Returning Home (14 page)

After a moment’s hesitation, she took it. Her hand felt small and delicate in his larger one.

As long as she didn’t look at him, she would be all right. As long as she didn’t meet his eyes, didn’t see a reflection of her own need, she could pretend he didn’t
affect her.

Even though he did.

They reached the entrance to the hotel. Jeff held the door open, his arm brushing against her breast as she passed. Inside, the air conditioning made it blessedly cool. A small sign pointed the way to the hotel’s only conference room.

Jeff took her arm. “Ready?”

Still without looking at him, she gave a faint nod. He squeezed her shoulder and they headed down the hall. Once they turned the corner, Hope could hear the sounds of laughter and music. She heard glasses clinking and voices as her insides twisted again.

At the door to the conference room Jeff stopped, blocking the way. With a
gentle
hand, he touched her, tilting her chin and forcing her to look up at him.

When her eyes met his, she felt a shock. A slow heat started low in her belly.

“You okay?” Concern and another, deeper emo
tion colored his rich voice.

She licked her lips. His eyes followed the move
ment, hunger flaring in them. “Yes,” she rushed the word out. “I’m all right.” Dragging her gaze away from his, she straightened her shoulders. “Come on, let’s go.”

Without another word, he took her hand and led her into the room.

Chapter Nine

Curious faces turned towards them, watching their progress from across the room. As she’d known it would, the whispering and the sidelong glances started.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by a crowd of old friends. Former cheerleaders proudly showed photos of their children, their spouses standing resolutely back. The drill team captain, her once athletic body bearing the weight of six kids in ten years, shrugged
good-naturedly
and declined to perform a short rou
tine.

To her surprise, Hope found she was enjoying her
self. When Jeff returned with her margarita, she flashed him a genuine smile and went back to her conversation with a tall, dapper man in an expensive suit who bore absolutely no resemblance at all to Neal Dressier, former class nerd.

The lights dimmed. A willowy blonde stepped up to the microphone and asked in a sultry voice if they would please be seated for dinner.

“Who’s that?” Hope whispered to Charlene. Charlene lifted her brow and grinned. “That’s Susie McWirly. Don’t you recognize her?”

“What?” Shocked, Hope turned to stare. “The same Susie McWirly who was President of the Science Club?”

“Yep. She works for the government now, doing biological research. She makes big bucks.”

Jeff
whistle
d. “Who would have thought she would turn out like that?”

If she felt a twinge of jealously, Hope tried not to let it show. She drained her margarita and carefully set it aside.

Clay cast him a perplexed look. “You dated her a few times last year, before the robbery. Don’t you remember?”

Jeff’s face went carefully blank. “Not really.” He sounded casual, as if his lapse in memory didn’t bother him. Hope knew it did, no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise. She found herself want
ing to comfort him, to gather him in her arms and hold him.

When he slowly turned his head to meet her gaze, she colored, glad he couldn’t know her thoughts. “I’ll get you another drink,” he muttered, and left Another group of people enveloped her, and she found herself face to face with the one person she’d hoped to avoid—Heather Rowse. Heather was the former cheerleader who’d tried
to steal Jeff away from her. And, one night out by the lake, she’d succeeded. “Hi.” Heather’s nasal voice sounded tentative. Hope forced herself to smile, forced herself to extend a hand politely. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to get away, to kick off her high heels and run, even if it meant public humiliation. Of course, she didn’t Instead, she kept the false smile plastered

to her face, wondering why the woman had the nerve to seek her out A tall, thin man with a shock of blond hair appeared at Heather’s side, beaming. “Howdy,” he drawled, grinning to reveal crooked teeth.

“This is my husband, Jay.” After performing the introductions, Heather frowned prettily. “Hope, I was thinking maybe we could have a
little
, well, chat
.
Just the two of us. I’ve always felt kind of bad about—” “That won’t be necessary.” Hope felt her smile slipping. “We’ve nothing to discuss, not now. Not after all these years.”

“Nothing to discuss?” This came from Jay, his booming voice at odds with his skinny frame. “Why, from what my
little
lady tells me, y’all were cheerlead
ers together, all through high school. Even shared boyfriends a time or two.” His lewd wink infuriated Hope.

“Jay!” Heather hissed. “Not now.”

“Excuse me.” Magically, Jeff appeared, taking Hope’s elbow. He nodded at Jay and Heather, the polite nod of a casual acquaintance, and led Hope away.

“Your margarita, ma’am.”

The frosted glass was cool, with a thin coating of salt around the rim. Grateful, she took a sip. Glancing back at where Heather and Jay huddled together, speaking in whispers, she touched Jeff’s arm. “Do you remember her?”

The second the words left her mouth she wished she could call them back. Hope closed her eyes and drank a long swallow of her drink.

When she opened them again, Jeff’s steady regard told her nothing.

Though she knew she shouldn’t say it, knew in fact that she would hate herself once she did, the words bubbled up in her throat and spilled out of their own accord. “Did you and Heather get together again after I left?” Horrified, Hope stared down at the floor. The toes of her new shoes peeped out from under the hem of her elegant dress. To her chagrin, she felt her eyes filling up with tears.

Tears!
After ten long years and all that had hap
pened since then? She was more foolish than she’d realized.

“Hope.” Jeff lifted her chin in his big hand, his touch impossibly tender. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

The endearment cut straight through her heart, as no doubt he’d known it would. No other man had called her that since the last day she saw him. In that moment, Hope realized she was lost. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but no other man had ever made her feel the way Jeff had—did—and always would.

She needed to leave Dalhart before he realized this, too.

Once, she had let him make a fool of her, mocking her love for him by his deceit Once, but not twice. Never twice.

“Excuse me,” she said as she blindly pulled away and headed in the direction of the restroom. Head held high, she refused to blink, knowing if she did the tears would spill from her eyes and down her cheeks.

Once in the bathroom she stared at herself, at her flushed skin and overly bright eyes. Why had she ever agreed to come here, to do this, to put herself through all this again?

For Jeff. No matter what he’d done to her in the past, no matter how many years separated them, he would always be her first love, her only love.

Wetting a paper towel, Hope lightly dabbed at her eyes, willing herself calm. She straightened her shoul
ders, smoothed down her hair, and went back to the party.

Jeff really didn’t know what had upset her, though the strange heaviness in his stomach when he’d found her talking to Heather gave him more than a reason to wonder. With narrowed eyes, he studied the other woman, wondering what it was about her that upset his balance, that made him want to take Hope’s arm and move away.

Something ... something from the past. Though he struggled, it wouldn’t come to him.

When Hope asked him whether he and Heather had gotten together again, he’d remembered the flash of malice in Heather’s eyes as she glanced his way. Only then had he known. He’d actually done it, betrayed Hope in a moment of teenage drunken foolishness and regretted it for ten years. One moment with Heather had cost him what he held most dear—Hope’s trust, Hope’s love.

He wanted to cry. Instead he shook his head, trying to dislodge the flow of memories that appeared with
out warning. Stock still, he let them deluge him. In that instant, he knew he had his full memory back and everything else that came with it.

It was bittersweet knowledge.

Seeing the stark pain fresh on Hope’s lovely face, he’d tried to talk to her, to make her understand, but she’d pushed past him, on the verge of tears, and he had no choice but to let her go.

But he knew in his heart, if what he had done still hurt her so badly, even ten years later, she still cared.

This time he would not let her go so easily.

A sigh from the woman beside him brought him back to the present. Hope played with her food, mov
ing away the requisite rubbery chicken and bland rice with an apologetic smile. More than anything, Jeff yearned to
take her in his arms and soothe away her pain, her fears. But there would be time for that. The rest of their lives, if he had his way.

Now that he remembered, now that he knew, he saw with blinding clarity how meaningless his life had been. For the past ten years he’d merely existed, with an emptiness in his heart that never went away.

Things were different now. Hope had returned. Now he felt whole. He realized that Hope was the other half of him; he needed her to feel truly alive.

The room was noisy, rowdy, a gray cloud of cigarette smoke drifting near the ceiling. Several of his other football buddies, some balding, most paunchy, were heavily into the booze. They grew louder and more belligerent with every drink. After a few puzzled looks in his direction, most of them left him alone. None of them could quite figure out how to act around a man with no memory, Jeff figured.

He shook his head. Fine with him. All he cared about now was Hope.

As the waiters began clearing away the plates, Randy Wade, former class president, stepped up to the microphone. “Good evenin’, class of eighty-eight,” he boomed.

The room erupted in cheers. Jeff noticed Hope sat up straight, her hands hidden in her lap. Her face seemed unusually pale.

Again he fought back the urge to go to her, to put his arms around her and comfort her.

“I’d like to call two people up here with me,” Randy’s jocular voice sounded too hearty, too forced. Again Jeff eyed Hope. With a sinking feeling he knew, even if she didn’t, what Randy was about to do.

“Formerly our star quarterback and head cheer
leader, they were favorites of our class.”

Hope winced, a shadow darkening her cinnamon eyes. Jeff willed her to look at him, for if she did, he would take her hand and help her. But she kept her gaze on Randy, her lips s
lightly
parted.

“Our Homecoming King and Queen and voted Class Sweethearts, I swear they don’t look a year older. Everyone, let’s welcome Jeff Riggs and Hope Glide- well.”

Jeff stood, his eyes on Hope. Fragile, beautiful Hope, who lifted her face and managed a trembling smile that was the most courageous thing he’d ever seen. Hope, who hadn’t wanted to come here, who’d done this to help him, whose eyes even now shim
mered with tears of remembered pain.

Amid the clapping, the catcalls, and
whistle
s, he touched her and tucked her arm firmly into his. He moved quickly to the front of the room, wishing he could somehow shield her from the collective curious stares, yet knowing she had to make her peace. It was long past time.

Randy moved aside, swatting at Jeff’s shoulder in a playful move reminiscent of their football days. Randy, Jeff remembered, had gone on to play for Texas Tech. How he’d envied Randy’s life, back then. Now Randy was back in the Panhandle, working as a finance manager for a car dealership in Amarillo. He’d married a local girl, had three kids in rapid succession, and seemed content.

Sometimes Jeff still envied him. Or he had, until the accident and his memory loss. Now, he no longer envied the other man his domestic bliss. The only woman he’d ever wanted had returned to stand by his side. Now, the future no longer stretched out before him, bleak and barren. His life had potential again; he saw a chance to have a family, love, all those things he’d secre
tl
y hungered for. After all, for whatever reason, Hope had come home. Somehow, he planned to make her stay.

Stepping up to the microphone, he kept her close. She trembled slightly, then he felt her stiffen. One quick glance assured him that no one else could tell how she felt. She held her head high, a bright smile on her face. Twin spots of color bloomed on her cheeks. He ached seeing her like this; the Hope he’d known ten years ago had been outspoken, spontane
ous, and bubbly. This serious, withdrawn woman she’d become told him a lot had happened to her in the ten years they’d been apart

A pang of jealously roared through him. Had there been another man? Most likely, he thought glumly. Women as beautiful as Hope were never alone very long.

Maybe some other man had broken her heart How much simpler to believe this, to shrug off some of the guilt.

Hope’s elbow in his side made him realize the room had grown quiet They were waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you.” Belatedly, Jeff cleared his throat “I’m glad to be here tonight”

Some
wise guy
from the back of the room laughed and shouted, “Yeah, but how much do you remember about us?”

The crowd went utterly silent Hope leaned against him, a
gentle
reminder that she was there for him, supporting him.

A
n
d that, he found, was enough. More than enough.

Though he hadn’t prepared a speech, he found the words came unbidden, and he spoke
eloquently
. He spoke of dreams, both lost and found, of life’s disappointments and its triumphs. He spoke of fami
lies and friends, both old and new. Las
tl
y, he spoke of the most important thing of all, love.

To his surprise, his throat closed up and he had to pause to collect himself. Expectant, the class of 1988 waited, some with tears in their eyes. He glanced at Hope, surprised to find she’d bowed her head, almost as if she
were praying.

He concluded with reminding them all to count their blessings. He said he looked forward to the next reunion, in ten years, to see what changes time had brought.

When he stepped down from the podium, everyone stood, clapping. At a signal from Randy, the hired DJ punched a button and the soaring sounds of Mariah Carey filled the room.