The Forgetful Fiancée

  The Forgetful Fiancée

  Kara Lennox

  Kevin thought he’d left Tara behind in Chicago. So what’s she doing in tiny Hardyville, Colorado, with a three-month-old baby, and no memory of their breakup?

  Kara Lennox

  The Forgetful Fiancée

  Chapter One

  "Deputy Rayburn? That woman at the hospital – she's awake and asking for you."

  Kevin Rayburn's heart quickened. "Me?" he spoke into the radio. "How does she even know me?"

  "Dunno. But I figured you'd want to know."

  "I'll be right there."

  Kevin turned onto the highway and accelerated toward Colby County Hospital. This was the first violent crime he'd had to deal with since moving to Hardyville, Colorado, less than a year ago, and it made his gut twist. He'd thought he'd left beatings and muggings behind in Chicago. Yet early this morning, he'd learned that a young woman had been found unconscious in a fast-food parking lot at the edge of town, her purse missing. One of the other deputies had taken the call, but since it was the biggest news in Hardyville all year, everyone was talking about it. The story had been especially intriguing because the unidentified woman had been clutching an infant, a baby boy who was unharmed in the attack.

  When he arrived at the hospital, Kevin was directed to the second floor where the mystery woman was being cared for. He hoped she had a clear memory of what had happened. Whoever the jerk was who'd hit her on the head, Kevin intended to catch him and make it clear that violence wasn't tolerated in Hardyville. His hometown, just sixty miles from Colorado Springs, was a throwback, a former gold-rush town that had never gotten caught up in the hustle and bustle of ski resorts. It didn't even have a Starbucks, and Kevin liked it that way.

  As Kevin approached the door to the woman's room, a feminine voice, sounding distressed, came from inside. "I don't understand this at all. Why am I so bloated? And what happened to my hair?"

  That voice. It sounded just like…but it couldn't be. Tara Satterfield would never set foot outside Chicago, unless it was to visit New York. She wouldn't be caught dead in "the sticks," as she referred to any place with a population of under a million. And she most definitely wouldn't be traveling with a baby. He'd never met a woman less…maternal.

  His heart ached, as it always did when he thought of Tara. Ruthlessly he pushed aside the memories that threatened to invade his peace of mind. Those were for later, when he was alone in his bed.

  "Maybe Deputy Rayburn can shed some light on things," another female voice said soothingly.

  Kevin knocked on the partially open door. "Someone call?"

  He stepped into the room – and received the shock of his life. It was Tara. Even with a black eye and a fat lip, and with her blond hair cut short, the woman lying in the hospital bed was unmistakably his ex-girlfriend. He hadn't seen her in almost a year, since he'd so abruptly left Chicago.

  "Oh, Kevin, thank God! What took you so long? Please, tell me what's going on."

  The nurse, who'd been changing a bandage on Tara's arm, looked at Kevin. "You know her?"

  "Yes, she's my – she's Tara Satterfield."

  Looking lost and scared, Tara reached for him, and reflexively he bent over the bed and hugged her. The feel of her, the smell of her hair, brought those painful memories screaming back into his head. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" The endearment slipped out without effort.

  "I think so. But how did I get here? Were we visiting your aunt?"

  Kevin reluctantly released her. "You don't remember?"

  "The last thing I remember is us going out to dinner with the Brinkmans. How long ago was that?"

  Good Lord. Kevin barely remembered that dinner, but it was at least a year ago.

  "Kevin?" Tara looked up at him with improbably green eyes. "Will you tell me what's going on? And what's with the khaki uniform?"

  Before he could answer, his Aunt Debra waltzed into the hospital room, a scrunched-up blanket in her arms. Debra had raised Kevin after his parents died, and he loved her fiercely. She was also a volunteer at the hospital and the town busybody. "Well, well, I heard through the grapevine you were awake and kicking," Debra said to Tara, her curly red hair bobbing as she walked. "I'm sure you're anxious to see this young man." She plopped the blanket onto Tara's lap. That was when Kevin realized it wasn't just a blanket.

  Tara looked at the sleeping baby as if it were an alien invader, making no move to touch it. "Excuse me? You must have the wrong room."

  The nurse and Debra exchanged worried looks. "Dearheart," the nurse said, "this is definitely your baby. At least, he was with you when you were found."

  Tara looked to Kevin for help. "Tell them, Kevin. Tell them there's been a mistake."

  Kevin was as shocked as Tara. He'd known the mystery woman had been found with a baby, but he'd forgotten about that once he'd realized the woman was Tara. The child appeared to be about three months old, which left Kevin with an inescapable conclusion: He was a father. Tara had borne him a child, though she hadn't seen fit to tell him about it.

  Tara felt like she was in the middle of some weird dream. She could make out every eyelash of the strange child the social worker had put in her lap; she could smell the antibiotic ointment the nurse had just applied to the scrape on her arm. But as hard as she tried, she couldn't remember how she had gotten to this hospital room in Hardyville, Colorado, a bazillion miles from her home in Chicago – and not a place she would go unless a team of mules were dragging her.

  They told her she'd been mugged. Someone had hit her over the head in a parking lot and stolen her purse, and probably her car, too.

  The baby stirred and started to fret. Instinctively Tara's arms went around him, and she realized with a bolt of clarity that yes, indeed, this was her child. Though she couldn't remember, this felt right. A recent pregnancy would explain why her body felt softer, not the reed-thin figure she remembered, and why she'd changed her hairstyle to something short and no-fuss.

  The woman who'd brought the baby looked anxiously at Tara. "Are you saying this isn't your baby? Because if it's not, I'd like to know -"

  "He's mine," Tara said with certainty, silently acknowledging the fact that she'd misplaced a good chunk of her memory. Maybe she didn't consciously remember this baby, but her instincts told her he belonged with her.

  The woman looked relieved. "I'll take him back whenever you're ready. I'm a volunteer here at the hospital, and I've been caring for him while you're -" Abruptly she looked over at Kevin. "Kevin, what are you doing here? You found the creep who hurt this lovely young woman, I hope."

  "This isn't just any lovely young woman," Kevin said, his voice curiously thick. "This is Tara."

  The woman's faded blue eyes bulged in surprise. "Your Tara?"

  Kevin nodded.

  Suddenly the woman was all smiles as she looked at Tara anew. "Oh my gosh, Tara! I'd hug you to pieces, but I don't want to hurt you, what with your injuries and all. I'm Kevin's Aunt Debra. It is just such a pleasure to finally, finally meet you."

  "Likewise," Tara said uncertainly. So this was the woman who'd raised Kevin. "Could…could someone please tell me what day it is?"

  "Why, Tuesday," Debra replied.

  "No, I mean, the date."

  "April first," Kevin said.

  "And the year?"

  Debra and the nurse both jerked in surprise at the question, but Kevin didn't. "It's 2002," he said, confirming her suspicions. She had lost an entire year of her life. And what a year it must have been, she thought, looking down at the baby.

  "I'll just go find your doctor," the nurse said as she briskly left the room.

  Aunt Debra gently smoothed Tara's hair. "Whatever's wrong, I'm sure living in Hardyvi
lle will set you straight. You probably just need to rest. "

  "I'm not going to live here," Tara objected, a little more strongly than she'd meant. She softened her voice and looked at Kevin. "Am I?"

  Kevin shrugged. He'd said precious little since coming into the room, making her wonder what was going on in his head.

  "Well, of course you're going to live here," Debra said. "That's what you were coming here for. To live in Hardyville and marry Kevin."

  Chapter Two

  Kevin started to object. Why would Aunt Debra tell Tara that the two of them were getting married? He and Tara had never broached the subject of marriage, much less agreed to it. In fact, they hadn't even seen each other since they broke up and he quit the Chicago police force to move here.

  Debra gave Kevin a warning look that caused him to hold his tongue. He would find out why she'd told such a whopper before calling her on it. He took his aunt by the arm. "Excuse us a minute, Tara." Then he none-too-gently dragged Debra out of Tara's hospital room into the corridor. "What was that all about?"

  "Oh, Kevin, don't you see? This is a golden opportunity. You've been mooning over Tara ever since you got here. Whenever I urge you to try and make up with her, to convince her to move to Hardyville and be with you, you say it's impossible. She loves Chicago, hates small towns. Well, now fate is stepping in. She was coming here for some reason. My guess is that she wanted to introduce you to your son…he is your son, isn't he? I mean, you and Tara didn't break up because she was carrying some other man's -"

  "He's mine," Kevin acknowledged. God, she had to have already been pregnant that night they broke up. Why hadn't she told him? Then again, he was glad she hadn't. After the events at work that day, he'd been perilously close to a mental meltdown. Shocking news like impending fatherhood might have sent him over the edge. Anyway, he'd been behaving like such a psychotic jerk, no wonder she'd said nothing about the baby.

  "Then who knows?" Debra continued. "Maybe Tara was coming here, hoping you'd make an honest woman out of her."

  "But we can't just lie to her and pretend that's the case," Kevin said reasonably, although he couldn't deny that the idea of marrying Tara and having her settle down here with him would be all he'd ever wanted. And a baby, a son…that part was pretty overwhelming. No, terrifying. But he would do right by the child. He had to.

  "We won't lie for long," Debra said. "She's going to have to stay here a while anyway, to recuperate. She's not in any shape to rush back to Chicago and resume work and single motherhood. She needs rest, and Hardyville is the best place for that. Don't you agree?"

  He couldn't argue with Debra's logic. His hometown, nestled in the foothills of the Rockies, was a healing place, with its friendly people and laid-back pace, picture-postcard vistas in every direction.

  "You said she hates small towns, but she's never lived in one like Hardyville. Once she gives it a chance, she'll want to stay. And marry you. And then it won't be a lie anymore."

  "I won't actually marry her under false pretenses," Kevin said.

  "You won't have to. We'll tell her the truth after a couple of weeks – that we simply didn't know why she was here. Then, if she's not convinced this is the place for her, she can go home."

  Yeah, she'll go home madder than hell at me for lying, Kevin thought. Tara might never speak to him again. But was that any worse than the way things had been over the past year?

  * * *

  Two days later, Tara was released from the hospital, and her memory of the past year still hadn't returned. Her doctor said it might never, but chances were that bits and pieces would start to float into consciousness. She hoped so. She hated to think of never remembering her pregnancy, or giving birth to Andrew.

  Andrew. She'd had to ask, with some embarrassment, what her own baby's name was. Kevin had told her she'd named the baby after her father, who had died three years ago. That had sounded right, she'd thought, gradually coming to terms with the fact that she was a mother. Debra had been bringing Andrew to the hospital for long visits. Tara had amazed herself by knowing how to diaper and feed and burp Andrew without any instruction, but she had no idea how she knew.

  As Kevin drove her home from the hospital, she peppered him with questions. "I became pregnant by accident, right?"

  "Yes."

  "Why didn't we get married sooner?"

  "We didn't want to rush into anything."

  That seemed odd. She recalled the night they'd had dinner with their married friends. That was the first time it hit had her that she wanted to marry Kevin, and she'd been wondering how to broach the subject. She must have discovered her pregnancy soon after. So Kevin must have been the one who was marriage shy. She had a hard time imagining Kevin, always so responsible and duty-bound, hesitating to take responsibility for his child.

  "We also disagreed about where to live," Kevin continued. "I was sick of Chicago and all the violent crime. I wanted to raise our child somewhere more wholesome. You were dead set against leaving Chicago."

  "I changed my mind, though?" She supposed she must have.

  "Hardyville is a fine place to raise children," Kevin said. It didn't escape her attention that he hadn't actually answered her question. Had he coerced her into moving here? She couldn't imagine that, either.

  "I moved here first and got settled. You were finishing up some big contracts and arranging for Cindy to take over your clients." Cindy was Tara's partner in an interior design firm.

  "Did I sell my condo?" Tara asked with a wave of sadness. She loved her condo, having furnished it with loving attention to every detail from the hardwood floors to the switch plates.

  Kevin hesitated. "It hasn't sold yet."

  She felt relief when she knew she shouldn't have. She'd made a commitment, and there was no turning back.

  "Do we have a wedding date?"

  "Uh, yeah. June first."

  "Is that a Saturday?"

  "Well, we haven't actually picked an exact day," he qualified. "But some Saturday around June first."

  "Oh. So I haven't actually made any plans?"

  "You thought it might be easier to wait until you were actually here."

  "Two months isn't very long." Oh well, she'd never wanted an elaborate wedding.

  She studied Kevin in profile, acknowledging the changes in him. His wavy hair was longer than he'd worn it on the Chicago police force. His face was more tanned, as if he'd spent more time outdoors. He was also a bit leaner, harder, filling out his khaki uniform in intriguing ways.

  But the real change was his eyes. Still dark brown, still deep enough to drown in. But they carried a wariness that seemed alien to Tara, like he'd shuttered a part of himself off from the world – from her.

  Uneasy, she looked out the window at…nothing. Oh, there were fields and trees and mountains and blue sky, all very pretty. So pretty, in fact, that it didn't seemed real. Where were the people? They'd hardly passed another car on the dinky road into town, much less passed a pedestrian.

  Already she was homesick. She loved Chicago, with its hustle and bustle, the noise, the traffic, the skyscrapers. She loved the nightlife, and the fact that she could get Chinese food at two in the morning, if she wanted. She loved being able to hop on the subway and go anywhere she wanted, or waste a whole Sunday afternoon in a museum.

  "Does Hardyville have any museums?" she asked impulsively.

  Kevin laughed. "Not unless you count the collection of elk antlers on the wall at the Hole-In-Your-Shoe Saloon."

  "You're making that up. There's no such place."

  "I'll take you there tonight."

  Oh, God. How was she going to survive?

  Chapter Three

  Tara glanced over her shoulder at Andrew, sleeping peacefully in the back seat of the police cruiser as Kevin drove them home from the hospital. For him, she thought. She would cope with her life's changing circumstances for Andrew's sake. Urban Chicago was a great place for an adult, but not a child. A child needed green grass und
er his feet and places he could roam without fear of being hit by a bus. A child needed fresh air, at least. And a child needed a father.

  Kevin looked over at her and immediately sobered. He must have caught the dismal expression on her face. "C'mon, Tara, it's not that bad. We're an hour from Colorado Springs, which most definitely has museums."

  "Kevin? Where's my stuff?"

  "What stuff?"

  "You know, all the things from my apartment. My furniture, my clothes, my dishes…"

  "In storage. Well, some things you brought with you, I'm sure, but they were stolen with your car."

  That seemed strange. If she was moving here for good, she would have brought her furniture with her. She shuddered to think about the interior of Kevin's house, her future home. He was color-blind. She could only hope his Aunt Debra helped him decorate.

  "Maybe I was driving a U-Haul truck," she thought aloud, but that only made her more depressed. Her beautiful designer furniture could be in Mexico with her mugger by now.

  "You flew to Colorado Springs and rented a car – that much we've figured out. Don't worry, sweetheart, we'll catch the guy."

  For no reason at all, tears sprang to Tara's eyes. She hadn't cried since waking up in the hospital to discover her life was upside down, but all at once it got to her. She wanted her old life back. She wanted her cell phone and her Rolodex, her big-screen TV with the satellite connection and two hundred channels. She wanted her Daytimer packed with appointments. She wanted…oh, she didn't know what she wanted.

  Kevin noticed a strange noise coming from the other side of the car. "Are you crying?"

  "Yes, and just let me, okay?"

  "No, it's not okay." He couldn't remember ever seeing Tara cry. He pulled the cruiser over to the side of the road, cut the engine, unfastened his seat belt, and scooted next to her on the bench seat. He put his arms around her and held her close, murmuring gentle, soothing phrases as she cried on his shirt.