Page 13 of When I Forgot Us (Blue River #1)
Chapter Seven
He’d been careful not to mention his and Michelle’s past yesterday in the barn, how they intertwined to the point he’d thought he knew everything about her.
Losing her to her career had proved he barely knew her at all.
And seeing her again all these years later hammered the fact home.
She’d changed, which was normal. Everyone changed as life sped past. They all made mistakes, decided whether to learn from them, and moved on.
It was the same for him. All his mistakes prickled around his heart like tiny little fence posts that hemmed him in. He’d done his best to learn from them and wasn’t keen on repeating a single one.
“What are we doing today?” Michelle slapped her gloved hands together and grinned when a rush of hay dust spiraled through the air.
He shook himself from his thoughts and showed her the list he’d scratched out on a piece of paper. “I need to go to town. Want to ride along?”
She drew her lips to one side and tapped her gloved finger against her cheek. “Let’s see. Stay here and offer free manual labor or go to town and pester you until you stop at the ice cream shop? Such a tough decision.”
“You had me at ice cream.” He stuffed the list into his back pocket and grabbed his keys. “Supplies first.”
“How many stops?” Her steps were quick behind him, and she finally drew even, then passed him and hopped into the passenger seat. She smirked and patted the side of the door. “I’m all for chivalry, but ice cream trumps having my door opened for me. Hurry up, cowboy.”
If she had any idea how her words affected him, she didn’t show it. Of course she didn’t know. She used to use that tone, calling him cowboy, when she flirted. It meant something different now…right?
He examined her after making his way into the truck and getting them on the main road.
She sat in a kind of quiet contemplation, her gaze skipping to the land around them.
Her toes patted the floorboard in time with the music on the radio, and every now and then, he caught the slight hum under her breath.
The relaxed posture eased his own tense grip on the steering wheel.
Even without her memory, pieces of her were the same.
Her ability to ride along and not press for conversation to fill the quiet offered a tentative measure of peace.
He’d expected her to have questions, especially after their time in the barn yesterday, and he’d been afraid to give her too much information.
How much would overwhelm her? Did he have the right to tell her what he knew?
His memories of her—of them—were perilous.
His emotions had been invested in those memories.
“If you could go back in time and change one thing, what would it be?” The question seemed to burst out of her as he parked in front of the feed and tack store and pocketed his keys.
“How far back can I go?” He left the truck, trying to round the hood fast enough to open her door.
She beat him to it again, grinning the whole time.
“You’re making me look bad.” He pretended to scowl and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You can put money on Mr. Wilson giving me what for.”
“Why?” Michelle rose on her tiptoes and peeked over his shoulder. “It’s not like you didn’t try.”
He mimicked the man’s deep rumble. “It’s not about the trying, young lady.”
She stuttered out a laugh, shaking her head and opening the green door.
The smell of leather and animal feed created a unique mix he’d recognize anywhere.
Michelle wrinkled her nose, but then she walked over to a barrel full of corn and plunged both hands into the golden kernels with a squeal of delight.
All the worry fell away, and in that moment, he saw the girl he’d fallen head over boots for.
“It’s cold. Why does that feel so good?” She leaned deeper and sank her arms up to her elbows. “I could stay here all day.”
Deep laughter boomed out from behind the counter. Jasper Wilson guffawed with the rich warmth that made him a favorite among the townsfolk. “I know a girl who used to say that every time she walked in.”
“Really?” Michelle straightened but kept her hands in the barrel. She swirled the kernels around with her hands, cupped handfuls and let them fall back with tinkling sounds like falling stars. “Who?”
“You,” Jasper answered before Chase could stop him.
Michelle stepped away from the barrel and rushed to the counter. “I did? When? How old was I?”
Jasper scratched the back of his neck beneath his tan Stetson.
“Well, now I don’t rightly remember the year.
” He eyed Chase and seemed to read the pleading in his eyes that the older man not reveal that Chase was the person who first brought her here.
“In fact, you’re the reason I keep that barrel out.
You used to beg and plead for me to cut open a bag of corn.
It got to the point it was easier to do it this way. ”
Michelle’s breaths quickened, forcing her shoulders up and series of short jerks. “That’s why it felt familiar, why I couldn’t stop myself.” She scrubbed her eyes and raised a pleading look his way. “I need a bag of corn.”
“Add it to my order.” Chase handed Jasper the list. “My usual, plus this stuff.”
Jasper read the list, gave him a tiny grin and a nod, and smacked the counter. “Give me a half hour. I’ll have the boys load it up.”
“Sounds good.” He tipped his head toward the door. “Ready for that ice cream?”
“Sure.” Some of her enthusiasm evaporated, confusion taking its place. “I can pay for the corn.”
“No need.” He tapped the brim of his hat in a gesture of thanks toward Jasper. “I’ll be able to use it this winter…unless you decide to take it to the B&B with you.”
That brought out a sharp laugh. “I can just imagine Yvonne’s face. She’d probably let me drag it into my room and not say a thing.”
“Probably.” He knew she would, but he let her enjoy this moment of discovery as she worked out the personalities of the people around her.
“Hey, Chase, got a second?” Jasper called out behind him.
The sharp edge to the question stopped Chase halfway out the door. “Sure.” He nudged Michelle lightly with his elbow. “Why don’t you go ahead to the ice cream shop. I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll wait for you here.” She dropped into the rocking chair beside the door and kicked her feet up onto the rail. “I just need a piece of hay sticking out of my mouth and it’ll be like I’m in an old western.”
“Jasper modeled his store after those kinds of movies.” He pointed at the false front and antique wooden planks. “He’s pretty proud of his ingenuity.”
“Probably why I like it here. I’ve discovered an affinity for centuries’ old buildings.” She wiggled deeper into the padded seat. “Surprised I became a bank executive. Why not a real estate agent?”
His chest pinched so hard he forgot how to breathe.
She used to talk about just that. Her love for old buildings sent them exploring more than one condemned residence through the years.
She loved exploring, finding the lost and forgotten pieces of people’s history.
Then she’d left for the city, proclaiming there was nothing in the past that fascinated her anymore and that her happiness was in the city.
He backtracked to the counter before he said something he’d regret. “What’s up?”
“She really doesn’t remember?” Jasper gripped the edge of the counter. “I heard, but I didn’t believe it till I saw her face. It was like she was discovering herself all over again.” He blew out a coffee-scented sigh. “Any chance she’ll get it back?”
“I can’t really talk about that, Jasper.” He’d never been one to talk behind another’s back. “She might. She might not.” He turned on his heel. “Gotta go.”
“Enjoy your ice cream.”
He intended to. It wasn’t a date but sitting with her in one of their favorite places as a couple hurt almost as much as it helped remind him that his suffering and Michelle’s suffering were not the same.
She had the thrill of discovery pushing her forward.
He had the pain of the past locking around him and tempting him to dream of things best left buried.
Michelle sat right where he’d left her. The only difference was the couple standing on the other side of the wooden railing.
Mr. and Mrs. Coleman, the elderly couple Michelle had bugged for years until they let her pilfer through their garage for antiques. Mrs. Cole grinned at Michelle. “You sound just like her. I swear, if it wasn’t for the new wrinkles on my face, I’d swear no time at all passed.”
“Just like who?” Michelle’s boots thumped to the floor, and she sat forward so fast the chair creaked.
Mrs. Coleman squinted. “That same little girl who wanted to know the story behind every picture in my photo album. She used to follow me around the house every time she found an interesting piece in the garage until I told her the story behind it.” A light laugh tickled the air. “She sure was persistent.”
Michelle leaned her forearms on the rail. She seemed comforted and confused by the interaction. “I don’t understand. Am I the girl you’re talking about?”
Mrs. Colemen nodded. “Of course. We didn’t want to pressure you into trying to remember. But when I saw you sitting there, I had to stop by and say hello.” She squeezed Michelle’s hands. “It’s good to see you again, dear. And don’t you worry if you never get your memory back.”
Michelle shrank away from those words.
Mrs. Coleman either didn’t notice or knew her next words would help. “You’re still a wonderful woman, and nothing can change that. New memories can’t replace the ones you’ve lost, but you have a whole town here ready to help in any way you need.”
“You’d tell me all your memories of me?” A spark of defiance lit her eyes when she locked eyes with him.
“Well, my memories are not as good as they used to be, but I’m sure I can come up with more stories.” Mrs. Coleman released Michelle’s hands and backed away with a tiny wave. “You come see us sometime.”