Читать книгу The Princess Has Amnesia! - Patricia Thayer - Страница 10

“I don’t know who I am,” she said, still not believing it.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to remember something. Blank. Nothing. It was as if someone had erased everything in her brain. And she had absolutely no idea who she was. She looked at the stranger. “How can that be?”

His dark eyes studied her. “I’d say that nasty bump on your head might have something to do with it. You’ve been through a lot in just a few hours.”

She reached up and touched the tender area. “How did I get it?” One of a thousand questions she needed answers to. “How did I get here? Oh, God! Where am I?”

“Now, slow down. I’ll tell you as much as I can,” he promised. “You’re in a remote part of the Cambrian Mountains in Wales. Your plane lost power and came in for a crash landing.” He nodded toward the German shepherd lying by the fire. “Max woke me up and we tracked the location. By the time we got to the crash sight, you had wandered off. It took us awhile to find you, but thanks to Max again, we located you under some trees. Then I brought you back here to the cabin.”

Then he stripped her naked, she thought. None of what the man said stirred her memory. “Surely there was someone with me. Please, don’t tell me I was flying the plane.”

He glanced away, then back to her. “No, there were two men inside, the pilot and copilot. I’m sorry. They didn’t make it. As far as I know, you’re the only survivor.”

Dead. Two people were dead. She waited to feel something for the men, but nothing. She was almost ashamed of her lack of emotions. The victims could have been her friends, or members of her family.

Jake got to his feet and walked to the stove. He wanted to give her some space to sort things out. She’d had a terrible shock. Not only had her plane fallen out of the sky, she might have lost someone special to her. And when her memory returned, she’d have a lot to deal with. Something he knew about all too well.

“Did I have a wallet on me, or something that had any identification?” She looked like a waif as she brushed her tangled brown hair from her face and clutched the warm blanket like a lifeline. She was so damn appealing he had trouble speaking.

“I didn’t have much time to search the plane. The storm had worsened and once I found you, I thought best to get you somewhere dry. The temperature dropped ten degrees before we made it back here. You were pretty chilled. The only thing you have that might give a clue to your name is the charm around you neck. There are three initials, A.N.A., or it could also stand for the name Ana.”

She frowned. “Can we call the police or a forest ranger? Somebody?”

“Not possible. You picked a remote place to land. I have an off-road vehicle, but the road here washed out yesterday when this storm hit.”

“How will anyone find me?” Panic clouded her eyes, along with pain.

“If your pilot radioed his location, someone should be looking for you. But that could take a few days with these conditions.”

Jake turned to the sink, grabbed the pump handle and primed it until water shot out of the faucet. This place didn’t have any modern conveniences. Hell, it didn’t even have many of the basics. That was the charm for Jake. To be as far away from the world and its problems as he could get. But it looked like one of them had found him.

He filled the glass, took two ibuprofen from the first-aid kit and walked back to her. “Here, take these. They should help take the edge off.” He offered her two tablets.

She looked confused.

“They’re just over-the-counter painkillers. Can’t hurt you. Go on, take them. Your head has to be killing you.”

“It’s like someone’s using it as a drum,” she admitted, then took the medication and drank thirstily from the glass. She gave it back to him. “Thank you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to get dressed,” she said haughtily. “Would you please find me something to wear?” She looked down at the blanket.

The burning wood in the fireplace crackled and sparks shot out. The last thing Jake needed was to be reminded she was naked underneath, especially since he was the one who helped her get in that condition. His fingertips still could recall the feel of her soft skin. Forget it, Sanderstone, this woman’s trouble. You don’t mix well with the pampered princess type.

“I hate to disappoint you, but until your clothes dry out all I can offer you is one of my shirts and a pair of sweatpants.”

There was that defiant look again, then her features softened. “I’ll be appreciative of anything you can lend me.”

Jake went into the bedroom and pulled a faded chambray shirt from the closet and a pair of black sweatpants. He returned and handed the items to her.

She glanced around. “Is there some place I can wash up?”

“Sure. In the sink. But I wouldn’t suggest you exert yourself just yet. Remember you have a concussion.”

“I know I will feel much better if I can clean up some.” She tried to stand, but stumbled.

Jake reached out and caught her as she was about to go down. He wrapped his arms around her, trapping the downward slide of the blanket. The cloth barely covered her breasts and their fullness threatened to spill out. Oh, Lord help me.

“Okay, let’s get something straight. Until you can stand on your own, I’ll take care of you.”

“But…”

“There are no buts. I’m the boss here. If you want, I’ll let you arm wrestle me for the job.” He cocked an eyebrow to see how far she’d fight him.

“Not fair,” she mumbled.

“Well, hell, who told you life is fair?” He knew firsthand how ugly it could be out there in the trenches, starting with a childhood that had been spent on the rough side of New Orleans.

He liked it better here…alone.

“If only I could remember…something, my name,” she said.

“How about I just call you, sugar?” He grinned.

“Don’t you dare. It sounds like a country-and-western song.”

“Well, now is your chance. You pick a name.”

She fingered the charm around her neck. “How about Ana?”

She looked up at him with those rich blue eyes and instantly he knew that was her name. It fit her. Fit her beauty…her courage…even her irritating stubbornness.

Never wavering from her mesmerizing gaze, he took the shirt and held it out for her. She managed to slip one arm into the sleeve while continuing to grasp the blanket. Then he wrapped the shirt around her back and she put her other arm in. He closed the front and did up the buttons. Once he finished, the blanket fell to the floor. Oh man, this woman was going to make him crazy. “I have socks for your feet.”

He guided her to the couch and sat her down, then went back to the bedroom. He rummaged through his drawers and found the last clean pair of white athletic socks. He needed to do laundry. He returned to the couch to find his guest curled up on her side, sound asleep. She had gone through a lot of trauma this morning. Maybe it was a blessing she couldn’t remember what happened in the crash. Life’s tragedies often turned into nightmares.

Trying not to disturb her sleep, he worked the socks over her dirty, but delicate feet. There was dried mud on her calves too, but she could wash up later, he thought, tugging the white fabric up her shapely leg.

“Seems we’re getting pretty familiar, sugar.” He smiled, but didn’t feel any mirth. She hadn’t liked him calling her that. Good. It made her angry. That’s exactly what he wanted. For her to stay distant and as far away from him as possible. He listened to the rain, hoping it would let up and things could get back to normal. That someone would come looking for the plane and her, soon.

It had been awhile since he had taken care of anyone. Not since his mother. Memories of their crummy apartment flooded his head. The smell of alcohol, his mother’s slurred words as she tried to apologize for not bringing home any food for him. At only ten years old, he’d learned quickly to fend for himself, not to depend on anyone.

Jake had made a point of being independent. Meg had been the closest he’d come to a relationship and that had been a mistake, too. They’d been partners in the bureau. He was a twelve-year veteran. He should have seen the danger, he should have been able to save her. Instead, he let his guard down and allowed her to walk into a trap.

Pain and regret washed over him, constricting his chest as he watched the mystery woman sleep. He didn’t want to be responsible for anyone again. That’s why he’d come here. Far away from country and duty, to figure out his plans for the rest of his life. All he knew was that his career with the bureau was over. He’d specialized in terrorism and worked undercover. He had seen too much ugliness and total disregard for human life. He just hadn’t had the stomach for it anymore. After handing in his resignation, he’d had no trouble walking away.

Through an acquaintance, he’d heard about Wales. So he packed up and traveled to the Welsh countryside. He liked hiking in the mountains. Then he’d found this remote cabin where he could be by himself, and over the past four months, he’d been able to get through most days. He still had the nightmares and he’d gotten lonely some times, but he was staying.

He covered his guest with a blanket and put another log on the fire, then walked out the door to feed the horses. He only hoped that he was going to get back his solitude. Real soon.

“Wake up, Ana. Come on. Open those pretty blues for me.”

Ana stirred and tried to shove at the hand on her arm. “Go away.”

“Sorry, can’t do that.”

Her head was pounding as she rolled over. “Go away, Rory. I want to sleep.”

“Can’t do that,” he said, in a voice that was low and smooth as velvet. “So Rory will have to wait.”

Slowly Ana came out of her fog and she opened her eyes. The man before her was familiar, but he represented what she didn’t want to remember. A plane crash, two dead men and no memory of who she was or if anyone was even looking for her.

“What do you want?”

“I need to check your pupils,” he said.

She slowly and carefully made it into a sitting position, mainly to get away from him. “What?”

“Your eyes. You have a concussion. I let you sleep a few hours, but you need to be awake now.”

“Okay, I’m awake.” She looked toward the door. “Is it still raining?” Silly question when she could see water sheeting off the window pane.

“It eased off for a while.”

She looked back at the man. “How do you stand being up here by yourself?”

He shrugged. “I like being alone.”

“Yes, solitude can have its advantages, but what if something happened?”

“Max is a pretty good watchdog, he could go for help.”

That sparked an idea in her head. “Could he go now and let the authorities know I’m here?”

“Not in this weather. Besides, this isn’t a life-or-death situation.”

“Maybe not to you,” she said, hating the trapped feeling that was enveloping her.

“If you’ll be patient a while, this weather will clear and I’ll get you down the mountain, or better yet, maybe Rory will rescue you.”

“Rory? Who’s Rory?”

“You tell me. You called out his name when I tried to wake you.”

She gasped. “I did?” At his nod, she worked to remember, but nothing came. She couldn’t come up with anyone by the name of Rory. What if he was her…husband? “I can’t remember,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Stop trying so hard. Things will come to you.” He moved closer. “Now, look up here so I can check your pupils.” She did as he asked and sat still as he shined the flashlight in her eyes.

Jake Sanderstone was so close that she could feel his breath against her face. She drew air into her lungs and inhaled his scent and something else. Straw and some kind of animal. A horse.

She pulled back. “Horses.”

“What?” He looked confused and annoyed. “What about horses?”

“You smell like horses. Why is that?”

His nearly black eyes captured hers. “Maybe because I just came in from feeding two in the stable. Why? Do you remember something?”

She shook her head. “Just that I recognize the scent of horses. That’s not such a breakthrough. Pretty distinctive odor.”

“Maybe. But you might know something about horses. Give yourself some time to think about that.” He got up and went to the kitchen area. On the stove was a pan and he began stirring. “If you’re hungry, I heated up some stew.”

Suddenly, her stomach growled. “Maybe I could eat a little.”

“Good.” He smiled this time. “It’ll help you get your strength back.” He pulled down two mismatched bowls from the cupboard and filled them with two large ladle full of stew. He carried the heaping bowls to the small table and went back for a loaf of bread.

“Supper is ready,” he said as he came to the couch.

Ana started to stand, but her legs wouldn’t cooperate. Instead of asking for his help, she used the couch for support and slowly made her way into the kitchen. “Looks good.”

“It’s canned. I’m hoping when you feel better, you can practice your culinary skills on me.”

“I don’t cook.”

He sent her a questioning look. “Now, of all the things you had to remember, why that?”

She shrugged and picked up her spoon. “I don’t think I’ve spent much time in a kitchen at all.” She paused and looked around the bowl.

“What are you looking for?”

“A napkin.”

Silently, Jake went to the cupboard and pulled out a package of paper napkins and handed her one. She could feel his eyes on her as she placed it across her lap.

“You all set now?” he asked as he returned to his seat.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered. After taking a bite, she savored the taste. She’d probably had better, but nothing more appreciated. “As I was saying…I don’t recognize anything.”

“Well, when you’re feeling better, I’ll introduce you around,” he said with a cocky smile, then added, “sugar.”

“I insist you stop calling me by that ridiculous name.”

“You’re insisting?”

Ana hated that flash of arrogance in his midnight eyes. She didn’t like being teased, never did. Another flicker of memory. Well, she wasn’t about to tell him that so she concentrated on eating her stew. But there was another pressing matter that she did have to talk with him about. She needed to use the facilities. She looked around the room wondering if it was through the bedroom.

“What do you need?” he asked her.

“Nothing.” She turned back to her food, but the need wouldn’t go away, it only intensified. She stood. “Would you please direct me to the facilities?”

“Sure, but I’m going to have to go with you.”

“I beg your pardon. I assure you Mr. Sanderstone, I’m capable of taking care of the situation quite nicely, thank you.”

“The name’s Jake. And I think this time, especially in your condition, you need my help.”

“You’ve helped quite enough. Now I want you to show me where to go.”

His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “It would be my pleasure.” He pointed to the door. “It’s outside to the left about thirty yards from the cabin.”

Ana bit back a groan, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distaste. He went to the door ahead of her and helped her into rain gear and boots. He opened the door and walked her to the edge of the porch. He turned serious. “Sure you don’t need my help, sugar?”

Her temper flared again. “Look…Yank. I told you, I can handle this.”

She got the satisfaction of seeing his irritation before she stepped off the porch. The cold rain washed over her face and made her shiver. She moved slowly, but she would die before she let Jake Sanderstone know just how much she really needed him.

Just before dawn the next morning, Jake was stretched out on the couch, listening to the crackling of the fire. Ana had gone to sleep in the bed. He’d checked on her off and on during the night. She was much better. Enough so he felt he could leave her for a while.

After hours of deliberating, he’d come to the conclusion that he had to return to the crash site. There were two bodies up there exposed to animals and the elements, and he needed to bury them.

There also might be a chance that the plane’s radio still worked. A slim one, but it would be great if he could at least get word out about the crash and the lone survivor. Not that there was any chance that a rescue team would get here until the storm passed and that could be days away. But he had to try.

And it wouldn’t hurt to find out about the woman he’d brought into his home. Maybe he could find some information on her in the meantime. At least she would have a name and maybe that would help trigger her memory.

He threw back his blanket and stood. He grabbed his dried pants from the hearth and put them on, next came his shirt and a sweater. He went to the sink and pumped water and splashed some on his face. The cold made him shiver. Well, if that didn’t wake him nothing would. Not wanting to waste any time, he’d eat breakfast on the trail and reached in the cupboard for some jerky.

He grabbed his jacket then rubbed Max’s fur “Come on, boy, I have a job for you,” he whispered and led him into the bedroom.

He stood next to the bed. Ana was asleep on her side, her hair nearly covering her face. He brushed the strands away and she moaned and rolled over on her back. She blinked at him, then opened her eyes.

“You again,” she groaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of disturbing my sleep? Fine, do what you have to do.”

Jake closed his eyes a moment and tried to erase the dangerous thoughts in his head. “I wanted you to know that I’ll be gone for a few hours. Max will be here for you. So you’ll be safe. There’s plenty of wood for the fire. It’s best if you stay in bed.” And out of trouble, he finished to himself.

All he got from her was the soft sound of her even breathing. She was great for the male ego, he thought ironically. Well, when he got back he would know who she was, and with any luck, she’d be gone soon. He put on his rain gear, walked out the door, locked it, then grabbed the shovel from the side of the cabin and headed toward the ridge. In a few days he’d be all alone again.

And that’s just the way he liked it.