was an unconscious action, one born of an old habit.
“What does it mean?” His words sounded harsh in his own ears and he couldn’t say for sure if he was asking about the medallion or the ring. Either way, his hands itched to reach out to her. Instead, he jammed his fists onto his hips.
“It’s…he…no, they…” She struggled to find the words, her chin trembling with the effort. “I don’t remember.”
She impaled him with a haunted look before squeezing her eyes shut and turning away from him.
The pain in her eyes undid Ryan. Anger he could stand. Tears he could deal with. But this silent agony was too familiar, reminded him too much of another woman a lifetime ago. He’d been helpless then, just a little boy, powerless to ease a suffering he couldn’t begin to comprehend. Not until it was too late and he never had a chance for atonement.
Maybe this was his chance. Years too late, it wouldn’t erase the old memory. Nothing could do that. Nor would he want to lose that image. It was too much a part of him, too ingrained in his psyche. He wouldn’t be who he was, where he was, what he was without it.
But maybe here, now, with this woman, he could do what he hadn’t been able to do when he was six.
He drew her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. A soft tremor shook her body as she dragged in a breath.
“Why can’t I remember?” Her warm breath washed over his arm in a soft moan. “It’s so close. But it’s all jumbled together….”
“It’ll be okay. Shhh.” He rubbed her back and shoulders, crooning in soothing tones. “We’ll sort it all out. Don’t worry, sugar. If there’s someone out there, he’s probably looking for you. We’ll…” He stopped short of promising they would find him. Don’t make a promise you might not be able to keep, boyo.
She pushed away from him and paced across the room. For a moment, he thought she might bolt out the door, but she turned and continued walking the perimeter of the kitchen.
“Why can’t I remember?” Her voice trembled between tears and frustration. “It doesn’t appear that I hit my head. There’s no reason I shouldn’t remember. I should know who I am.” She spun to look at him. “I should know who gave me these things and why I feel nothing but empty when I think of him.”
Ryan’s stomach rolled into a giant knot. Whoever the guy was, the connection to her was strong. He couldn’t keep his gaze from that blasted ring she still played with. Could this shadow be anyone other than her husband?
Damn, first woman to get my interest—
Whoa. Where’d that come from? Just because he was on R and R didn’t make this any different from one of his undercover assignments. No personal involvement. She was a woman in need of help. That’s all it was. That’s all it could be.
He crossed the room to her. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he looked into the pale gray depths of her eyes. “We will solve this. I promise you that.” He slid one hand down to her elbow and tugged. “Come’n sit down. Let’s look through everything. Maybe something will jog loose.”
She followed him back to the table like a tired puppy. He settled her in her chair and watched as her head sank into her hands. “Do you have a headache? Do you want some aspirin?”
“Yes. No.” She glanced at him and he saw a glimmer of a weak smile. “Yes, I have a headache. No, I don’t want any aspirin. The lemonade will do.”
He refilled their glasses and sat next to her again. “Why don’t you look through the notebook, see if you recognize anything.”
The kitchen clock ticked the next few minutes off while she leafed through the small spiral-bound notebook, studying each page. He busied himself with the film canisters. They held nothing but film, a mix of color and black-and-white, most of it used, judging by the lack of any film leaders.
She flipped the last page of the notebook, closed it and pushed it aside. Slumping back in her chair, she combed her hair away from her face. “Nothing other than exposure settings and a few locations.”
“Well, don’t fret on it. We can check out the locations later, see if that shakes anything loose. We’ll get this film developed, too. Maybe whatever you shot will tell us something. Come on, AJ.” A shiver danced across his insides. Right or wrong, he’d just given her a name. “Let’s get you tidied up some. Sleeping on the beach probably left you a mite gritty.”
He stood and held a hand out to her. “The guest bedroom is right down the hall.”
She glanced from his eyes to his hand and back again. “Why did you call me that?” she whispered.
“It…kinda slipped out.” His hand dropped to his side. “‘Hey’ is too general and Jane Doe is too…well, it just doesn’t seem to fit you. Those engraved letters look like a monogram and it seems pretty likely it’s yours. AJ’s the closest we’ve come to finding a name….” He tugged at his earlobe. “I’m sorry. If it bothers you, we can come up with something else until we find out your real name.”
“It startled me is all. I rather like how it sounded just now.” A soft blush darkened her cheeks. “Somehow, not being able to remember doesn’t seem quite so hopeless, as long as I have an identity of some sort.”
“Then AJ it is, until we find out otherwise.” He pulled her to her feet and led her down the hallway. “You know, this could be the opportunity of a lifetime.”
She looked at him, disbelief clear in her expression.
“No, really. Think about it.” He pulled a towel from the hall linen closet and handed it to her, along with a facecloth, a new toothbrush and an array of small bottles of toiletries from various hotels. “Not everyone gets to start over with a clean slate. You’re free to decide who you are, what you want to be.”
“Well, I suppose you could look at it that way. I just wish the slate wasn’t quite so clean. All I have is this sense of urgency, of something I need to do. But I have no idea what.” Her eyes widened and she clutched his arm. “Omigod. What if I have a child? Or children. What if they’re somewhere waiting for me? What if they’re in danger because I’ve abandoned them?”
A chill raced through him. Her words hit him harder than she’d ever realize. The picture of a small child with AJ’s eyes and thick black hair popped into his head. The little boy stared back at him with sadness and accusation. He shook his head, banishing the image. That particular shadow belonged to him, not AJ. At least, he hoped that was the case.
He covered her hand with his. “Take it easy, sugar. We’ve got enough on our plates without borrowing more trouble. While you’re in there—” he nodded toward the bathroom “—why don’t you see if there’s any, um, evidence that you’ve had a child.”
She frowned, confused.
“Like stretch marks or, well, um, I don’t really know.” His words trickled to an awkward halt. A dull heat crept up his neck. When had he ever turned red-faced in front of a woman?
Understanding dawned and a blush darkened her face as well. She clutched the pile in her arms to her chest and backed into the bathroom. The door closed between them without either of them saying another word.
Ryan thumped his head on the doorframe. Dumb, dumb, dumb. He cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh, leave some clean clothes for you on the bed. In the guest room.”
A muffled “thanks” came from behind the door.
He didn’t tarry over finding clothes for her. Grabbing the first clean items that came to hand, he dropped them on the bed in the guest room and beat a hasty escape back to the kitchen.
AJ’s equipment still occupied the tabletop. He surveyed everything and shook his head. “Women and cameras,” he muttered. “Bound to bring nothin’ but trouble.”
Only, he had the distinct