The Bride with No Name. Marie Ferrarella

or emotional,” the doctor explained. “In either case, most people suffering from that recover their memories in a few days.”

      Venus zeroed in on the crucial word. “Most people, but not all.”

      “No, not all,” the doctor freely admitted. He glanced at the chart again, then placed it at the foot of her bed. He looked at Trevor as he continued, “But there’s no reason to believe that you won’t.”

      “Are there people who never recover from amnesia?”

      The emergency room physician appeared reluctant to comment on her question. Venus waited for an answer.

      “Every now and again, yes, a few never recover their memory. But again, there’s no reason to believe that you’ll number among them.” A hint of a smile creased his thin lips. “You’ll get your memory back.”

      That wasn’t enough. She needed facts. “Give me a good reason to believe that I will.”

      The doctor seemed weary. It was apparent that he wasn’t accustomed to justifying his opinion, but he humored her.

      “Well, you’re young, healthy and in very good physical condition. Those are the best conditions. Give yourself a little time.” He glanced at the man beside her, silently enlisting his aid. “Nearly drowning is a pretty intense experience.”

      A restlessness continued to consume her. “So’s not knowing who you are.”

      The doctor took a step away from the bed, as if ready to move on. “Well, know this. You’re a very lucky young lady that this man was there to save you.” He addressed his next words to Trevor. “She needs to come back in two weeks if she isn’t herself by then.” Taking out his prescription pad, he wrote something down on the top page, then tore it off. He held the page out to Trevor. “These are to deal with the pain should she have any,” he added. “Feel better,” he said, then walked quickly away.

      Leaning over, Venus took the prescription from Trevor. Not a single word of it made any sense. Just like the jumbled mess in her brain. She sighed. “He seems to think you’re in charge of me.”

      Trevor tried to lighten her obvious dour mood. “Maybe he’s aware of the custom I told you about earlier. I saved your life, now it’s mine to protect and do what I want with.”

      Folding the prescription, she started to put it in her pocket, only to realize that she had no pockets and no other place to put the folded piece of paper. With another sigh, she held the prescription out to him.

      “I guess you get to hang on to this until I can get a purse—which I can’t because I have no money, no identity,” she realized. Venus bit the inside of her lip to keep from uttering a string of less than flattering words about her dilemma.

      “Sit tight,” he instructed, “I’ll get this filled for you at the hospital pharmacy.”

      “Wouldn’t they be closed?” She looked at a wall clock directly to her right. “It’s after midnight.”

      “The hospital pharmacy is opened twenty-four/seven,” he assured her. “My whole family uses this place. Can’t get better care than here.”

      She nodded as she slid off the side of the bed.

      He stopped walking away. “What are you doing? I just said—”

      “I’m coming with you.” There was no room for debate. Her tone was firm. “And then, after we fill that, we can leave. The sooner we get out of here, the better.” When she saw him eyeing her quizzically, she told him, “I don’t like hospitals. I don’t know why I don’t, but I don’t.” And then she hesitated. Nothing about her was written in stone, she thought helplessly. “At least, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

      Trevor could empathize. If he were in her place, if the family he loved were erased from his mind, he wouldn’t know how he would cope. “It’ll all clear up soon,” he promised.

      “I’ll hold you to that,” she murmured.

      Trevor cut off the engine. They were here. At the homeless shelter, the one he donated all his leftovers to. The one Kate volunteered at whenever her schedule permitted and where he, his brothers, sister and parents had spent more than one Thanksgiving working the kitchen.

      St. Anne’s was clean, had been renovated less than two years ago and the staff consisted of kind, decent people. There was no reason in the world for him to hesitate in bringing Venus here. They’d take good care of her. They were accustomed to helping the lost, though she was just a little more lost than most.

      And yet, he did hesitate. Maybe because St. Anne’s was a homeless shelter and somehow, that very fact seemed demoralizing. Venus had already been through enough tonight.

      “You’ll be all right here,” he told her, trying to convince himself more than her.

      She nodded. “You already said that. Twice.” She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the latch inside the car. But as she began to open the passenger door, Trevor suddenly stepped on the accelerator. They were moving away from the curb.

      “Hey,” she protested, pulling the door shut. “What are you doing?”

      “Taking you someplace else” was all he said.