“Thank you for letting me discover this on my own.” She released his hand. “I’ve been a brat about it, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it is. I tried to make myself remember. I tried to guilt you into telling me. I’ve been too hard on you. It’s up to me to remember, and I’m not leaving here until I do.”
“Hereor…” He turned a half circle with his hands held out.
She smacked his wrists. “I’m not leaving town.” A tiny, barely-there shrug, then, “Who knows. I might not leave at all.”
Those were the words he’d longed to hear. He couldn’t allow them to be real. He’d promised not to push her. Whether it was a kiss or letting himself believe she’d stay, until she remembered everything, he had to be ready to let her go.
Even after she remembered everything.
He’d thought he knew what to pray for, but with the path splitting into so many dangerous twists and turns, he gave up trying to alter the course of his future.
It’s in Your hands, God.
Chapter Eleven
Something shifted that day on the hiking trail. She’d tried to put a word to the emotion that whipped through her four days ago when she took Chase’s hand. It was familiar but frightening.
The skip in her pulse contrasted with the way her throat had seized like all her air refused to move, a sensation of drowning had invaded. She’d released his hand, and it had all gone away. Her comment about not leaving Blue River battered around in her skull the rest of the afternoon, through the night, and in the following days. What would she do here if she decided to stay?
The Bible she’d been reading lay open on her nightstand. She flipped onto her back, pulling the Bible up to her bent knees. Chase’s favorite verse stretched across the page. When she’d flipped the Bible open to search for it, she’d found it already highlighted in yellow. She read them to herself. “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us,”The words reflected in the light from her bedside lamp, and she ran her thumb back and forth over the words. They were smooth, the glossy paper giving her nothing.
“What does it mean?” She asked the empty room in a whisper. The space comforted her. Yvonne had given her a room that faced the back of the house. It overlooked a small playground, though Michelle had never been around to see kids playing since she spent her days at the ranch. “’Now unto him that is able’ seems pretty self-explanatory. I’m not able to force my memory to come back. Everything comes back to that. Him…God?”
The headache that had started not long after her previous memory spiked a new pain through her temples. She closed her eyes and leaned into the downy pillow. “What am I doing here. This is starting to feel pointless.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. No more pity parties. She wasn’t happy in the city. Six months of memories are enough to tell her that she despised it there. And if she had liked her job before, she didn’t anymore. Was there something that kept her there?
Please, give me something back. I’m learning more about you and this books says you love me…please?
Nothing happened. No flashes of light or booming voices. No memories to tell her what to do next. Frustration reached a tipping point, but she pushed it back down. Stress and anger were not her friends. The doctors had told her not to try and force it. They’d warned it would be difficult.
They hadn’t told her it would feel like having her entire identity torn away, her life ripped to pieces as though she’d never existed.
Was that why she’d fallen in love with Blue River? People here knew her. They commented how good it was to see her again. Chase treated her like a friend. Aunt Sarah kept her company. Even Maude stepped in and offered friendship. She had a church where she felt comfortable. If she’d ever had that in the city, there was no evidence of it in her apartment. She’dsearched the entire thing from floor to ceiling and found almost nothing to explain her years spent there.
Her eyes closed. Sleep crept in, slow at first and then in a crushing wave that yanked her under.
Color exploded and spread, painting a scene before her.
She sat on the back of a truck, her legs swinging free over the tailgate. Winter air cooled her cheeks. Her head shifted to the right, and the outline of a profile came into view. The sun set on the other side of the man, casting his entire face in shadow.
Long fingers were interlaced with hers, the blunt nails clean and neat. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.
Butterflies spasmed and twisted in a riot that sent her leaning into his shoulder. “I love you.” The words felt familiar…like she’d said them before. Her skin warmed when his other hand lifted and he brushed a piece of hair from her cheek. The rough edge of a callus scored her skin.
She leaned into the touch. “I wish this could last forever.”
“It can.” His voice sounded off, muffled.
She sighed and pressed her cheek harder into his shoulder. The red plaid shirt was smooth beneath her cheek. When he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, the cowboy hat wobbled before nesting into place at her neck.
Home.
The word crushed her heart and twisted her stomach. This was where she belonged. It always had been. She loved sitting here on these late nights after the work was finished. He never made her feel like her dreams were impossible. That small voice in the back of her mind teased that there might be something better out there, something she’d never find if she stayed in Blue River.
