Luck of the Draw Page 12

  She thought of that moment at the hospital when she’d heard her room door open and she’d looked up. She hadn’t been prepared to see Garrett Sterling standing there looking right at her. She’d met his blue gaze and felt her heart soar at just the sight of him—and drop just as quickly when she realized what it meant.

  She’d hurriedly closed her eyes, but she’d seen his expression and seen in all that blue that he knew not all of her memory was gone. She’d remembered him. And he’d remembered her.

  She’d thought he’d go to the sheriff. She’d been terrified. She’d learned the hard way that she couldn’t trust anyone, even the law. She’d ridden it out, hoping she could make Garrett doubt what he’d seen in her eyes. She didn’t want him involved and had foolishly thought she could protect him by lying once again.

  Garrett hadn’t told the sheriff, even though they seemed to know each other well. Because he couldn’t be sure that she remembered him? Or because he was protecting her?

  After what she’d done to him, why would he want to protect her? He’d protected her once and look where that had gotten him.

  It hadn’t been easy, pretending she didn’t remember the two of them together each time he’d walked into her hospital room. But not knowing how she’d ended up in the hospital in Whitefish, Montana, and how Garrett was involved, she’d had to keep silent to protect him. At least that’s what she told herself.

  Seeing him though had transported her back to those wonderful months they’d spent together. She’d never been happier. She remembered his touch, his scent, his words whispered in the night as they lay entwined in his bed. She’d drawn on every ounce of strength she could being around him and not giving herself away. If she gave him any indication that what he’d seen had been real, that she’d recognized him—

  When the sheriff told her that Garrett had saved her life, it had been all she could do not to scream. No. She’d left him all those months ago to keep him safe. She’d never wanted him involved in this part of her life. How was it possible that he was, suddenly after all this time?

  It seemed like a bad dream. And just when she was hoping to wake up, the sheriff had told her that Garrett was offering her a place to stay. On the Sterling’s Montana Guest Ranch she’d heard so much about. She’d heard the love in his voice when he’d described it to her back then. He had wanted her to come with him once he was out of law school in June. He was going to teach her how to ride a horse.

  She stared straight ahead now, her heart in her throat. Seeing the place, she couldn’t bear to remember that agonizing time with him when she’d known that none of that would ever happen because by June she would be gone from his life forever.

  Having heard so much about this guest ranch, she’d wanted to decline his offer. But she couldn’t say no. She had to get him alone. She had to tell him the truth. If she had any hope of keeping Garrett safe until she remembered...

  Not that she didn’t know what Garrett was after—answers. Well, so was she. She desperately needed to know what had happened to her before she’d looked up and seen him standing in her hospital doorway. Just as she had to know what she’d done.

  According to the sheriff, she’d been driving at a high rate of speed before the accident. Running after shooting a man she had no idea who he was? She needed to know how she’d gotten to Whitefish, Montana and why—since it was a place she’d sworn she’d never go.

  That this could get them both killed terrified her. But Garrett was already in too deep. She’d let the sheriff believe that she couldn’t remember anything. But she could never have forgotten Garrett Sterling.

  “Well, here it is,” he said as he stopped the pickup at the top of the rise to let her take in his family’s guest ranch.

  She could feel his intent gaze on her, knowing that he was looking for her reaction. “It’s beautiful,” she said truthfully. “You must love it.” When he said nothing, she glanced over at him. He was smiling, his eyes shiny bright with the knowledge that she was a liar and probably worse.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  GARRETT PULLED UP in front of the main lodge and cut the engine. Now that he was here, he wondered, what happened next. He’d told himself that once he got her up here and they were alone, he could get her to tell him the truth about everything. How exactly though, he had no idea.

  He glanced over at the woman he’d thought he knew so well and saw her taking in the lodge. It was a large log structure with huge glass windows in the front and a towering rock chimney. To the right of the lodge were nine small log guest cabins set some distance apart in the pines.

  “Will I be staying in one of the cabins?” Joslyn asked as she glanced in their direction.

  “No, we’ll be staying upstairs at the back of the lodge. There’s an apartment up there and a series of smaller suites that the family uses.” And of course, Dorothea, who was just like family, when she lived up here during the guest season. “I think you’ll be quite comfortable in one of the suites.”

  She nodded and smiled. “I’m sure I will be. I don’t see any men working today.”

  “It’s the weekend. They’re all off.” In fact, he expected them to finish Monday and then they would be gone for good.

  “I hadn’t realized it was the weekend, I guess.” She let out what could have been a nervous laugh—if he hadn’t known her better.

  “There are no guests now and probably won’t be for the rest of the summer. We had two fires back in March.” He wasn’t going to get into what had happened. “The large old barn had burned and so had cabin five. The construction crew is still finishing up. I figure they should be gone soon. Is that going to be a problem?”

  She turned to look at him. “Not for me.”

  “I thought you might say that,” he said, opened his door and climbed out. She didn’t give him a chance to come around to her side of the pickup to open her door. When he heard her exit, he headed up the steps and across the porch to the main lodge to unlock the door. Turning, he saw that she had stopped beside the pickup and was looking around. He watched her take it all in.

  Her face seemed to soften, her eyes shiny and bright. She seemed enraptured by the place, making him recall all the times he told her stories about his summers growing up here. They would have been curled up in bed after making love, naked and sated and blissful.

  He shook off that memory and reminded himself that none of that had been real. But as he watched her looking around, he would have loved to know what she was thinking.

  Or maybe scheming. With this one, he couldn’t tell. She’d agreed to come up here with him. She would have a plan. He would just have to wait to see what it was.

  “Come on in,” he said as if she were one of the guests. “Let me show you around, Joslyn.”

  * * *

  SHE HEARD CONTEMPT in the word. Joslyn. But she realized she might as well get used to being called by that name—at least as long as she was going to be here.

  The lodge was everything Garrett had told her and more, she thought as she took in the huge lounge area. An assortment of cozy leather furniture formed a half circle around the massive opening in the rock fireplace. All of it looked worn-soft and inviting.

  Native American rugs dotted the hardwood floor and some of the walls. Other walls held antlers and animal heads, Western paintings and what looked like relics. She felt as if she was breathing in Garrett’s past all the way back to his grandfather who had established the guest ranch here in the early part of the previous century.

  “This is the heart of the place,” Garrett said of the main lounge. She could feel him watching her, studying her reactions, trying to read her. It was disconcerting because he’d never been like this before. But then again, he’d never really known her, had he.

  “I love it.” She turned to him. “I hope we can have a fire even though it’s July.”

  He chuckled. “July i
n the mountains of Montana, you’re going to want a fire, trust me.” He seemed to realize what he’d said about trusting him. All humor left his face as he quickly added, “Then there is the dining room and kitchen.”

  She followed him through long log tables and chairs to what appeared to be a commercial kitchen. Everything sparkled. She loved how light and airy it was in here and said as much.

  “I’ve had food delivered so the fridge and freezer are well stocked. Do you cook?” He chuckled. “That’s right, you don’t remember. Well, you’re in luck because I’m the only one in my family who can boil water. I hope you like hard-boiled eggs.”

  “Sounds like we won’t starve.”

  “I promise not to let you go hungry.”

  She thought about the meals he used to make for her during the months they were together. He could do a whole lot more than boil eggs and they both knew it.

  He stood in the kitchen studying her in that bright light. She tried not to flinch under those laser-like blue eyes. Was he remembering their barbecues at night on his tiny porch? The two of them had been ravenous after lovemaking. She thought about the way they enjoyed the food and each other as they ate before cuddling up on his bed to watch a movie or listen to music on the nights he had to study. Her heart ached to go back. To do things differently, even though she knew it was impossible. She’d done the only thing she could have when she’d left him. But she doubted he would see it that way.

  Garrett cleared his throat as if he had remembered the two of them and the way it used to be. His blue gaze had warmed, then cooled again as he said, “I should show you to your suite.”

  She followed him back through the dining room and lounge and up the wide log-railed staircase to the hallway. Her room was only two doors down. He opened a door and gave her a slight bow. “See if this is going to work for you.”

  She stepped in, taking in the largest of the rooms at a glance. It was a sitting area with a flowered couch and chairs, everything much more feminine than she’d been expecting. There was a bookcase stacked with books and a reading lamp by the large comfy-looking floral print chair.

  “The bathroom is to your far left, bedroom right through that door.” She glanced in to see a queen-sized bed covered with a pretty star quilt. She took a peek into the bathroom. There was a claw-foot tub but also a shower behind glass doors. Everything looked updated and sparkling clean. She swallowed the lump in her throat. This was so much more than she deserved and they both knew it.

  Smiling she turned to him. “This is...” Her voice broke. “Thank you. It’s all...wonderful.”

  He nodded as if he doubted that was true. “You will notice there’s a phone but it only calls within the ranch. There’s a phone downstairs for calls outside the compound, but you shouldn’t need that since you have no one to call, right?” He continued without waiting for a reply. “There’s no television, no internet, no cell phone service. The idea of the guest ranch is to unplug, disconnect, get back to another time.”

  “Then it’s an ideal place for me to get my memory back, isn’t it.”

  He smiled at that, making it clear that he thought that too was a lie. That all of it had been a lie. She saw the bitterness, the hurt, the naked pain in his expression before he quickly hid it.

  “I’ll let you freshen up. I’m going down to the kitchen and make us something for dinner. I’d ask you if you’re allergic to anything or if there was anything you didn’t like—”

  “But what would be the point,” she said, tired of his sarcasm. She wanted to blurt it out, tell him everything. But she knew that when she did, that would be the end of it. The end.

  Selfishly, she wanted this time with him, even if she couldn’t touch him, kiss him, make love with him. Even if he stayed angry with her. No matter how long it was, she wanted—needed—to be near him. They would come for her soon enough. Until then, couldn’t she just enjoy being this close to him for a little while? What would it hurt?

  She knew the answer to that. There might not be time to tell him the truth. Or worse, not time to warn him.

  As much as she wanted this, she wasn’t sure how long she could go without telling him that, of course, she remembered him. She could never have forgotten him or stopped mourning the loss of him. She hadn’t been able to bear leaving him. Nor had she been able to leave a note. What could she have possibly said?

  If only she could open her heart to him. But if she told him that she remembered everything about the two of them, why would he believe that her real memory loss was only of the days before her accident? Why would he believe anything she said, given all her lies? She only had herself to blame for her lack of credibility.

  Take this time with him. Once you remember why you’re in Montana to begin with... As long as she remembered before it was too late.

  * * *

  IN THE KITCHEN, Garrett was stewing over the woman upstairs when he realized she was right behind him. He had warned himself not to turn his back on her once he got her to the ranch. And here he was, busy grating cheese, both hands busy. He felt himself freeze. At her light touch on his shoulder, he flinched in spite of himself.

  “What smells so good?” she asked, seeming to ignore his reaction to her touch.

  He wanted to say, “I’m making your favorite,” but in truth, he wasn’t sure even that hadn’t been a lie when they’d been together. “Chili and corn bread.”

  “It smells delicious. Is it your own recipe?”

  He smiled. She knew damn well that it was. He sobered though before turning to look over his shoulder at her. He wouldn’t have been surprised to see her holding one of the kitchen’s butcher knives. That thought was so messed up, he knew he had to stop thinking this way. Who knew how long they would be here together.

  “As a matter of fact, it is my own recipe,” he said. “It used to be one of the only things I knew how to make. You like to cook?” He pretended to catch himself. “Sorry.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “You can set the table.” He pointed to the cabinet. “Dishes over there. Silverware in that drawer. I thought we’d eat in front of the fire at that large square coffee table.”

  “When I came downstairs, I saw that you’d made a fire. Thank you. Eating in front of it sounds wonderful. That room is so huge and yet so cozy. I’m dying to sink into one of those leather chairs out there. Well, maybe not dying.”

  He ignored that, wondering if this was as uncomfortable for her as it was for him. He doubted it. She had the upper hand because she knew what was going on. He was stumbling around in the dark. “You’re about to get your chance to try out the furniture while you’re here.”

  He turned back to what he’d been doing, fighting hard not to remember the two of them on his apartment furniture in Missoula. It was college-student furnished, which had been fine with him. He wondered if she remembered the night they’d broken the bed.

  They’d tumbled to the floor, naked and still in the throes of passion to uncouple in throes of laughter before they’d finished making love on the floor.

  Behind him now, he heard her getting bowls and plates out, then silverware. At the sound of her retreating footsteps, he tried to relax. But when the timer went off on the oven, he jumped. Laughing, he shook his head. He reminded himself that he was going to be staying just down the hall from her for who knew how long.

  Who could blame him for being jumpy though? Add to his total lack of trust in this woman the fact that she’d just killed a man. Still, he had to stop being so paranoid. He suspected she might take some satisfaction in his being skittish of her. And satisfaction was the last thing he wanted to give her.

  * * *

  DEEP IN ONE of the leather chairs in front of the fire at the guest ranch, Joslyn had been so mesmerized by the flames that she hadn’t heard Garrett approach. Nor had she realized that she was unconsciously rubbin
g her hand along the smooth leather arm of the chair.

  When he cleared his throat, she started and she saw that it amused him. He didn’t want to be the only one edgy in this situation, she thought. He already knew she was a liar. She hated to think what else he thought her capable of. She was sure he would lock his door tonight. Maybe even keep a gun next to his bed.

  She thought of the bed they’d shared in his apartment just off campus. The bed had sagged badly, making them both end up wrapped in each other’s arms in the middle. She’d loved that bed. It had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done when she’d left it—and Garrett—behind. She hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since.

  “I hope you’re hungry.” He put down a large pot of chili, her favorite, and a pan of corn bread on two trivets on the table. “Not the fanciest meal you’ve ever had, I’m sure.”

  “The smell alone is making my stomach growl,” she said, sitting up as he filled her bowl and handed it to her. He scooped out a large piece of corn bread and put it on a plate for her. When she’d gotten down the dishes and utensils, she’d dug the butter out of the refrigerator and honey from a cabinet, knowing how much he liked both on his corn bread.

  Now she saw him eye the honey before his gaze rose to meet hers.

  “I saw the honey and butter after you said corn bread. I hope it’s all right,” she said, realizing her mistake. She shrugged. “It just seemed like a good idea.”

  “Great idea,” he said as he took a seat. “It’s how I like my corn bread, but then you would have no way of knowing that.”

  She watched him lather his corn bread with butter, then drizzle honey on it. “I would imagine you aren’t the only one who likes it that way.” He pushed the butter over to her, then the honey. She didn’t like either on hers and he would know that. Which explained why he was waiting to see what she did.