High Lonesome (22 page)

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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

BOOK: High Lonesome
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“I looked, but I couldn’t find our marriage certificate.” He chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what you’ve done with it. It wasn’t in the wedding album where I thought you kept it. I brought a photo taken of us on our wedding day instead. I figured it would suffice.” Jack glanced at Buddy, received the go-ahead nod, and retrieved the picture from the briefcase and presented it to her.

There it was, in full color, the proof that she was indeed his wife. After a few lingering moments in which she tried to get her head straight, she set the photo aside and gazed longingly at the one of herself and the little girl. She
was
that child’s mother. She had known it; felt it so strongly.

I connected with Willow because of the bond I had with my own little girl,
she thought, sadly.

“Jack? You don’t mind if I call you Jack?” she asked.

“Of course not. Jack’s my name, honey.”

She cringed when he called her honey. “Sheriff Griggs says you drove in from Arizona. He said you came from Tucson.”

“Yes. We live in a suburb of Tucson. You—I mean we—have a very nice home,” he added, smiling at Buddy.

“Do you have any idea how I ended up in a desert in New Mexico?” she asked with the directness of an investigator. “Ghost Rock is a long way from Tucson, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, and his lips grew grave. “There were no witnesses, but we suspect you were kidnapped. The kidnappers must have driven all this way to throw the police off and then left you in the desert when they had what they wanted. I presume they were after money. I understand you had no purse or I.D. on you when you were found.”

“They? Who are you talking about?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “The people or person who took you. The Arizona State Police conducted an investigation, but the trail ran cold fast with no real leads. Still…what else could have happened? You didn’t just walk to New Mexico on your own.”

His theory didn’t make sense. “Who would have kidnapped me? Are we wealthy?”

Jack glanced at the sheriff again and tilted his head. “Well, we’re quite comfortable,” he answered. “I’m the vice president of a bank. Don’t freak out, but your disappearance might have been drug-related.”

Inside, she did freak out. “Drug related? In what way?”

“There have been some drug-related robberies in houses in our part of town lately, and it was an angle the police considered. I think that’s what happened. Some punks broke into the house thinking no one was home, but you were there, and they took you hostage.”

Her eyes enlarged. “What about Heather? Was she hurt?”

“She wasn’t with you at the time, thank God. She’d been playing at a friend’s house.”

“Oh.” Relief poured through her veins.

“All that matters now is that someone found you, and you’re safe. I’ve been going crazy with worry.”

“What kind of search for me took place? Were our friends and neighbors questioned? What were you doing to find me?” She fired questions at him with the relentlessness of a bulldog.

“Whoa.” Jack held up his hands. “I know you have a lot of questions, and I’ll try to answer them all for you. Let’s take them one at a time. This has been a trying time, for both of us.” He leaned forward and reached for her hand, but she kept hers folded in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his gray eyes clouding. “I forgot. I’m a stranger to you.”

“Give her some time,” Buddy suggested.

A shiver ran down Beth’s spine. Her eyes searched the man’s face as she tried to conjure up even one shred of a memory besides the terrible flashbacks. She couldn’t be absolutely sure the visions were true memories. She wasn’t even sure he was the man in them, but her intuition told her to be wary. As Doctor Coleman had explained, amnesia affected the brain in different ways. She couldn’t wait to be reunited with her daughter, but should she be frightened of this man who claimed to be her husband?

She placed her head in her hands.
Whether I like it or not, I’m Angela West, Jack’s wife. He has a wedding photo to prove it. There’s nothing I can do but go back with him and to my former life. Even if I don’t remember him, I have a daughter. I do remember my child, and I want to be with her again.

She scooted the chair back, causing the legs to scrape the floor with a squawk, and stood. “Seems there’s nothing left here to do. If you’re satisfied, Sheriff, I guess Jack and I should be going home.”

Buddy moved away from the desk and extended a hand to them both. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a happy ending.”

Angela wasn’t entirely sure about that, but she forced a smile and spoke with sincerity when she said, “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. West. Good luck to you both.”

Jack opened the briefcase, stuck the wedding photo in, and then snapped it shut. Angela was still holding onto the picture of her and Heather.

As they stepped out of Buddy’s office, she froze. Cody was gone, but Scott was there in his place, leaning against the wall with his boot kicked up and his blue eyes shining from underneath his dusty Stetson. Their gazes fastened.

“Scott, it’s about time you showed up.” Buddy strolled to him and clapped him on the back.

“Scott Landry, I want you to meet Jack West. He’s your friend’s husband. Her real name is Angela West. They’ve just been reunited. Mr. West, I’d like you to meet Scott Landry. He owns the High Lonesome Ranch just outside of town, and he’s the man who has kept your wife safe and sound for you.”

Jack stepped forward and offered a handshake. “Mr. Landry. Thank you.”

Scott returned the shake, while never removing his eyes from Angela. Her gaze dropped to the floor. A distinct hum mushroomed from him. She could feel it vibrate between them like a tuning fork.

“It appears I owe you, Mr. Landry,” Jack said. “I’d like to repay you for all you’ve done for Angie.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a checkbook. “Would a thousand dollars cover her expenses for the last few days?”

Scott’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want your money, Mr. West.”

“I insist. It’s the least I can do.” Jack began to scribble on the check.

“Save your ink,” Scott repeated. “I won’t take money for doing what any decent person would have done.”

Angela raised her gaze.

“Don’t be ridiculous…” Jack began.

“I said that’s the end of it.” Scott sidled next to Angela and looked her in the eye. “So, you’re leaving with him? Just like that? No questions asked? No goodbyes?”

“I beg your pardon?” Jack exploded. His chest puffed like a rooster as he took a step forward. Angela stopped him from advancing by putting her hand on his arm.

“Would you mind giving us a few minutes? I need to speak to Mr. Landry privately.”

“What?” Jack’s upper lip curled into a snarl.

“Please. I owe him a few minutes. Go to the car. I’ll be right out.”

Jack and Scott stared each other down like bulls in a ring. After a moment’s hesitation, Jack conceded. He jammed the checkbook back into his jacket pocket. “All right, but don’t be long.” He turned and fired a threatening look toward Scott as Buddy held the door open for him. The two of them stepped outside, leaving Scott and Angela alone in the reception area.

“Why are you going with him?” Scott asked. “You don’t even know this man. What about us? What happened last night? Please talk to me.”

“Scott, I’m begging you. Don’t make this harder than it already is. He’s my husband. He showed me a wedding photo. And I have a child, a daughter,  just as I suspected.” She thrust the photo in front of him. “Look. She’s four years old. I have to go with him. I can’t abandon my little girl. You wouldn’t ask me to do that.”

“What about all the other flashbacks? The ones that scared you half to death? Is this the man that was yelling at you in those flashes? He’s probably the one who hurt you. I’d bet my life he dumped you in the desert and left you out there to die. I don’t know why, but I don’t trust him. You shouldn’t either.”

“Stop it, Scott! Maybe everything was just a bad dream. What am I supposed to do? I have to go back to my child. You, of all people should understand that.” She felt her eyes misting.

When he hugged her, she dropped her head onto his chest. His lips moved through her hair. “I meant what I said at the lake.”

“I’m sure you did, at the time.”

“What do you mean, at the time?” He pulled back.

Her eyes widened. “Never mind. I need to go.” She took several steps toward the door. “Please tell Carmen and Willow goodbye for me. Tell them how special they are, and will always be to me.”

“Don’t walk away. Come back to the ranch with me and tell them yourself.”

“I can’t. I don’t have the courage to face them. Jack’s waiting for me. I have to go.”

“You’re afraid of him. I can see it in your eyes. Don’t go. Stay with me.”

“No.” She turned so he couldn’t see the tears pooling.

“What about your clothes? Your things?” he asked.

“They don’t belong to me.
Nothing
at the ranch belongs to me.” Angela glanced down at her outfit. “I’ll mail these clothes back as soon as I get home.”

“Keep ‘em,” Scott replied, his voice flat.

A deafening silence hung in the air.

“Well, goodbye, Scott. This is for the best. For both of us. You’ll come to understand that in time.” She made a streak for the door, praying he couldn’t see through her lies.

“Hold up a minute.” He grabbed her hand— she whirled—and he forced a slip of paper into it. Her skin singed at his touch.

“If you ever need anything, call me,” he said. “And I mean
anything
.
Anytime
. I’ll always be there for you.”

She stuffed the paper into her back jeans pocket. “Thank you. I’ll never forget you and Willow.” She wiped at her eyes and flung open the door. Rushing into the glare of the sun, the willed away the tears and pain that tore at her heart. Jack leaned against a black BMW with his arms crossed. The car looked familiar, but it didn’t matter just then. She was grateful when Jack opened the door and helped her in. When she slid onto the passenger seat, Jack bolted to the other side, hopped in and stuck the key in the ignition.

Scott strode outside and joined Buddy on the sidewalk as the beamer pulled out of the parking lot.

Angela looked out the passenger window and graced him with one last, sweet smile.

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Despite the many questions Angela had for Jack, they only spoke sporadically on the drive to Arizona. As the miles clicked over on the odometer, she became more anxious about returning to a house she didn’t remember and a man who was a virtual stranger. There had been only one reason she made the hasty decision to go back to Arizona with him, her daughter—the little brunette child she
did
remember.

“What kind of getup are you wearing anyway?” he asked suddenly.

The sound of his voice made her jump. She’d been staring out the window, idly watching the saguaro and sagebrush fly by and consumed with memories of Scott and the moments they’d spent together. She’d also been mulling over the flashbacks, wondering about their true meaning.

Her heart seized as she remembered the hand raised, the wildness of her assailant’s eyes and the anger in his voice. A tremor ran the length of her body. She looked over to see Jack glaring at her. “Pardon me?”

“I asked why you’re wearing such a ridiculous outfit.”

Flinching at his accusatory tone, she answered quietly. “It’s a shirt and jeans. I don’t see what’s so ridiculous about it.”

“A plaid shirt with pearl snap buttons and cowboy boots? You don’t see what’s ridiculous about it? You look like you’re dressed for Halloween. The old Angie wouldn’t be caught dead in that stupid costume.”

Dead
. The very word haunted her. She’d come so close…

“You can burn those things when we get home,” he continued, smugly. “You’ve got two closets full of designer clothes. I won’t have my wife dressing like a hick from the sticks.”

His attitude was not in the least bit attractive. “I won’t burn them,” she replied. “I don’t think you understand what I’ve been through. These clothes represent who I am now. I’m not sure what the
old
Angela was all about or how the
old
Angela behaved or dressed, but I’m not that woman anymore.” He’d hit a sore spot and she didn’t care whether he liked the way she responded or not.

“I know this must be difficult for you,” she continued, “but things are not the same. You’re going to have to get used to the new Angie.” She turned her head back to the window and felt tension melt off her shoulders at standing up to him.

Jack didn’t utter another word until they reached Tucson. But she sensed anger seething below the surface of his cool façade.

The moment they pulled up to a magnificent brick house in a posh gated neighborhood, news reporters inundated them. Angela was shocked to see a half dozen media trucks parked on the street and photographers camped out on the lawn.

“Damn paparazzi,” Jack grumbled as people with microphones clamored around the car and banged on the windows. “Do you remember the house?” he asked through the noise.

She gawked at the mansion and shook her head.

“Get away!” Jack yelled through the glass. “Leave us alone!”

Angela shielded her face. “Why are they here? What do they want?”

“They want to interview you. You were on all the news stations. I guess you’re a celebrity now.”

She had no desire to be a celebrity. She didn’t want to be famous for going through the trauma she’d gone through.

Jack pressed a button on the console and the garage door rose. As he pulled the car in, the reporters swarmed around, shoving their microphones and cameras in Angela’s face as she stepped out of the car. Jack rushed to her side and tossed his arm around her shoulder. The questions flew at her like bullets.

“Mrs. West, where have you been staying since you disappeared?”

“How did you end up in New Mexico, Mrs. West?”

“Angela, they say you have amnesia. Do you remember your husband and child? What
do
you remember?”

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