The bark had been peeled back to reveal the soft wood beneath. Sweat dripped into her eyes. She dashed it away with the back of her hand. One of these days she’d remember to get herself a hat.
“What are you doing here?” Her feet dragged, creating trenches in the needles. “And why do I feel like I’m going to puke?” The nausea was a surprise. She stopped a foot away from the tree and placed both palms on the rough texture on either side of the heart. She understood what she saw on an intellectual level. C.N. + M.B. The letters were obviously initials. She traced each one.
C.N. Chase Nelson? That made sense. They were on his ranch, after all.
But M.B. made no sense. Unless…
Her newfound memories flipped past in a montage. Unless M.B. was exactly who her heart wanted it to be. Michelle Baker.
Her world whipped into a riot of color. She crossed her forearms over the heart and pressed her forehead into the carving.
This time the memory came in full color, scent, sound, and texture.
He finished the last line in her initials and closed the knife, sliding it into his pocket while turning to face her.
Arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to a solid chest. Even then, Chase smelled the same, a combination of horse and cedar.
“I love you, Michelle.” His voice rumbled in her ear with enough force that her head whipped around to see if he’d ridden up behind her as the memory unraveled.
She was alone with Beatrice.
His words soared through her, the memory continuing in slow motion. She covered her eyes with both hands to block out the sunshine and sink deeper into the memory.
His teenage features were softer. The line of his jaw not as defined, and he lacked the hardness in his eyes that she’d seen lately. And the love in those eyes. It was enough to take her out at the knees and send her crashing to the ground. Pinecones pricked her through her jeans.
She ignored the sting of pain and rocked forward to grab handfuls of pine and dirt.
How had she left that kind of love behind?
He knew why. “Sorry, Beatrice, but we’re cutting our ride short.” She jumped to her feet, and into the saddle. With barely a sound, she turned the mare toward home. Toward Chase and the ranch.
Beatrice’s slow walk helped her calm her stuttering heart and gather the courage she needed to tell Chase what she’d seen.
He waited for her at the fence; his hat tugged down low over his eyes and his stance too casual to be casual.
She let Beatrice walk all the way up to him before she stopped. Dirt covered her knees, and he raised his eyebrows in an obvious question. “I found something.” The memory tangled with the heart she’d found, and it all came out in a hurried explosion of words. She told him everything about the memory it had triggered. “I saw you carve the heart, then tell me you loved me.”
His jaw worked side to side, his body tensing. “You remember?”
“Just that memory and the others I’ve already told you about.” Accusation colored her tone. “It was you, in the other dream. You’re the one I loved.”
“Loved.” He said it with a harsh twist to his face.
“It was real, wasn’t it? Both of those are real memories of us saying we loved each other.”
His nod was so miniscule she’d have missed it if she wasn’t staring so hard. She dismounted and draped Beatrice’s reins over the top rail behind Chase.
“We had a relationship.” The look he sent her way was fraught with anguish. “And I want you to choose me again.”
It was the first time they’d confronted the feelings she’d sensed growing between them.
He took a step back when she moved forward. “Not like this. Not out of obligation because you’ve had those two memories come back.”
“It’s not obligation. I’m not that shallow.”
“No.” He agreed. “But you are in a fragile state. I say that intentionally. Your mind is trying to put all the pieces together.”
“We loved each other.” She said it for the sheer joy it brought her. She’d been in love with Chase. “What happened?”
