husband.
According to her notes, separated but not divorced.
She didn’t believe in divorce—and she strongly felt that moral principle, the same way she still believed in God. Why she knew this when she couldn’t put names to the faces of those she supposedly knew best confused her even more.
It made no sense to her that she could know some things absolutely and know absolutely nothing about others.
If she didn’t believe in divorce, then why had she left this man—Tanner Hamilton?
She let that name roll around in her head for a moment, but again—nothing. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, her memories would just not come. And trying harder, straining her already overloaded brain to retrieve them, only gave her a migraine.
Rebecca was sure Dawn had explained to her at some point why she was no longer in a relationship with Tanner, but she hadn’t put an explanation in the notes on the phone and Rebecca couldn’t recall a reason. Nor could she remember why Dawn had refused to come with her back to her hometown. She only knew that where Serendipity and Tanner were concerned, she was here on her own.
Everything had been so vague since the accident, but she knew Dawn had been a good friend to her, so she couldn’t dismiss the nagging notion that her best friend did not like her husband, which she remembered from this morning when they’d had a heated discussion over why Rebecca should not return to Serendipity.
Dawn had reminded her that it was she who had stayed by her side the whole time, both in the hospital and afterward, caring for her and doing her best to supply the information Rebecca’s mind refused to provide. At this point, what else could she do but trust that Dawn was telling her the truth?
That, and the fact that she remembered who Dawn was from high school. It was only the recent years that were a complete blank to her.
But while her memories were MIA, her emotions were present and accounted for, almost more than she could handle. Part of her wished she’d never come back, and part of her wanted to run away again even now. She’d never felt more anxious and awkward in her entire life—or at least the part of her life she remembered.
After the hit and run, Rebecca had been in the hospital for two weeks, suffering from a blow to the head, two cracked ribs, a bruised wrist and a broken ankle. Her ankle had required reconstructive surgery which had included metal plates and pins. Dawn had been riding in the passenger seat in the car with her but, thank the good Lord, had only suffered from minor cuts and bruises.
The doctor had told Rebecca it would be a while before she completely recuperated physically. Even a month after the incident, Rebecca still felt achy and sore and had a hard time sleeping. Muscles ached where she didn’t even know she had muscles.
Ha. Amnesia joke. Her lips twitched despite her anxiety.
The biggest, most problematic injury had been her memory, which was now spotty at best and sometimes left her at a complete blank. She remembered how to read but the next day she wouldn’t be able to summarize what it was she’d read. She knew how to drive a car and had a handle on the rules of the road, but if she didn’t have her notes with her and the GPS from her cell phone she’d forget where she was going. And she didn’t even want to think about attempting to cook anything, even though she had a gut feeling she used to be someone who’d enjoyed spending time preparing meals. But now, if she wasn’t careful, she was liable to burn the whole house down when she forgot she’d put something in the oven to roast.
But the most frustrating thing of all was she had no memory of the past few years. Relationships. People. Nada.
At least her faith in God hadn’t left her, or she didn’t know how she would be able to deal with everything she was now facing. She’d been six months’ pregnant when the truck came out of nowhere and T-boned her sedan, and it was only an act of God that her baby was still safely cocooned in her womb.
No. Not her baby—
Their baby. The man standing in front of her was the baby’s father.
It frightened her to look into Tanner’s eyes and draw a complete blank. She had no memory of the man to whom she had once committed her heart and life. The man to whom she’d made sacred vows, and then, to her mortification and shame, had apparently found reason to break them.
That’s why she’d returned to Serendipity. To find this man, to connect with her past, in the hope that seeing her husband again would trigger her thoughts and memories to return.
She stared silently into the cowboy’s sad yet angry blue eyes, willing her memory to supply the information needed to appropriately place this tall, muscular man into the framework of her life.
He was definitely flummoxed by her question.
“Who am I?” He repeated her question incredulously. “Rebecca, what are you talking about?”
“I feel like I should recognize you,” she admitted, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks. “No. I know I should. But I—I’m sorry. My mind isn’t cooperating. I’d hoped—well, if anything would give my memory the jolt it needed to return, this would have been it. And yet I don’t know who you are, other than your name. Tanner Hamilton?”
His expression clouded with confusion.
“Of course, I’m—” He paused. “Wait. Are you trying to say you really don’t know your own husband?” He removed his hat by the crown and threaded his fingers through his thick blond hair.
He needed a haircut, Rebecca thought, but then realized what an odd observation that was for her to make. It was somehow...personal.
“Rebecca!” An older woman with her white hair pulled up high in a casual bun brushed past Tanner and tightly embraced Rebecca, tears flowing unheeded down her cheeks. A little blonde girl Rebecca guessed to be about three, who had been tightly grasping the woman’s hand, now skittered behind Tanner, clutching his leg and peeking out from behind his knee, clearly startled by the woman’s outburst.
“Honey, you’re home.” The older woman kissed Rebecca’s cheek and cupped her face in her hands. “Oh, Rebecca. I was so worried. What happened to you?”
Rebecca’s emotions resonated without prompting to this woman’s embrace. It was a childlike, natural response to the woman whom she knew without a doubt.
When Rebecca closed her eyes, she pictured a much younger version of this woman, without the lines of stress that now creased her forehead and eyes. In the picture in Rebecca’s head, her mother had the same bright auburn hair as Rebecca now possessed. She was making dinner in an old country kitchen, laughing and dancing with a handsome black-haired, blue-eyed man.
“Mama,” she whispered, and her heart concurred.
“You’re pregnant,” her mother exclaimed, immediately pressing a hand to Rebecca’s belly. “Oh, darling. The Lord blessed you and Tanner. I knew He wouldn’t let you two down.”
Tears pricked Rebecca’s eyes and she nodded. She didn’t miss the glance her mother flashed Tanner—one filled with something akin to fear.
But why would that be? Did her mother not consider this happy news because Rebecca and Tanner were at odds with one another?
A moment later, her mother’s gaze turned back to her and filled with such joy that Rebecca decided maybe she’d mistaken or misread what she thought she’d seen a moment before. Her mother looked radiant as she whispered to Rebecca’s womb, and Rebecca couldn’t help the soft smile that escaped her as she laid her hand over her mother’s and felt the baby kick.
Tanner didn’t appear to share the same enthusiasm. His brow lowered and his jaw ticked with strain.
“The baby is moving well?” he asked.
Rebecca wasn’t quite sure what he was asking, but apparently her mother did.
“Baby