Chapter 7
After hours of driving, Kendall was dead on her feet. But before she could even think of sleep there were things to be done, the first of which was to find Kevin a crib for the night.
In a storage closet she discovered an old playpen that had once been used as a maternity ward for a Labrador dam. Cleaning supplies were in the cupboard where Grandmother had always kept them. She scrubbed the playpen until she was satisfied that it was sanitary enough for Kevin to sleep in.
"Is there anything to eat?"
He was leaning heavily on his crutches, obviously exhausted.
Soon after their arrival, she had suggested that he go to bed, but he had refused. Instead, he had tracked her through the house like a bloodhound.
"You're driving me crazy," she had snapped, having turned quickly to discover him so close behind her that she almost ran into him. "If you won't lie down, at least sit down some where and stop following me from room to room."
"So you can duck out the back door?"
She had sighed in exasperation. "Even if that's what I had in mind which it isn't I don't have the strength to drive another mile. Relax, okay?"
He hadn't relaxed entirely, but he had let up on the stalking to Some extent. In answer to his question now, she said, "I'll see what I can find to eat."
there wasn't much in the pantry a can of string beans and a jar of peaches. "Not exactly haute cuisine," she said, referring to the meal.
It's okay," he said. "At this point, anything is better than nothing."
"I'll buy groceries tomorrow. By then the refrigerator will be cold."
they divided the food and ate it all, including the snack crackers she had bought at the vending machine when she'd been accosted by the teenagers. His interference had made the incident memorable, especially to the boy who would wake up tomorrow with badly bruised shins. She was miffed about that On the other hand, his valor had surprised and pleased her.
obviously his penchant to protect was deeply ingrained and hadn't been destroyed along with his memory. She had noticed his rushing to her rescue, but she secretly conceded that it had been rather thrilling.
Even battered and bruised, he had willingly defended her.
She found his force of will admirable. And he had looked quite dashing when he believed that his territory had been violated.
Kendall wasn't one to swoon over machismo. In fact, she was turned off by it. So she was almost ashamed of how much she'd enjoyed being rescued by this man whose physical power was as attractive as his inner strength.
"I can't remember, are you a good cook?" he asked, drawing her out of her disturbing musings.
"Not great, but we won't starve."
"Sounds like you're planning for us to be here awhile."
"I think we should stay until you recover your memory.
It's peaceful, quiet, a good place to recuperate."
"What about my job?"
She stood up and quickly began stacking the dirty dishes.
She carried some to the sink, but when she came back for more, he shocked her by thrusting his hand into the waist band of her jeans and holding on. His knuckles dug in to her stomach, and she found it wasn't altogether uncomfortable.
"I was gainfully employed, wasn't I?"
"Of course."
"What did I do?"
"If I tell you, you'll only freak out. You're a type-A person that thinks you're indispensable. You'll want to return to work immediately, which of course is impossible. Believe me, your job will be waiting for you when you recover. I've notified everyone who needs to know. They're in complete agreement."
"When did you notify them? The telephone here is disconnected."
That meant he had checked. Before the accident, he had been no mental slouch. Why had she assumed that amnesia would hinder his acuity? Trying not to show her uneasiness, she said, "I called while you were in the hospital."
"How come nobody phoned or sent a card? I find that very strange. Unbelievable, in fact."
"The doctor restricted visitors. He said since you couldn't remember anyone, you'd become frustrated if a flock of strangers descended on you, and that well-meaning friends would do you much more harm than good. We weren't there long enough for you to receive any mail."
He continued to regard her with obvious skepticism.
"It's taken care of. I promise," she stressed. "Your career is not in jeopardy."
"So it's a career, not just a job?"
"You could say so."
"Give me a hint. Doctor, lawyer, Indian chief?"
"You can remember the nursery rhyme?"
His slanted grin slipped. "I guess I do," he murmured.
"How can I recall a childhood ditty, and not remember you?"
His gaze lowered to her chest.
Made nervous by the close contact, Kendall pulled his hand from the front of her jeans. "I hear Kevin."
The baby's crying in the other room brought a welcome end to the interrogation. Naturally he was curious, but the less they discussed their lives before the accident, the safer she would be. A seemingly harmless, random word could trigger his memory.
The interruption had also ended the moment of awkward intimacy, which had jarred Kendall more than she wanted to admit. She must keep him believing that she was his wife, but without crossing the line herself.
After Kevin nursed, she bathed him, then lulled him to sleep in the rocking chair in the living room, singing songs her grandmother had sung to her.
He sat across the room on the sofa, his injured leg elevated on a footstool. The lamp on the end table cast deep shadows beneath his eyebrows, obscuring his eyes, although Kendall didn't need to see them to know that they were trained on her, as steady and watchful as a hawk's.
"What about my family?" he asked abruptly.
"Your mother died many years ago."
He assimilated that, then said, "I guess I can't mourn some one I can't even remember. Do I have brothers and sisters?"
She shook her head.
"What about my dad? Dead, too?"
"No. But the two of you have had something of a falling out."
"Over what?"
"Even before this happened, it upset you to talk about it.
I don't think it best to go into it now."
"Does he even know about the accident?"
"I didn't think you'd want me to call him, so I didn't."
"Our estrangement is that severe? My father doesn't care if I'm dead or alive?"
"He would care if you were dead or alive, but you wouldn't want him to know about the accident. Excuse me. I need to put Kevin down." She tried to keep her exit from looking like flight.
The playpen had been set up in the smaller of the house's two bedrooms. She gently laid the baby in it. He instantly drew his knees up to his chest and stuck his bottom in the air.
"How can he sleep like that?"
She hadn't realized he'd followed her until she heard his voice just behind her shoulder. "A lot of babies sleep that way."
"Looks uncomfortable."
"I guess you have to be three months old for it to be comfortable."
"Did you have an easy pregnancy?"
"I had some difficulty the first several months. After that, it went more smoothly."
"What kind of difficulty?"
"The usual kind. Morning sickness. Fatigue. Depression.
"What were you depressed about?"
"I wasn't really depressed. Just weepy."
"What were you weepy over?"
"Please. I'm exhausted. Can't this inquisition wait?" She moved to step around him, but he lifted his crutch to block her path.
"You know," she said, fumi ng, "I'm getting sick and tired of you using that damn crutch like a tollgate."
"And I'm sick and tired of your evasions. Answer me: Why were you depressed and weepy while you were pregnant? Didn't you want to be pregnant?"
She didn't have the energy to remain angry. Her ire evaporated and she said wearily, "Hormonal changes in the first trimester often make women weepy. And yes, I wanted Kevin very badly."
"Did I?"
Their gazes locked for several seconds, then she calmly moved the crutch aside. "I'm going to take a bath."
She switched off the light. But no sooner was it extinguished than a pair of car lights swept the front of the house and beamed directly into the bedroom.
"Oh my God!" Kendall whirled around and stumbled to ward the window i flattening herself against the wall. Her heart was pounding. She watched in fear as the car rolled to a stop.
Then it just sat there idling at the end of the lane, the headlights aimed like searchlights at the front of the house.
The fog and rain lent it the properties of a leviathan, making it appear large and menacing, its motor sounding like a growl.
She heard his bump-thump approach. "Don't let them see you!" she snapped. "Get away from the window."
He froze in place. Neither of them moved. Kendall didn't even breathe, until the car backed out of the lane and drove away. She could have collapsed with relief. When she was able to speak, she forced a lightness into her voice. "Someone took a wrong turn, I guess."
When she turned around, she saw him standing in the open doorway, silhouetted against the light from the hall. He looked large and imposing. As she went past him, he moved quickly, switching on the overhead light and tilting her face up for a close examination.
"What the hell is going on?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? You're as pale as a ghost. You practically fainted when you saw that car. What gives? Who's after us? Who's after you?"
Keeping her eyes averted, she said, "I just didn't expect visitors, that's all."
"Like hell. I may have lost my memory, but I'm not an imbecile, so don't treat me like one." Still cupping the lower half of her face in his palm, he forced her to look up at him.
"You're running for your life, aren't you? From whom? Is someone trying to hurt you? Your baby?" He glanced toward the playpen, where Kevin was sleeping. "Our baby?"
"No one's going to harm us as long as we're together," she said, and she meant it. Somehow she knew that even though he didn't trust her, and despite an inexplicable aversion to Kevin, he would fight to his death protecting them. That was going to make leaving him difficult.
She knew better than to rely on anyone for protection. She could manage on her own. She had managed on her own for a long time. Still, she felt safer in his company, although, considering his physical condition, it was probably a false sense of security. Being lulled by it would be costly, perhaps even fatal.
She moved away from him. "I'll be in the bathroom. Let me know if Kevin needs me." This time, he didn't detain her.
She filled the claw-footed bathtub to the rim and immersed herself in the warm, soothing water. When she rejoined him in the living room fifteen minutes later, she was wearing only a towel that covered her from chest to midthigh. Her wet hair was combed back from her face, which had been scrubbed clean.
He was standing at the open front door, his back to her, staring out at the darkness and the relentless rain. Hearing the steps of her bare feet, he turned.
"I'm out now," she announced unnecessarily.
As she turned toward the bedroom, he said, "Wait." He hobbled across the room, not stopping until they stood only inches apart.
When he raised his hand to her chest, Kendall flinched. He cocked his eyebrow quizzically, hesitated, then touched her damp skin. "Does it hurt?"
She didn't catch his meaning until she followed his gaze down and saw the ugly bruise that formed a wide, diagonal line across her chest starting at the base of her neck.
"The shoulder harness," she explained. "Not too pretty, huh? Although it's prettier than I'd look if I hadn't been wearing a seat belt."
He gave a fleeting, rueful smile. "Yeah. Then you'd look -like me."
"I'll be all right."
"Well then, I'll see you in the morning. Good night."
His eyes sprang open. "Where are you going?"
She gestured toward the door. "I'll sleep on the living room sofa. I might accidentally bump your leg during the night."
He gave her a long, intent look.
" But if you're willing to take that chance," she heard herself say, "of course I'd rather sleep with you."
Without further discussion, he scooted to the other side of the bed. The effort cost him. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his skin was clammy to the touch when she slipped in beside him.
"Are you all right?" she asked with concern.
"I'm fine. Tired."
"Rest well." For good measure, she leaned over and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his cheek. Rather than soothe him, the kiss seemed to spark a short fuse.
"Surely you can do better than that." Roughly he cupped the back of her head and held it in place while he kissed her mouth. Not soft, not chaste, this kiss. He used his tongue audaciously, sexily, masterfully, and possessively.
He knew exactly what he was doing, too, because, even though she fought them, delicious sensations spiraled through her. They stunned her. And she wasn't the only one affected.
When he ended the kiss, he kept her head entrapped and probed the depths of her eyes.
In his eyes she saw turbulence, indecision, and confusion.
"Jesus," he said softly.
He released her suddenly, as though she were too hot to touch. He closed his eyes and went instantly to sleep. Or pretended to.
Kendall lay beside him, holding her body stiffly, afraid to stir, almost afraid to breathe for fear of upsetting some delicate balance.
