Conard County Marine (19 page)

“Well, that sure killed the mood,” Coop said wryly after Connie left. “Probably for the best. I’ll put that sticker up, if you want.”

“Thanks.” She handed it to him. While part of her was truly sorry that the passion they’d started to share had been interrupted, another part of her agreed it was for the best. She didn’t want to use the man as a distraction. God, it would be so nice if everything would just go away so they could make love without any questions about why. Because once again she was questioning herself.

But those thoughts were squeezed out by the image of a terrified little girl running from a stranger in a car. Thank God the child had gotten away. She had a vague idea of what had been done to her, and the scars on her body to remind her. The thought of some little girl suffering that not only horrified her, it made her furious.

Coop stepped out front, apparently to decide where to place the sticker so it would be clear from the street. When he came back in, he said, “All set. Very visible, too. They chose the colors well.”

“Good. God, can you imagine the kind of man who’d be scaring kids like this? Totally sick. Sick!” Like the one who’d come after her. “Has the whole world gone crazy?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” He sat beside her and took her hand, holding it snugly.

Before they could say anything else, the phone rang. Coop twisted and scanned the caller ID. “Glenda,” he said, passing her the phone.

“Hi, sis,” Kylie said.

“Hey, girl. Get Coop to bring you over to the hospital. The neurologist and psychiatrist want to see you.”

*

Kylie was on pins and needles the whole short trip to the hospital. “Why so quickly?” she asked Coop, knowing he wouldn’t have an answer any more than she did. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe nothing. Maybe it has to do with their schedules.”

She hoped that was all it was, and tried to tell herself he was probably right. Except Glenda had sounded so adamant.

Glenda was waiting out front for them, chatting with a colleague. They parted ways and Glenda walked toward Kylie and Coop. “I hope I didn’t scare you, but both doctors aren’t in town every day. They won’t be back again for a week, and I was lucky they agreed to see you before leaving today.”

Relief washed through Kylie. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had feared, because she wasn’t supposed to go back to the doctor in Denver for three months, and even he’d said it was okay for her to find a doctor here, that he’d send the MRIs and other information.

Walking into the hospital hit her with familiarity. The sounds, but mostly the smells and scurrying people. It was like another homecoming, not so different from returning to the house she shared with Glenda.

“I belong here.” The words popped out of her.

Glenda paused and smiled at her. “Yes, you do, Kylie. That’s why I want you to come to work with me as soon as you feel you can. It’s like home, isn’t it?”

It was. A sense of belonging she’d almost forgotten flooded her. This was
her
turf, the focus of much of her life. She was glad, though, that they went nowhere near the emergency room. She didn’t know if she was ready for those sounds. People in pain... No, she wasn’t ready for that.

It felt good to have Coop at her side, and when they reached the doctor’s office and he started to sit in the waiting room, she said, “No, I want Coop to hear it all. He’s been dealing with it almost as much as I have.”

Glenda studied her, then something in her gaze softened. “So it’s like that,” she murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” She turned to the receptionist, who told them to go down the hall to the first room on the right. “There won’t be a wait,” the woman said. “They’re expecting you.”

“Are you sure about me hearing this?” Coop asked her.

“Absolutely. Sheesh, Coop, you dragged me out of the diner today. I think you have a right to know what we’re dealing with.”

Of that much, at least, she was certain. Everything else was up in the air, but if there was a reason for Coop to lose interest in her, she wanted it to happen now, before they got in any deeper. He deserved that much respect.

Dr. Nugent was a tall, thin man with slightly stooped shoulders, and his smile was automatic. The neurologist. Dr. Weathers, a dark-skinned woman, had a smile to light the night, filled with warmth. She was the psychiatrist. Surprise, Kylie thought. True to the stereotypes. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have laughed.

“Where shall we begin?” Nugent asked.

“With you,” Weathers answered. “Best to deal with the medical facts first.”

“Fair enough.” He rolled a chair over and faced Kylie. “You’re the patient, Kylie Brewer.”

Since they’d just been introduced, she blinked. “Yes, Doctor.”

He nodded, a birdlike movement. “I’ve reviewed everything your doctor in Denver sent me. Your MRIs and other tests. It’s really not bad news.”

She felt her heart leap, and reached out with both hands. Glenda took one and Coop the other. “Not bad how? I had brain damage.”

“Indeed you did. But at the time the last set of MRIs were taken, you showed a great deal of healing. If you want I can show you the images. You’re a nurse, right? They might make sense to you.”

He turned and clicked on a large screen on the wall. “Digital images,” he said. “Highly defined. This is from your functional MRI, meaning your brain activity was being observed. You’ll notice this small dark spot here.” He pointed. “That’s the damage. And compared to your earlier imaging, it’s healing quite nicely.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. A long breath escaped her.

Dr. Nugent leaned forward, bobbing his head again. “The thing is, Ms. Brewer, an injury of this sort would not simply have cut out three years of your memory with almost surgical precision. In fact, I’d wager to say the most it would do is affect your short-term memory for a while, and possibly cause you to be a bit impulsive. But it will heal. And yes, you may have lost parts of your memory, but only the most recent ones. Your brain is going to recover beautifully. With that, I’ll turn you over to Dr. Weathers.” He rose, bobbed his head again and walked out.

Kylie felt stunned. Totally stunned. “The other doctor...”

Glenda answered. “The other doctor was talking to you while you were still recovering. You heard Nugent. Problems with short-term memory. Can you really be certain who told you what?”

“But you asked, didn’t you?”

Glenda nodded. “They said you’d recover from the trauma to your brain. I told you that. Nobody could explain all the amnesia. Remember?”

Kylie didn’t remember. Her hands tightened until she was gripping Glenda and Coop so hard it was a wonder neither of them objected. “Then what’s wrong with me?”

Dr. Weathers spoke, her voice warm and firm. “Absolutely nothing that time won’t fix. Your amnesia is traumatic, Kylie. Definitely traumatic. But it’s not from the injury. For some reason, probably a very good reason, your mind has blocked the last three years. Did something happen three years ago? A big life change?”

Kylie’s mouth felt like sand. She licked her lips, and the doctor passed her an unopened water bottle. She drank a few sips, and finally answered, “I moved to Denver.”

“Then that’s where we’ll begin,” Dr. Weathers said. “I’m going to set up a weekly appointment with you, and we’ll work on this until we chip away the block. Ms. Brewer, I think you forgot more than you needed to, but you probably had a very good reason for that. Once we figure that out, the puzzle pieces should start coming back together for you.”

Kylie looked at her, liking her instinctively, and felt hope rising in her heart. “So I can be myself again?”

“Most likely. The question is when you’ll be ready. But the news is pretty good, don’t you think?”

As they were leaving, Dr. Weathers said, “Next week at three. And if you have trouble remembering what we discussed here, both your sister and Mr. Cooper can remind you.”

Kylie nearly floated home with Coop. She was going to be normal again. She would eventually remember what she needed to. It wasn’t a fault of brain damage.

But as soon as they reentered the house, darker thoughts tried to edge in. Why had she forgotten three whole years? She could understand having forgotten the attack and what led up to it, but three whole years? Ever since she went to Denver?

“You should be celebrating,” Coop remarked, as if he sensed her change in mood.

“Now I’m wondering what’s wrong with me that I forgot three whole years. Why not just the bad part at the end?”

“Obviously that’s the reason for the therapy,” he answered. “My guess is that Denver somehow got linked in your mind with the bad stuff. But you’re going to have to figure that out, and that’s one place I can’t help you.”

No one could, she supposed. She was about to embark on a journey of self-discovery, and she suspected not all of it would please her. But to get back her memory, or most of it? To be able to return to nursing? Maybe to even really think about medical school?

Coop was right—she should be celebrating. Finally she smiled at him, a bright, wide smile. “I think mostly I feel happy. There’s hope. Lots of hope that I didn’t think I had before.”

*

Coop watched her twirl in delight, expressing a happiness he had hardly dared to hope to see in her. He smiled at the sight, but the ever-cautious part of him waited in anticipation of the crash. Too happy too fast seldom meant good things.

It happened in an instant. He watched her freeze and her expression changed. Waiting to see where she would take this, he was surprised when she spoke.

“Something to do with Denver,” she said quietly. “Why else would I forget my entire time there? He must be someone I knew while I was there. I erased him.”

“Possible,” he said cautiously.

“What other reason could there be?” She threw up a hand. “Sorry. You can’t answer these questions, and I guess I’m in for a whole lot of therapy to get the answers.”

“But there will be answers.”

She nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yes. There will be. And when it’s done I’ll be relieved, but I don’t think it’s going to be fun.”

“Not likely.”

“But I still feel better knowing it’s not a wiring problem in my brain. Most of it, anyway. I’m kind of amazed that I forgot people told me that.”

“Well, the doc did say you’d have some short-term memory problems. Probably less now than you did before. I haven’t noticed any.”

“I hope so.” Her smile slowly brightened. “I guess there’s no point in wondering what or who made me forget so much...because I’ve forgotten it.”

Her joke took him unawares and drew a surprised laugh from him. He suspected he was getting a glimpse of the real Kylie, the woman she had been before fear had overtaken her life. He liked what he was seeing.

But he’d liked her all along. Yes, she’d been frightened, but he’d watched her struggle with it and try to maintain her balance. As he knew from experience, that was no easy thing to do. Of course it had preoccupied her. How could it not?

But now she had hope, and it was a beautiful thing. Quite a beautiful thing. He wanted so badly to reach for her and pull her into his arms, to join her circle of joy. But she hadn’t invited him, so he just watched and waited as she absorbed the good news. Bless Glenda for not letting it lie.

Kylie had been given back her hope. Now he just had to make certain that some creep didn’t steal it again.

*

It didn’t take long for the word to reach Todd. He knew some people at the hospital—hell, he helped with their financial planning—and they thought they were sharing good news about his old friend Kylie Brewer.

Todd had great respect for gossip. He worked hard to generate none, unless there was something he wanted to make the rounds, but it was sure useful to keep tuned in to it.

He heard all about the fright he’d given that little redheaded girl, and savored the fact that nearly all the police resources were being directed toward protecting kids.

But then he picked up other whispers. Something had happened to Kylie at the diner. Cooper had nearly had to carry her out. A memory? So it seemed when he learned she’d been to see the psychiatrist at the hospital.

The question was what she had remembered, but the danger lay in her remembering anything at all. He got seriously concerned when an orderly he’d grown up with said there was talk that Kylie’s memory would come back, that it hadn’t been the result of brain damage.

Good news? Not for him. And so much for keeping medical information confidential. Over the years he’d cultivated a few informants with loose lips because it was useful to his job. Now it was useful to his own life.

At any moment she might remember his face. Remember the number of times he had pressed her to have coffee with him until it became clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. That last time they’d had coffee together had set his course. She couldn’t wait to get away from him, and barely managed to be polite.

What a way to treat an old friend. And no matter how many times he looked in a mirror, he couldn’t figure out why she reacted to him that way. There sure as hell was nothing wrong with him. He was moderately successful; he presented well or he wouldn’t be successful in his job. So why did Kylie keep trying to avoid him?

The resentment had built, and along with it a sense of humiliation. Who did Kylie Brewer think she was, anyway? No better than him, even if she acted like it. But one way or another, she kept treating him like something she wanted to scrape off her shoe.

Oh, not overtly. She was polite. But she kept evading his invitations, and finally when she felt it would be rude to do so any longer, they met for coffee. Just coffee. No dinner. No movie. No picnic, even though he’d suggested it. Coffee in a busy shop near the hospital was all she would give him.

Over time his thoughts toward her had grown more violent. A woman needed to know her place. His father had said so more than once when he hit his wife. Kylie needed to be disciplined. Taught a lesson. And then the idea of teaching her a lesson had blossomed into something much stronger. She was the source of his humiliation and there was only one way to put an end to it. He wondered how many other men she treated the way she treated him. He might be saving more than himself by getting rid of her for good.