kept trailing back to Kylie Brewer. He’d seen that look in other eyes, that look of a terror that wouldn’t quite go away no matter how safe the situation. He’d seen that terror break grown men when it wouldn’t quit.
He hoped it wouldn’t break Kylie. Hell, she couldn’t even remember what had put it there, but that fear had evidently been stamped on her soul at a level so deep no memory was needed.
He hoped Glenda understood that. But how could she? She’d probably never dealt with anything like this.
But he had. A sigh escaped him as he pulled up in front of the diner. He would only be here a few weeks, but he felt an unexpected need to try to help Kylie in some way.
Fear like that wouldn’t just wash away. Sometimes it took years to drain. But maybe he could help it on its way.
Then he wondered if he was going to spend his time off by setting himself a new mission. It wouldn’t surprise him. He could have laughed at himself.
* * *
Glenda used the time to get Kylie settled into her old bedroom. She noted the way Kylie moved around, touching things, items that Glenda had taken care to put exactly where they had been before Kylie had moved out, including her pile of stuffed animals. The doc said she needed familiarity, so Glenda had ensured it was there.
She was relieved to see her sister’s face relaxing as she caressed various items. “I can’t believe it’s still the same.”
“No reason to change it,” Glenda half lied. “Your house, too.”
Kylie sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t remember,” she said finally. “I barely remember Brad, except what you told me about him, and your divorce...”
“Was about as ugly as they come,” Glenda answered frankly. She sat in the Boston rocker facing the bed. “I wish I could forget it.”
“But why so ugly?”
“Brad.” Glenda shrugged. “Apparently it wasn’t enough to leave me—Brad wanted to gut me, too.”
“Did he succeed?”
“Maybe a little. Anyway, he’s gone.”
She watched Kylie look down and run her fingers over the quilt that their grandmother had made. Then Kylie spoke. “You interested in Coop?”
Glenda blinked, then laughed almost helplessly. “Hell, no. He’s nice and everything, but Brad kind of killed my interest in the whole idea of happily-ever-after.”
Kylie sighed and returned her gaze to her sister. “That seems so wrong.”
“I’ll get over it. Once the stitches come out of the scars.”
That elicited a small, welcome laugh from Kylie. “Still? What an image.”
“Well, I’m a nurse, and that’s how I feel sometimes. I’m glad you weren’t around for it. I’d probably have soured you on half the human race.”
“You were angry?”
Glenda had to remind herself that Kylie wouldn’t remember any of this. Not a thing. All those furious phone calls, nasty texts, the bellyaching...all of it erased for Kylie except for the brief updates Glenda had given her while she packed Kylie for this move. And there didn’t seem to be any point in filling in more of the blanks. Some things were better forgotten.
“I was very angry,” she said finally. “Still am sometimes. But it doesn’t matter. What was it Grandma used to say? Good riddance to bad cess?”
Another sound of amusement escaped Kylie. “I’d almost forgotten she said that.”
“Well, I’ve had a million reasons to remember it thanks to Brad. At least he had the decency to move to San Francisco. Although I guess that means I’ll never visit the place now.”
Kylie tilted her head, smiling faintly. “It’s a big city. You’d probably never run into him.”
“Just my luck that I would.” But Glenda noted that despite her smile, a shadow moved over Kylie’s face. Probably thinking about visiting strange cities didn’t feel good right now.
While she spent a lot of time with Kylie being upbeat and cheerful, she was concealing a whole lot of concern for her sister. The amnesia was a worry because it resulted partly from brain damage. And while the neurologists had felt that the brain would reconstruct a great many connections with time, there could be repercussions that nobody had discovered yet. And then there was the whole big future facing her, with the loss of her dreams and no apparent desire to start them over again.
Aw, hell, Glenda thought. Too bad life didn’t provide magic wands. Somehow she didn’t think this journey of recovery was going to be easy for Kylie. Not one little bit.
It wasn’t as if Kylie could even go back to work as an RN. Not yet. Not until they could be sure what she’d forgotten and what she hadn’t, and whether there were other as yet undetected problems.
But that could wait. In the meantime, Glenda decided, her sister needed some kind of equilibrium, and she hoped she could provide it here.
Then they could worry about everything else.
After Glenda left for work, Kylie sat in the living room and found herself wishing Coop was there, stranger though he was. She hadn’t been alone for more than a minute or two since her attack. Either in the hospital, or later when Glenda had brought her back to her apartment to pack, the only solitary time she had experienced had been in the bathroom or when her sister went out to grab food.
She wasn’t enjoying it. As the evening shadows lengthened and day faded into night, her skin began to crawl. She knew she was safe here, in her own home, miles away from the attacker who had nearly killed her, but some part of her seemed unable to believe it yet.
Time, she reminded herself. Time would help her get past the unreasoning fear. There was no reason whatsoever to believe that her attacker would even look for her again. None. The cops had told her that. It wasn’t as if she could identify the man who did this, and they’d made sure word had gotten out through the press that she had amnesia. To protect her. She should feel grateful for that, but instead she felt as if her failings had been announced to the world. See Kylie Brewer, the woman with amnesia. God.
The knock on the front door shocked her, and a spear of terror ripped through her. For long moments she couldn’t even move as her heart raced and her mouth turned dry.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said aloud in a muffled voice, her tongue practically sticking to the roof of her dried mouth. “You’re home. No one outside this town knows where you are. It’s just a neighbor.”
The knock came again. She had to answer it. Someone might be looking for Glenda. It could be important. Or maybe it was Coop, locked out. She had no idea whether Glenda had given him a key.
On stiff legs that didn’t want to move easily, she rose and walked toward the front door. Her feet felt leaden. Shaking, she finally turned the latch on the dead bolt and opened the door.
A familiar, smiling face greeted her. Todd Jamison, a man she had known most of her life, one she had dated in high school. Surprise replaced shock and she gaped at him. “Todd?”
His smile was warm. He was still a handsome man, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a white dress shirt with his jeans. “Hey, Kylie. I heard you were back and I wanted to see with my own eyes that you’re okay. Is that all right?”
Knowing him eased her fears. Not that she felt entirely comfortable—in fact, she felt edgy—but she couldn’t blame him for that. Nor could she slam the door in his face when he’d been kind enough to come by and check on her.
“I’m tired,” she admitted honestly,