Returning Home (9 page)

She pointed out people, naming names and telling Jeff about their personalities, nicknames, and habits. Though Jeff knew he should remember, he didn’t.

“So,” Hope asked finally, closing the book, “did anything, anything at all, jog your memory?”

He noticed she’d stopped a few pages short of the end. Curious, he flicked back the cover, thumbing through the pages until he reached the page that she’d forgotten—or avoided.

“Graduation,” he breathed, staring at a picture of himself, much younger, twirling around an oddly sullen Hope, still in their caps and gowns.

Images exploded in his mind. He heard angry words. He felt accusations. He sensed hurt and rage at a time when life should have been just beginning. The scenes came, fragmented, lightning fast, too quick for him to assimilate and analyze.

He stood still and let them wash over him.

Hope’s tears. He’d done ... he’d done
....
It was there, just barely out of reach.

Clenching his fists, he closed his eyes and let his mind try.

Graduation. Pride. Empty, hollow, foolish pride.

And pain.

Then nothing.

Chapter Six

Furious with himself, Jeff kept his body rigid and tried to think. Tried to remember.

Nothing.

He wanted to pound his fists into the wall in frustration.

“Jeff?” Tentative, Hope’s voice reached him through his fog. “What is it? Are you all right?”

Sagging in defeat, he opened his eyes. “I thought
I...
remembered something,” he told her haltingly. “Something that happened between you and me.”

Hope drew in her breath audibly. “Did you? What did you
remember?”

He saw and noted the barely hidden panic in her eyes and voice. Searching for words to describe the disjointed images he’d seen, he found none. “Noth
ing,” he made himself say. “Nothing that made sense, anyway.”

She nodded. He saw disappointment mingled with relief in her face. She was hiding something that he intuitively sensed was of critical importance.

But what? More than anything, he wished he could remember.

“My sister had a reason for sending for you, didn’t she?”

Startled
, Hope’s gaze flashed to his, then away. “What do you mean?”

Shifting his weight, he took both her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. “We have some sort of unfinished business, you and I, don’t we?”

Though he could tell she wanted to, to her credit she didn’t try to pull away. He watched as she com
posed herself; then, when she had the serene mask back in place, she smiled.

“No, Jeff. I think we finished it ten years ago.” Gently, she tugged her hands from his. “I’m very tired. If no one else would mind, I’d like to go lie down.”

As if on cue, Charlene and Clay, with a sleepy Derek in tow, appeared. “It’s late,” Charlene said, her sharp gaze missing nothing. “Clay needs to get home and put Derek to bed.”

“Clay, it was good to see you again,” Hope said as she stood.

Belatedly, Jeff did, too, noting the genuine pleasure in her husky voice.

The two hugged, then broke apart.

With an awkward grin, Clay held out his hand. “Good seeing you, buddy.”

Though Jeff knew he had big hands, Clay’s engulfed his. They shook, neither of them sure of what to say.

“Thanks,” Jeff finally said, following Clay to the door and watching as his friend loaded up his son and drove off.

Suddenly, he understood Hope’s desire to be

alone. He felt like a wounded animal, wanting to lick his wounds and hide.

“Come on.” Squashing his impatience, he took Hope’s arm, trying to ignore her soft skin and femi
nine scent. Ignoring his sister’s curious gaze, he steered Hope down the hall to her room. Hesitating in the doorway, he found his eyes drawn to the wide bed with its bright, floral spread.

“Thank you.” Wide-eyed, she looked up at him.

“I—” Another flash of images roared through his brain. He saw himself and Hope, their limbs entwined. He felt silky, sleek skin, and searing heat He sensed carnal images, arousing. But, there was more than just mere lust. There was much, much more.

With stunned shock, he realized he saw himself with Hope, making passionate love on this same bed.

Arousal shot through him, fierce and commanding. He swayed with the force of his desire, struggling to get himself under control.

As if she could read his mind, Hope scooted away. “You’d better go,” she said, her voice trembling.

She was right. He turned blindly to leave before he gave in to the urge to taste her lips, to see if she felt as good as his fragment memories promised.

At the doorway, he stopped, knowing she could hear the harsh sound of his breathing. He kept his back to her, his shoulders stiff. “I’m sorry,” he rasped. “Things are coming back in bits and pieces.”

She made no comment There wasn’t the exclama
tion of delight that he half expected, not even polite interest. Turning back he saw why. Nothing but fear, stark and real, shone in her eyes.

She was afraid he was remembering only the wrong things.

He was half afraid of that himself.

With a muttered curse, he strode from the room.

After he’d gone, Hope let out her breath. He said he was beginning to remember. She knew, somehow she knew,
exactly
what he’d remembered as he stared down at her on the bed. She’d seen the desire in his face, felt the power of it herself.

Raising a shaking hand to her mouth, Hope touched her lips. For a second, she’d believed he would kiss her. And she’d wanted him to. Heaven help her, she’d wanted him to. She’d never forgotten his kiss, the way his mouth fit over hers, the way he tasted. There had never been another man who’d been able to stir her with a mere kiss.

She didn’t dare even to think of the way they’d made love together. If she did, she would be lost Clumsily, she pushed herself back, plumping the pillow against the headboard. She hadn’t even told him that she wanted to leave. She’d been here less than a week of her promised month. Should she stay and see it through, or leave? Already, Jeff was remembering. Bits and pieces, he had said.

Hope rubbed her aching temples, trying to think, to decide. She knew that once Jeff’s memory started to return, it would only grow stronger. This was a good thing, she reminded herself. This was why she had come. But she had to face the facts, no matter how much it might hurt, no matter how badly the thought terrified her.

Jeff would eventually remember everything, right up until graduation, when she’d left. He would remember what he had done, how his betrayal had caused her to flee Dalhart

He would remember and question. This time, there would be no escape. This time, she would have no choice but to tell him of the terrible thing she’d done to both of
them, to their child. She would have no choice but to tell him of the daughter he had never known, the daughter whose brief life had been like a bright ray of sunshine. The daughter Hope had loved with all her heart—but Jeff hadn’t even known of her existence. This time, she would make damn sure he hated her before she left. And this time, it would be for good.

She’d just dropped off to sleep when a light tap on her door woke her. Smiling an apology, Charlene perched on the edge of her bed. “Do you want to talk?”

Glancing at the luminous dial of her clock radio, Hope saw it was only a
little
past ten. She rubbed her eyes, cleared her throat, and nodded.

“Like we used to?”

Just like in the old days, Charlene wanted to have a heart-to-heart chat. Settling back against the pillows, Hope smiled.

“Okay.” Hesitant to share her worries, Hope decided to focus on the facts for now. “I think Jeff’s getting better. He said he remembered bits and pieces.”

“Really!” Charlene beamed. “Did he tell you what he remembered?”

Hope felt her face heat. Glad her friend couldn’t see her too well in the dim room, she sighed and said, “Not really. Most likely it had to do with football.”

“Football,” Charlene snorted. “Do you think he’ll remember what happened, what he did behind your back that night at the lake?”

“Right before graduation,” Hope finished, amazed that her tone sounded so steady. Inside, her nerves jangled. “I’m sure he will remember, eventually.”

“What will you do then?” Charlene whispered. “Promise me you won’t leave before the reunion.” The reunion. She would have to face all her old classmates again, knowing that all of them knew. Hope told herself they probably had forgotten; after all, it had happened ten
years ago.

It appeared that leaving was, for now, out of the question.

“I’ll go to the reunion.”

“Good,” Charlene sighed. “I can’t wait to go shop
ping. We’ll show them that all former cheerleaders don’t necessarily get fat”

Hope giggled. ‘ ‘It’ll be interesting to see what every
one looks like now.”

“And to see if Clay can still dance,” Charlene said wistfully.

Her friend had always loved to dance. With a pang, Hope remembered how well she and Jeff had fit together, how sexy dancing with him had always made her feel.

That was in the past, she reminded herself. She wouldn’t dance with Jeff at the reunion. It would be too dangerous.

“So what do you think?” Charlene asked. “Should we do it or not?”

Hope realized she had been so deep in her thoughts that she’d missed what Charlene was saying.

“Should we get dresses similar to the ones we wore when we were on the Homecoming Court? Mine was violet sequins, remember?”

“And mine was emerald green,” Hope mused. “The color of Jeff’s eyes.” Her voice broke. She took a deep breath and went on, “You know, I still have that dress back in my closet in Dallas. It looks brand new. I’ve never worn it since.”

“But can you still fit in it?”

“I think so.” Hope wore the same size she had in high school.

“I still have mine, too!” Charlene’s voice rose with her excitement. “Let’s wear ’em.”

Though she knew Charlene couldn’t see her, Hope shook her head. “I didn’t bring it with me and Dallas is
too far to go to get a dress. I’d rather go down to Amarillo and buy one.” Preferably one without sequins, she added to herself, and a different color.

Charlene sighed loudly. “You’ve lost it, Hope.” Her tone was teasing. “You’ve gotten old. You aren’t fun anymore.”

Tempted to agree, Hope gave a short laugh instead. If only Charlene knew, though she couldn’t tell her. Losing a child did that to a person; it zapped the zest right out of a vibrant life. Sometimes she felt eons older than her twenty-eight years.

“I
am
different,” she told her old friend in a soft voice. “I’ve grown up a lot since then. I want to buy a dress that reflects that”

“Not something old-ladyish and made of chiffon?” Charlene said with mock horror.

Hope laughed. “Heck, no. Nothing like that. I was thinking more basic black, sub
tl
y elegant yet seduc
tive.”

“You’ve been watching too many
Melrose Place
reruns. I think we should show up and make a splash.”

Making a splash was the last thing she wanted to do, but Hope didn’t know how to tell Charlene that “I’ll be there with Jeff,” she said softly, hoping her friend couldn’t hear the way her voice trembled.

“So?”

“Everyone knows what happened between us.” Hope ran her hand through her hair in agitation. The worst part of it was that they only knew half of it. “It was—it will be—humiliating. I don’t want to draw a lot of attention.”

All traces of laughter vanished from Charlene’s voice. “Hope, honey, that was ten years ago. No one remembers or cares. We’ve all gone on with our lives, haven’t we?”

The question hung between them, vibrating in the air.

“Of course we have.” Hope’s answer came out sharper than she intended. “But this is a small town. You
know that better than most; you stayed here. People remember. People talk. I don’t want to be the main topic of gossip for the next month.”

“What do you care?” Charlene’s voice rose, show
ing her frustration. “You’re leaving at the end of the month anyway.”

Because she was right, Hope fell silent. She couldn’t expect her old high school friend to understand. Too many years had passed, too many nights of needless regret and hurt had changed Hope’s life forever. Things would never be the same. Never.

And Jeff and Charlene and all the rest of them must never find out why.

The next morning, Jeff pulled into the yard before dawn. The glare of his truck headlights into her bed
room window pierced her sleep, partially waking her, and his tapping on her bedroom window did the rest. Groggily, she grabbed a robe and staggered down the hall into the kitchen, and unlocked the back door to let him in.