“I don’t know.”
She stalked toward him, a stiffness in her steps that carried her right up into his personal space. “Don’t lie to me.”
That was all it took to crush him.
He retreated, ducking between the rails so the fence separated them. “That proves we’re not ready to discuss this. You need time to process, and I need time to understand how much to tell you.”
“Everything. You need to tell me everything.” The need to know was a cloying, grasping thing that pushed and demanded until nothing else mattered.
Denial locked his eyes into a squint. “I don’t think so. And I have no idea what happened. Maybe you’ll be willing to tell me when you remember.”
It hit her with a savage punch to the gut and knocked the breath from her lungs. This was her fault. Their failed relationship was all on her.
No wonder she refused to remember that part. The love had eased her into thinking things were okay. Chase’s face told a different story. “That explains why you always retreat when we get too close. I broke your heart.”
She didn’t need his nod for confirmation. The next retreating step anchored the truth deep enough by itself. “I still have feelings for you.” Her body relaxed with the admission. “Even before my memories started coming back.”
“It doesn’t change anything.” Another step away from her increased the physical distance, but the emotional gap hurt more. “I want to give us a chance. And I will even if you never get your memories back, but that’s not a decision we can make right now.”
“You mean we can’t make a decision based on emotions that I might be confused about.” She wasn’t confused. How she’d felt about him that first week had grown every week since. If it wasn’t love, it was close. It had every chance of turning into love if he’d give them a chance. “What do you want from me?”
“Time.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets in a move she recognized. He’d done it countless times before, usually when she was distraught or highly emotional.
The feel of his arms around her in the memory warmed her skin, teasing her with the past and almost driving her over the fence to throw herself into his arms. He’d catch her. Even if it tore him apart, he’d catch her.
Andthatrealization gave her the strength to hold her ground. Whatever pain she’d caused him in the past lingered, and she refused to add to it with her desperation. “I need to put Beatrice in the barn.”
The mare stood dozing at the fence, her head hung over the rail and her eyes closed. One hind hoof was cocked, her weight leaning toward Michelle. She took her time picking up the reins, giving Beatrice time to wake up. She nosed Michelle’s pocket and followed at the softest touch.
Chase remained behind her. Maybe he watched her leave. Maybe he walked away. She didn’t have the courage to turn around and check.
Maude stepped out of the office as Michelle crossed into the dim lighting. The woman’s brows creased into a furrowed line. “Michelle?”
“Hi.” The fake brightness fell flat, and she shored up the frown, forcing it into an easy smile. “I did it. Rode out by myself.”
“Good for you.” Maude crossed the distance and hugged Michelle. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Pray for me. And Chase.” She blinked back the sting of tears. “We both need it.”
“Of course.” Maude—apparently she’d stopped thinking of her as Mrs. Nelson—patted Michelle’s back in a series of comforting strokes.
She pulled away and walked Beatrice to the crossties. Every movement of removing the mare’s saddle and rubbing her downhappened on autopilot. Chase showed her how days ago, and once she stopped trying to think about it, the motions came. Her mind spun back and forth between the memories and the past few weeks with Chase.
He wanted her to choose him. Done.
He wanted that choice to be made out of love and not obligation. Done. Mostly because she had no clue what he really meant by that. She didn’t feel obligated to him in the slightest.
“Maude?” She called out before Maude slipped back into the office.
“Yeah?”
Beatrice snuffled her pocket again, and she fed her a peppermint after removing the bridle. “Do you think it’s possible to love someone when you don’t know anything about yourself?”
“Love is a powerful, powerful thing.” Maude’s smile was tinged with her own pain. “It does not solve every problem, but it goes a long way when two people are willing.”
“Not sure that answers my question.” Didn’t it, though? If both she and Chase were willing to step out on faith and in love, then they had a shot. Sounded like good relationship advice for anyone, not just her with her complication of throwing amnesia into the mix.
Maude left, retreating to the office and leaving Michelle to her thoughts.
