Page 21 of When I Forgot Us (Blue River #1)

Chapter Eleven

Something shifted that day on the hiking trail. She’d tried to put a word to the emotion that whipped through her four days ago when she took Chase’s hand. It was familiar but frightening.

The skip in her pulse contrasted with the way her throat had seized like all her air refused to move, a sensation of drowning had invaded.

She’d released his hand, and it had all gone away.

Her comment about not leaving Blue River battered around in her skull the rest of the afternoon, through the night, and in the following days.

What would she do here if she decided to stay?

The Bible she’d been reading lay open on her nightstand.

She flipped onto her back, pulling the Bible up to her bent knees.

Chase’s favorite verse stretched across the page.

When she’d flipped the Bible open to search for it, she’d found it already highlighted in yellow.

She read them to herself. “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us,” The words reflected in the light from her bedside lamp, and she ran her thumb back and forth over the words.

They were smooth, the glossy paper giving her nothing.

“What does it mean?” She asked the empty room in a whisper.

The space comforted her. Yvonne had given her a room that faced the back of the house.

It overlooked a small playground, though Michelle had never been around to see kids playing since she spent her days at the ranch.

“’Now unto him that is able’ seems pretty self-explanatory.

I’m not able to force my memory to come back.

Everything comes back to that. Him…God?”

The headache that had started not long after her previous memory spiked a new pain through her temples. She closed her eyes and leaned into the downy pillow. “What am I doing here. This is starting to feel pointless.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. No more pity parties. She wasn’t happy in the city. Six months of memories are enough to tell her that she despised it there. And if she had liked her job before, she didn’t anymore. Was there something that kept her there?

Please, give me something back. I’m learning more about you and this books says you love me…please?

Nothing happened. No flashes of light or booming voices. No memories to tell her what to do next. Frustration reached a tipping point, but she pushed it back down. Stress and anger were not her friends. The doctors had told her not to try and force it. They’d warned it would be difficult.

They hadn’t told her it would feel like having her entire identity torn away, her life ripped to pieces as though she’d never existed.

Was that why she’d fallen in love with Blue River?

People here knew her. They commented how good it was to see her again.

Chase treated her like a friend. Aunt Sarah kept her company.

Even Maude stepped in and offered friendship.

She had a church where she felt comfortable.

If she’d ever had that in the city, there was no evidence of it in her apartment.

She’d searched the entire thing from floor to ceiling and found almost nothing to explain her years spent there.

Her eyes closed. Sleep crept in, slow at first and then in a crushing wave that yanked her under.

Color exploded and spread, painting a scene before her.

She sat on the back of a truck, her legs swinging free over the tailgate. Winter air cooled her cheeks. Her head shifted to the right, and the outline of a profile came into view. The sun set on the other side of the man, casting his entire face in shadow.

Long fingers were interlaced with hers, the blunt nails clean and neat. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

Butterflies spasmed and twisted in a riot that sent her leaning into his shoulder. “I love you.” The words felt familiar…like she’d said them before. Her skin warmed when his other hand lifted and he brushed a piece of hair from her cheek. The rough edge of a callus scored her skin.

She leaned into the touch. “I wish this could last forever.”

“It can.” His voice sounded off, muffled.

She sighed and pressed her cheek harder into his shoulder. The red plaid shirt was smooth beneath her cheek. When he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, the cowboy hat wobbled before nesting into place at her neck.

Home.

The word crushed her heart and twisted her stomach.

This was where she belonged. It always had been.

She loved sitting here on these late nights after the work was finished.

He never made her feel like her dreams were impossible.

That small voice in the back of her mind teased that there might be something better out there, something she’d never find if she stayed in Blue River.

But she loved it here, she argued back.

The fingers between hers squeezed, drawing her away from the horrifying train of thought and back to the present.

Pink and purple covered the horizon. Small gray clouds turned midnight blue, and the world seemed to stop and hold its breath at the gorgeous display.

If she ever doubted God existed, or that he loved her, all she had to do was stop and look at the sky.

Only a loving Creator could make something so beautifully terrifying that made her feel safe and yet small all at the same time.

“What are you thinking?” The man’s voice trickled into her exposed ear. It came from far away, or like it traveled underwater.

The edges of her vision blurred. She strained toward him, a ‘no’ tearing from her lips.

She sat straight up in bed, heart in her throat and vision swimming with the absence of color.

Tears burned and blurred the rest of her vision.

She dashed them away with her sleeve and threw the covers off from her legs.

Thick carpet nestled against her toes, and the prickling sensation left her skin cold and pebbled in goosebumps. She buffed her arms and swung her housecoat over her shoulders while making her way to the window.

A single streetlight offered a view of the playground, everything still and silent this time of night. Her spine shuddered so hard her bones crackled. “Dream or memory?”

The thudding pulse tempted her to believe in memory.

How would her mind know to conjure just intensity.

She’d admitted she loved someone. Her hands shook, so she shoved them into the soft pockets and paced the room.

Yvonne promised that it wouldn’t be a problem when Michelle admitted to the late-night activity.

She always thought better on her feet.

Who was the man in her dream/memory?

Chase came to mind. The voice was similar, but she’d not heard him clearly enough to be sure. And the sun had blocked her vision. But it all made sense. How she felt now, the pull of the dream/memory. Not to mention the hat.

She could ask him. Her phone sat on the nightstand, fully charged and ready. The debate of whether he’d tell her caused her to waffle.

Emotions surged. All the love she’d felt in the dream/memory assaulted her at once.

She crashed onto the edge of the bed and snatched up her phone.

A text message flew from her fingers, nothing more than a quick request to come to the ranch right now, and she tapped SEND before giving herself time to think better of it.

The time flashed when she moved away from the text screen.

Four a.m. Good chance Chase was up and already in the barn. The first rays of daylight had yet to make an appearance. She checked the window again. Correction. A single ray of orangish light pierced the darkness.

Her phone pinged, and everything else fell away as she read the message from Chase that told her of course she could come to the ranch. He asked if anything was wrong, but there was no good way to tell him about the memory except in person.

Half an hour later, she almost ran into his arms when she crossed into the barn.

He waited for her with feet spread apart and arms halfway up to catch her.

“I’m okay.” She answered the unspoken question.

“No one who runs in here like that is okay.” He guided her over to the bales of hay they often used for seats and helped her settle onto one. “What happened?”

Was it her or did he sound scared? Sitting beside him, she second-guessed the conversation. How did she even begin when the dream had been a vivid exhortation of her being in love?

“I had another dream.” She tested the slow approach with careful words. “And I think it might have been a memory, but I was asleep, so it’s also a dream.”

Confusion knit his brow, then smoothed. “Tell me.”

“It’s…complicated.” That didn’t begin to cover the truth of it, but it gave him warning.

Hay prickled her spine through her t-shirt, and she reached back to remove the offending piece.

She twirled it around her fingers, focusing on the wispy blur instead of on Chase’s expression.

“I was with a guy. I’m not sure how long ago.

We were sitting in the back of a truck, on the tailgate.

” Not unlike how she’d sat with Chase several days ago.

Why did she expect Chase to know if this was a real memory? Her dry lips cracked, and she dug her lip balm from her jeans pocket.

Chase waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, he removed his hat, hung it on his knee, and leaned his head back against the hay. “Was there anything distinct about the dream?”

She raised her eyebrows and asked, “Like what?”

One shoulder lifted and fell. “What did you talk about? Location? Anything that gives me a reference.” He picked his own piece of hay, but instead of twirling it, he wrapped it around his finger in a series of loops. “Did you recognize the guy?”

“No.” Not exactly. “This is crazy. Why would I expect you to know every memory that comes back to me?” She started to stand.