction to a few places when I was in Iraq. Call me crazy, if you want, but it was like stretching across the millennia and reaching out to people long gone who had left a real mark of their passing.”

Her gaze grew almost dreamy. “I don’t think that’s crazy. I like it. Maybe you should be an archaeologist.”

He shook his head a little. “I may be past making such a major life change. But that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate it. Maybe it meant more to me because my job doesn’t involve building much.”

He liked the way she was brightening as she listened, and he sought other stories to tell her that might please her. Unfortunately, the kinds of jobs he’d had to do were best told only to other combat vets. And maybe he had enjoyed those ruins more because his job involved a lot of demolition and destruction. On the other hand...

He spoke quietly, almost forgetting her for a moment. “Roman soldiers had to be builders, too. They built their own forts, their own barracks. Eventually they helped build towns. The modern military doesn’t require that of most of us.”

“Do you think it should?”

He stirred and finally drank some of his cooling coffee. “I guess that depends on what you’re trying to accomplish. The Romans were making their forts a permanent presence—establishing outposts for an empire. That’s not our goal.”

“Maybe not,” she answered tentatively.

He summoned a smile and tried to leave reflection behind. Now that he was evidently home for good, he’d have more than enough time to sort through his own baggage. Right now all he was concerned about was making one woman feel comfortable with him. “Anyway, I hope to go back to Germany for a longer visit. And if I do, this time I’m damn well going to see Paris, too.”

That elicited a chuckle from her. “I guess you missed all the good stuff in your travels.”

“Yeah, it was very mission oriented. Go here, do that. Not a whole lot of time for sightseeing.”

“And probably not safe, either.”

“Rarely.” He tried to study her without staring, wondering if she was trying to bring up the subject of her own fears.

Then she answered his unspoken question. “How do you live with being afraid all the time?”

Ah, crud. He stared at her openly now, thinking that she was truly lovely and life had dealt her a hellacious hand, and seeking some kind of answer that wasn’t trite.

“Do you ever get over it?” she asked.

Another good question. “Some people do,” he answered finally. And others got sucked dry by it, depending on the intensity and persistence, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.

“It must be different for you,” she argued. “You must have gone into a lot of scary situations.”

“You mean I had practice at it?”

She bit her lip. “I guess that came out wrong. I just know I’ve never felt this way before, and I can’t shake free of it. Which is really strange, because I can’t remember what happened, and it’s obviously over and I’m mostly fine. How can I be scared of what I can’t remember?”

He hesitated again. This woman was making him very hesitant, and he wasn’t used to that. He felt like he needed to tiptoe, to be very careful he didn’t say the wrong thing. He was no professional, and he had no idea how psychologically vulnerable she might be. The last thing he wanted to do was add to her problems.

“We don’t just remember with our brains,” he said after a moment. “Our entire bodies remember some things.”

That caused her to draw a sharp breath. “I didn’t think of that.”

“And fear can be a good thing.”

“It’s awful,” she said bluntly.

“But if there’s a reason for it, it’s useful. So you never want to lose your ability to feel it. It can be directed, it can be protective. Or...it can overwhelm you.”

“So how do you deal with it?”

“Like a warning system.”

“But I have nothing to be afraid of!”

At that moment he would have liked to gather her into his arms and hold her, as if he could soothe her. As if. But a hug wasn’t going to take care of the invisible demons stalking Kylie. Certainly part of the problem was that they were invisible. If she could see them, name them, face them...he suspected her fear would find direction and maybe even ease somewhat.

“You don’t know that you don’t have anything to be afraid of,” he pointed out. She might be trying to believe it, but she didn’t actually know it. Whole different thing.

She nodded slowly. “You’re right. That man is still out there. I can’t remember him. What if he wants to finish what he started? What if he walked up to me right now? I wouldn’t even know it!”

That was the crux of her problem, at least in part, and for this there was nothing he could say or do. “That’s rough,” was all he offered when she remained silent.

“And maybe a bit crazy, too. I’m home in a safe place. And I’m willing to bet Glenda asked you to keep an eye on me. You don’t have to, you know. I’m not going to do anything crazy.”

“I never thought you would. Would you rather be alone?”

Her face froze, paling a bit. “No,” she whispered. “Coop, I don’t want to be alone.”

* * *

Kylie hadn’t been alone for more than short periods since she emerged from a medically induced coma in the hospital nearly two weeks after the attack, once her brain had stopped swelling. Not really. Even in the middle of the night when her room had been darkened and the door closed, she could still hear the voices in the hallway outside, the voices of medical staff moving around. A hospital was never completely silent, and solitude was the illusion of a door.

Then Glenda had been there almost every minute. After the hospital, Glenda had taken her back to her apartment to help her pack, and at most she’d been alone for twenty or thirty minutes when her sister ran out to get more boxes or something for them to eat. Those minutes had seemed endless, her nerves crawling every single second, impatience for Glenda’s return driving her nearly nuts. How many times had she come close to hiding in a closet during those interludes?

The memory of that could shame her, but the feelings had been overwhelming. Were still overwhelming. The idea of coming home had looked like the answer to everything. Apparently not.

She sat in the house she had spent a lot of her childhood in and she still felt the crawling fear, still felt that if she just looked over her shoulder she’d see...what? Something. Something bad. God, she must be crazy.

Coop stirred finally and came to sit cross-legged on the floor at her feet. “I won’t leave you alone,” he said. He held out a hand, palm up. Asking, not demanding. Apparently aware that he was a stranger and she might fear a man’s touch.

That careful, gentle invitation called to her, however, and she reached out, laying her hand in his. He squeezed gently, but in no way made her feel trapped. She could slip her hand away as easily as she had given it.

“You can’t promise me that,” she said finally.

“Not every minute of the day, obviously. I need to visit Connie and her kids. But I can do that when your sister is home, which is most of the day usually. And tonight, for sure, I can be right here in this house.”

She started to feel small. “I’m sorry. I don’t have the right to ask that of you. You came here to see family, not to babysit me.”

“Who said I’d be babysitting? You’re an attractive, interesting woman. I won’t mind at all.” He smiled, but only with his blue eyes. They crinkled at the corners, and his expression was warm.

For a few seconds, Kylie didn’t answer. In those moments she was suddenly a girl she’d almost forgotten, one who had once thought it would be wonderful to share her life with a man, a man like this one who could be powerful and gentle at the same time. She had the worst urge to climb off the chair and curl up in his lap. To let him take care of her. Almost at once she rebelled. What the hell was she thinking? The Kylie she had been before the amnesia had been strong, capable of taking care of herself. She couldn’t let this weaken her like this.

She spoke, dragging her thoughts back to reality. “I don’t know what could be interesting about me. All I’ve done is whine.”

“I hadn’t noticed. Look, you’re dealing with a tough problem. Talk about it as much as you want.”

“Do you talk about your problems?” She watched him start.

“My problems?”

“You’ve been in combat, haven’t you? Surely you’ve got some wounds from that.”

He looked down, but didn’t release her hand. “I don’t talk about that much, for obvious reasons.”

“But you’ve learned to live with it?”

He glanced at her, his expression almost rueful. “I’m still learning. I’m good at hiding it.”

She sighed, feeling the warmth of his hand. This wasn’t wise, not in her current state. She was letting a man get too close—worse, a stranger. What was she thinking? Had she become that desperate for comfort? The only comfort she was going to find evidently had to come from within herself. “Maybe I should hide it, too.”

“Why? I talk with other people about my experiences. I’ve just found it’s wiser to reserve them for other combat vets. We’re all on the same page. Unfortunately, I don’t know who else would be on the same page with you.”

Except him, she thought. He probably came closest. He’d undoubtedly been under attack. Maybe even wounded. He might understand better than anyone.

“I don’t like being scared,” she said quietly. “Especially of something that’s over. I don’t like the fact that my whole career plan blew up. If I had to forget something, the attack would have been quite enough, without forgetting all the time I put into school. But that’s where I am, and I’m already sick of feeling sorry for myself. I need to move on.”

“Of course. But you’re scared. So...it’ll take a little time. You’ll grow comfortable again. Promise.”

Then he smiled and astonished her by leaning forward to drop a quick light kiss on her hand. Then he rose and stretched. “I want more coffee. You?”

She hadn’t even touched hers and it had grown cold, but it sounded good now. “Thank you.”

Then she was alone again, although not entirely. She could hear him in the kitchen, but it was as if her internal vision was shattered somehow. She could look around the room and recognize every single item except the new TV. Her grandparents’ living room, hardly changed over the years except for the chair she sat on. It should have felt like home. Except something was preventing her from feeling that. In its silent emptiness it had become part of the threat that stalked her. An unresolved threat. The man who had tried to kill her was still out there, and from things she suspected she hadn’t been intended to hear, they thought she’d been attacked by a serial killer. Someone who had done this before and would do it again.

So how could home even feel safe?

* * *

Coop stood in the kitchen making a fresh pot of coffee. The last one had mostly gone down the sink drain. He liked his coffee, but he didn’t like wasting it. Like when he was in the field, and he’d be lucky to get an opportunity to make one lousy, warm cup of instant coffee. Precious coffee.

Thinking of Kylie was opening a can of worms inside him, too. He couldn’t imagine how alone she must be feeling. She was walking a path that no one else could walk with her. Everyone was trying to make her feel better and take care of her, but that wasn’t enough. She needed to face that demon, or at least talk to someone who understood it.

As he waited for the coffee to finish, he wondered if he should open his own can of worms for her benefit. Just a little. To show her that someone really could understand. Holding things inside rarely did much good, which was why he’d been taking full advantage of various veterans groups where folks could get together and share those stories that couldn’t be heard by other ears. That shouldn’t be heard.

But Kylie wasn’t going to find a support group for the surviving victims of a serial killer, or any kind of killer, around here. And he doubted there was a whole lot of support anywhere for the victims of amnesia.

Which left him, he guessed. Maybe he could find one story to share with her that would let her know he understood what it was like to live with crawling fear even when you were safe. Yeah, he was getting better at it, but that didn’t mean he was fully past it.

He returned to the living room with two mugs, saying, “I guess I should have asked if you want tea. That seems to be Glenda’s poison.”

She gave him a wan smile. “I like coffee, too. Thanks.”

“It’s the staff of life for me.” Then he volunteered a bit to see what kind of reaction he got. “When I was in the field, we had packets of instant coffee. I was lucky if I could warm it up a little. These days I’ll take a real cup of coffee any time I can get it.”

“I’d imagine so.” Her eyes followed him as he returned to the couch. He could feel her gaze, an instinct as deep in the human race as it was in any prey animal, but honed in his case by experience. When he sat facing her again, he got socked once more by how pretty she was. But it wasn’t just that she was pretty. His body had chosen a very inopportune time to react to a woman. This one was in no condition for that.

But how to reach her? He scoured his memory for a way to relate his experience to hers. Maybe generalities, he decided. “I have some idea what you’re going through, Kylie. When I was in a dangerous area, the only way I could tell friend from foe was by a uniform. People who seemed nice and welcoming could turn into killers in an instant. Not always, but often enough that I stopped trusting.”

She nodded, and he thought she was looking almost hungry for what he might say, as if it would help her to feel better in some way. “So, yeah,” he said after a moment. “I know what it’s like to be wondering what’s around the next corner, what’s right behind you, where the threat might be.”

“And now?” she asked.

She wanted more hope than he knew how to offer. “It’s getting better,” he answered truthfully. “It still sometimes hits me hard, but it’s getting easier.”

She bit her lip, then asked, “So you feel it even at home?”

“Of course. Those feelings don’t let go easily.” And sometimes they never let go, but he didn’t add that. The repeated experiences of war were different from a single attack, and if anyone had a decent chance of getting past this, she did. He didn’t want to discourage her in any way.

“But I’m not crazy?”

Shock rippled through him. “Hell, no. Who made you think that?”

“Me,” she admitted. “I can’t remember any of it. But I’m sitting here in a house I know every nook of from my childhood and it’s like... I can’t explain it. It’s like the coziness went away.”

He waited a moment, seeking words that might help without making her more uncomfortable. “When I come home,” he said presently, “I can’t tolerate narrow streets. In fact, I sometimes have trouble driving.”

Her gaze grew intent. “Why?”

“Experience. A narrow street is the perfect setup for an ambush, with no place to run. And driving...well, at times when I drive I see oncoming traffic as a potential threat. It’s like I’m dealing with what’s really there, and what I used to have to fear.”

“But you get past it?” she asked eagerly.

“Eventually. It eases. I get occasional flashes, but just flashes. It doesn’t consume me anymore.”

She nodded, absorbing what he’d said. He didn’t tell her how hard-won that emotional equilibrium was, or that he could still, though rarely, have a really bad flash. She had only one experience to deal with. There was no reason to believe she wouldn’t eventually get almost completely past this.

“But,” he added, “sometimes it’s like living in two worlds, where for a few moments here and there I’m not sure where I am. So if I do something weird, you’ll know why. I haven’t been back very long.” Although the time in Germany had helped ease the transition.

Finally, she sipped some coffee, but he thought she was looking as weary as if she hadn’t slept in a week. Which brought another question to his mind. “Are you sleeping okay?”

She shook her head slowly. “The anxiety hits the minute my head touches the pillow. Finally, I fall asleep, but I wake up again almost every hour with my heart pounding. That’ll pass, too, right?”

“I’m familiar with that. It passes.” Eventually. God, he was beginning to feel as if he were talking to another vet. She might not have had the same experience, but she was having the same fallout. Maybe it was worse for her because she had forgotten so much. He knew a lot of guys who forgot the trauma of their injuries, but they didn’t forget the rest. How much harder might it be when you couldn’t remember anything for such an extended time frame? Imagination failed him.

He spoke. “Did they give you any medicines to help with this?”

She shook her head. “I had some brain damage. I got the feeling they’d rather I didn’t take anything at all, at least not yet. They sure didn’t offer me anything.”

“Tough.” Absolutely tough. He had plenty of friends who were on all kinds of meds to help them over the hump of PTSD. Plus counseling and support groups. He looked at Kylie and realized that family and friends aside, she was more alone than anyone he’d ever known. No one to turn to who could really understand. No real medical support.

And he was getting in deeper by the minute. For a guy who’d come here to take a break and visit his cousin’s kids, he was starting to become involved in more dangerous waters. He wanted to help this woman but he didn’t know how. Not really. All he could do was listen and assure her she wasn’t crazy. And she certainly wasn’t crazy.

He passed his hand over his mouth, thinking again about how pretty she was, how beaten she was and how frail she looked. Where did he find a wedge to start prying her out of the prison the attack had created around her?

Damned if he knew. Hell, he didn’t even know if she had shared any of this with anyone else. Did he seem safe to her because he was a stranger who’d be leaving soon?

He didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure he liked that idea, either. What was happening to him?

* * *

At some level, Kylie had been listening to herself, wondering at her own frankness, surprised that she felt as if Coop was some kind of kindred spirit. Really, they had little in common, yet here she was spilling her fears to him. She hadn’t even done that with her own sister.

Think about something else, she told herself. Talk about something else. Pretend to be a normal person talking about normal things. God, every time he told her he’d experienced some of what she was going through, she was probably stirring up bad things for him. That wasn’t very kind of her. At any minute he’d probably find a reason he needed to stay at the motel, just to escape her whining.

She sighed and shook her head. “Sorry. I seem to be totally self-involved. And don’t tell me it’s understandable. We both need other things to think about than trauma, yes?”

“Only if it works.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Don’t apologize. I’ve done my own share of this over the years. It’s normal. The brain processes things in bits when they’re overwhelming. Give yourself the processing time.”

“I may be processing for a long time.”

“And maybe not. So Glenda said you’re a nurse, too?”

“I was.”

He leaned forward. “Was?”

“With this memory loss... I was studying to become a physician’s assistant. I can’t remember any of my studies from the last three years. And right now, I doubt anyone would let me take care of a patient as a nurse until they’re sure I haven’t forgotten important parts of that.”

He nodded. “I guess I can see that. And I guess that was exactly the wrong change of subject.”

Her mood shifted a little. Where it came from, she had no idea, but she laughed quietly. “Quite a conundrum. This is one of those wait-and-see things, I guess. Ashley is beautiful, isn’t she?”

Now why had that popped out? One of the disturbing things she had noticed since she awoke was that occasionally things would just pop out of her mouth, things she never would have spoken aloud before. It scared her, because it showed she had lost a basic form of self-control. Thank goodness it was apparently rare. She just hoped it didn’t become permanent.

“Yes, she is,” he answered. “But you were the one I noticed.”

Her jaw dropped a little and she felt an astonishing kernel of warmth blossom inside her, driving back the cold that had been consuming her for weeks now. Just a little lifting of the curtain that reminded her she could have normal feelings.

Then he said something more. “You look exhausted. If you don’t want to go up to your room and be alone, how about you stretch out on the couch here and I can keep watch over you. If you won’t feel awkward. Or...you can put your head in my lap for a pillow. I’d kinda like that.”

“But how would you sleep?”

“Lady, I can sleep standing up or hanging off a cliff. No worries.”

It proved to be an offer she couldn’t refuse. Not to be alone. Even after Glenda had come to her apartment they’d slept in separate rooms, leaving her to face the nightmare alone each time she woke.

It would be miraculous not to be alone when she woke in terror. The invitation was irresistible.

Five minutes later, she had a blanket and took the offer of his lap. His thigh was warm and powerful under her head, and his hand reassuring on her shoulder.

Until now, she had believed she would never want to be touched again. Instead, with Coop at least, it felt like the most wonderful thing in the world.

Her heart didn’t slam into high gear; her mind didn’t start racing trying to recover the forgotten nightmare. She focused instead on his warmth, his strength, his caring.

And sleep found her gently for the first time since her coma.

* * *

The killer was growing increasingly agitated. Why couldn’t Kylie have remained in Denver? Getting to her there would have been so much easier. Instead she was living in a town with few secrets where everyone knew her, and that Coop guy was an added wrinkle.

He told himself over and over that he’d gotten even, that he didn’t need to finish her. But there was a part of him that needed that resolution, knowing that his victim was gone for good, and that he’d made sure of it.

How had he screwed this up, anyway? That bugged him as much as knowing his victim was still alive, however damaged. He’d failed.

He hated to fail. He was a winner by nature; he expected everything to work out the way he wanted, including this.

But he’d messed up, and he was pretty disgusted with himself. Utterly disgusted. A great big failure.

Maybe he’d settled the score, but he hadn’t settled himself. He’d gotten an F on the ultimate test and it chafed him constantly.

He had to find a way to remedy this. Even if she never remembered him, he still needed to finish it. And the longer he waited, the more likely it was that she’d remember something.

He didn’t know what upset him more sometimes, failing to kill her or fear that she might remember him.

But there was one way to settle it all. He just needed to figure out how.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to savor the minutes when he’d tried to take her life, running them like a movie through his head. It felt like a power surge, unequaled by anything in his life. He could do it. He could do anything when he put his mind to it, and killing the woman whose rejection haunted him, and whose memory might snare him, seemed like something he needed to put his mind to.

Kylie might be a slipup, but that was temporary. He could do it.

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