Washed Away (7 page)

His explanation didn’t seem to have worked. He could see the confusion still flickering in her eyes. Her forehead creased and she slumped back on the cushion, her mouth opening to speak, then closing in defeat.

“You’re okay now, and that’s the main thing. As soon as the phone lines are back on, you can call someone, let them know what’s happened.”

She nodded but the expression in her eyes was still scared.

“It won’t be long.” He was staring down at her, but every word of comfort he uttered seemed only to agitate her further. “Once the phone lines are back on, I can get in touch with Mitch and get you evacuated to a hospital—”

“Mitch?”

“He’s the fire chief,” Noah explained. “He’s heading up the mass evacuation of Corpus Christi to Turning Point. I’m supposed to be helping him. The storm was heading for Corpus Christi, but according to the news bulletins, it’s veered off course….”

“Stop!” Her hand shot up to her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut. “What storm, Noah?”

The rain was pounding on the roof, every window rattling. She should have understood what he was telling her, but nothing seemed to add up.

“I don’t know anything about a storm, Noah.” Tears were filling those velvet eyes now, and she massaged her temples as if willing it all to make sense. “I don’t know anything about Turning Point or Corpus Christi or fire chiefs.” Hysteria tinged her voice, and the absolute direness of her situation seemed to strike them both.

“Noah,” she said at last, “I don’t even know my own name.”

“C
HERYL
.”

Soft, infinitely understanding eyes held hers.

“Your name is Cheryl.”

Reaching over to the coffee table, he handed her a watch. Slowly she examined the object, turning it over in her hand, tracing every word of the engraving with her finger.

“This is mine?”

“You were wearing it when I found you, but the face was broken so I took it off. That’s when I saw the engraving on the back. I looked through all your other clothes—” he gestured to the untidy pile that littered the floor “—but there was no ID, nothing at all. I assume everything got lost when the Jeep went down.”

“That’s everything?” Cheryl asked. “You mean that’s everything I had with me?”

“Except for this.” He gestured to the little dog dozing in Cheryl’s lap. “She took a chunk out of my arm when I tried to resuscitate you.”

“I stopped breathing!” It was more a statement than a question. Horror flooded her. She’d been in a life-threatening situation she couldn’t even remember, let
alone comprehend. Each revelation caused a new jolt of alarm to ricochet through her. She fingered the scar on her cheek, which had only now started to make its presence felt.

“Better not touch it,” Noah advised. “That was a nasty cut, and there are quite a few stitches in it.”

“What’s the tinfoil for?” she asked, attempting a smile. “Were you planning to roast me later?”

“It’s a space blanket—your temperature was low,” Noah explained, returning the smile. “I’ll go and get those clothes now.”

“M
AYBE MY FATHER’S DEAD
.” The voice that greeted Noah when he returned sounded frail, an utter contrast to that of the supremely confident woman he had first met. She sat hunched over, staring down at the watch she held in her shaking hand. “I mean, why would only my mom’s name be there? Why would only my mom be proud of me?”

“Hey, maybe you bought it from a secondhand shop,” Noah suggested, trying to take the edge off her fear. “Perhaps your real name’s Tiffany and you’ve got a husband and three kids waiting for you back home.” A surge of sympathy washed over him as he eyed her troubled expression. “You really can’t remember anything at all?”

“Nothing,” Cheryl whispered. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, one thing we do know is that you’re not from Turning Point.” Noah gave a wry smile. “I’m sure I’d remember your face. Maybe you’re from Corpus
Christi. That’s where the storm was due to hit. They’re evacuating residents here—”

“Corpus Christi?” She shook her head in bewilderment.

“Or maybe you’re here on business,” Noah suggested. “I had you pegged as a reporter when we met at the gas station.”

“Dressed in that? I don’t think so!” Cheryl exclaimed, gesturing to the pile of clothes on the floor. The flash of humor brought a welcome smile to both their lips.

“Maybe not,” Noah conceded. “Hey, you could be a doctor or a nurse. Mitch had a team sent in from California to help deal with the evacuees, and at the gas station you said you were here to look out for humans.”

“I said that! Why?”

Noah almost blushed, and was thankful Cheryl was too engrossed in her own problems to notice. “We had…words.”

“About?”

“I jumped the line, you were pissed off….”

“Oh, and that sounds like a nurse….”

Noah suppressed the smile that twitched at the edge of his lips. This difficult, wary woman was snarling and snapping like the dog she’d arrived with, but Noah knew that both of them were just plain scared.

“Still, that doesn’t explain the New York accent.” Noah kept his voice light, afraid that if she knew he was trying to assess her, she’d get her guard up. “Which part of the state are you from?”

“New Rochelle.” It was an immediate response, and
he watched as she hugged her knees and clung to that tiny piece of knowledge.

“You’re a long way from home, then,” he said softly.

“On vacation perhaps?” Cheryl suggested hopefully. “Visiting relatives for a couple weeks?”

“I don’t know, Cheryl,” Noah admitted. “But one thing is for sure. This is
temporary
amnesia you’re suffering from.”

“Oh, and you know that for sure, do you.” Her voice was brittle but tears were brimming in her eyes. “I thought you said you were a vet.”

“Animals can get it, too, after a head injury,” Noah said, deliberately not taking offense at her argumentative tone. Behind the prickly façade, this woman was terrified. “And you’re right. Given that I’m not Dr. Doolittle, I can’t get verbal confirmation of my diagnosis, but take it from me, animals do get amnesia.”

He watched as she pleated the blanket, digesting the information he had given her. At last her troubled eyes looked up at him.

“So how do you know it’s only temporary? How can you be sure I’m not going to be stuck like this forever?”

“Because you make a lousy amnesiac.” Noah smiled, his casual tone halting the rising hysteria in her voice. “Because you said without thinking that you came from New Rochelle, because you’re still the same argumentative women I met a few hours ago. Now all we’ve got to do is wait until the rest of the jigsaw pieces fall into place.”

“Jigsaw?”

“A picture, cut up—”

“I know what a jigsaw is, thank you! I’m not completely stupid,” Cheryl replied indignantly. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Noah asked. But when Cheryl shook her head, lay back on the pillow and stared at him with bewildered eyes, Noah knew she’d had enough. “You’re going to be okay,” he said softly but firmly, peeling the space blanket away and at the same time covering her with a soft, warm woolen one. He shook his head when Cheryl wrapped it around herself and tried to stand up.

“Lie down,” Noah ordered.

“I don’t want to lie down,” Cheryl argued, but Noah scooped her legs back onto the sofa and eased her firmly down.

“You’re not going anywhere in that condition. If you need something, then I’ll fetch it. For now, all I want you to do is lie here and rest, and bit by bit, the world is going to start coming back to you.”

“Promise?”

Where was the woman with the forked tongue and too much attitude? He’d have no trouble keeping her at bay. But seeing her like this, so scared and vulnerable, made him want to pull her into his arms and hold her through this nightmare.

“I promise,” he said.

“Sorry…” A tear spilled down her cheek and he watched her wince as the sting of the salt hit her scar. “Sorry for all the trouble.”

“Forget the thank-you’s and sorry’s for now. We could be stuck her for a while. Why don’t I go and get you something warm to drink?”

She nodded. “I’d kill for a bath.”

“Can’t do anything about that, I’m afraid. The power’s out, and anyway, you’re not well enough. How do you take it?”

“Take what?”

“Your coffee.” He gave a slow smile. “Silly question, huh?”

He could see the tears still filling those proud, dark eyes, and her full lips quivered. His first instinct was to go over, but he held back. Professional detachment was what she needed now, a chance to absorb all she had so recently been through and come to terms with her memory loss.

“I won’t be long.”

“Noah.”

The single world stopped him. He turned and stood in the doorway.

“Can I be the reporter, please? I mean, out of all of them, that’s the one I like the most.”

He got the reference instantly, and relief flooded him when he saw that despite her fear, her sense of humor was intact. Smiling, he shook his head.

“Sorry, this is my house, so it’s my fantasy. I’ve decided now that you’re a veterinary nurse, looking for work. A very competent veterinary nurse who also happens to be a whiz on Excel.”

“I can’t really see me delivering calves!”

“That’s my job.” Noah grinned. “But I guess you’re right. I can’t really see you hitting it off with Mabel.”

“Mabel?”

“I’ve got a highly stressed sow about to farrow.”

“I’m amnesiac, remember? In English, please.”

“A neurotic pig that’s about to go into labor.”

“Yuck!”

“I figured you’d say that.” Noah gave a mock groan.

“So can I be the reporter, then?”

Noah nodded, and was surprised to feel his throat tighten.

“You can be anything you want to be, Cheryl.”

“H
EY, LITTLE GUY
.” A wet nose pushed at Cheryl’s hand. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she dragged the dog onto her lap, smiling at the eager eyes that greeted her. But her smile wavered as she felt the emaciated body. She reached down for her flashlight and felt a wave of horror as the angry welts that littered his body came into focus.

“Here’s a warm drink.” Noah stood in the doorway, two steaming mugs in hand, watching her play with the dog.

“He’s covered in welts….”

“He’s a she.”

“Poor thing. He—I mean, she—must have been hurt in the accident, maybe when the Jeep…” Her voice trailed off as she ran the beam of light over the quivering body once more. “These aren’t new injuries.”

Noah shook his head but didn’t elaborate.

“This is
my
dog?” Raking a hand through her damp hair, Cheryl blew out the breath she was holding. “You think that
I
did this?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Cheryl felt herself
begin to panic. “The facts speak for themselves. This is my dog….”

“This is the dog that was in your Jeep, that’s the only fact we know.”

“Oh God….” A whimper of terror escaped her lips. “I’m lying here, praying things will come back to me, hoping I’ll remember who I am, and suddenly I’m wondering if I really want to know. What if I don’t like me very much?”

“Cheryl.” Noah’s voice was firm. “You’re jumping to conclusions here. The simple truth is, we don’t know what happened, don’t know what or who brought you to Turning Point.” Holding out a mug, he waited until she hesitantly took it. “But like it or not, we’re stuck here for the next few hours at the very least, so let’s not make assumptions. Sooner or later you’ll start to remember.”

She nodded, feeling lonely and dejected, drawing warmth from the mug of coffee in her hands. Noah sat on the sofa beside her, put the dog in his lap, and with one hand he skillfully, gently massaged the pup’s ears.

Cheryl took a sip of coffee, and an involuntary smile wobbled on her lips. She placed the mug on the coffee table, carefully avoiding the rabbit. “I think I remember something. I take sugar.”

“Maybe I just make really lousy coffee.” Noah sighed, reaching for the sugar bowl.

“I don’t want to be the kind of person who could do that, Noah.” She gestured to the injured dog nestled in his lap. “I don’t want to wake up from a dream and fall headfirst into a nightmare.”

Noah looked puzzled. “What dream?”

“This.” She looked around the room at the pictures clustered on every available surface, the flickering fire casting shadows along the walls, the ticking clock and this man who made her feel so safe. “The horse kind of ruins it, though,” Cheryl added, her tone lighter than she felt.

“How?”

“I think I must be obsessive-compulsive or something,” Cheryl said with a wry smile, “and as gorgeous as Georgina is, she kind of messes up the dream for me. I keep wondering if she’s about to leave us a ‘present.’ I just know that would drive me crazy. I know I like the towels hung straight, the label facing away, and I hate the way you stirred my coffee and put the spoon back into the sugar bowl, and I know that if my bag was here, I’d be heading for your bathroom and flossing and brushing my teeth about now.”

“I told you things would start coming back.”

She laughed at his enthusiasm, still reveling in the tiny glimpses she was receiving of her personality. “My name is Cheryl, I have a dark Jeep at the bottom of a river, and somehow I’ve become responsible for an abused black dog that I’m sure I’m not the owner of. It isn’t really a lot to go on.”

“It will do for now.” Without a second’s hesitation, he stood and placed the dog in her lap.

It was like being given a second chance. Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes as she embraced the tiny crea
ture. That Noah would trust her, accept her word that she hadn’t done this, meant more to Cheryl than she could say.

“There’s a storm brewing,” Noah said. “I should really check on the animals, and as for you…” He scooped up the rabbit in one easy motion. “How did you get out?” he scolded.

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he stared at her thoughtfully. “It’s not normally this crazy,” he said, gesturing to the rabbit and Georgina. “I didn’t want to leave them in the van but I didn’t have time to put them in their pens.”

“Can the dogs stay?” Cheryl asked, not quite ready to be alone yet.

Noah nodded. “Dogs aren’t work. They’re purely a pleasure. Try to get some rest, Cheryl. I’ll go and make sure the animals are all okay.”

“Can I help?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Then can I go…” She started to get up, but he put out his hand to stop her.

“Rest…sleep,” he murmured, tucking the blanket over her shoulders. “I’ll just be next door.”

Strange how safe those words made her feel, Cheryl thought. Strange that amidst all this confusion she could meekly lie back and let her eyes slowly close.

And even though she thought she’d be glad to see the back of Georgina, Cheryl kind of missed the little horse and her furry rabbit friend, missed that twitching nose and the magic she’d awoken to. Her eyes closed as she drifted toward a sleep she so des
perately needed. And if she were honest, she had to admit that she also missed the man who was walking away, the man who’d created this haven. A man called Noah, who’d built an ark. A man who had pulled her from the raging river.

A man who had saved her life.