Page 22 of When I Forgot Us (Blue River #1)

Chase grabbed her hand and pulled her back down. “Because you trust me to tell you the truth. To do that, I need the full truth from you. What aren’t you telling me?”

“I told him I loved him.” The words were bitter in the back of her throat.

As she stared into Chase’s eyes, the truth welled up.

She could easily fall for him. So easily.

But the chasm of her lost memories gaped between them.

Who was the man she’d loved, and what happened to drive her from Blue River?

Knowing those two things mattered. They were the keys to discovering her future. She understood that with a kind of certainty that nothing else in her life had ever offered…well, nothing she remembered.

His eyes shuttered, the emotion falling out of them with such suddenness that her heart caved. “But you don’t know who the man was?”

The need for clarification drove her deeper into the hay seat. “No.” Her heart thumped hard once, then steadied.

“Hey, boss.” One of the cowboys walked into the barn. He paused, his gaze swinging back and forth between them.

“What’s up?” Chase stood and tossed the hay he’d been playing with toward her.

She swatted it from the air and patted Samson’s jaw when the horse stuck his head out and blew a long breath into her hair. Chase and the cowboy carried on a quick but intense conversation, and when they finished, Chase rushed back to her. “I have to go.”

Her mouth formed the word ‘why’, but she snapped it back with pressed lips. He had more important things to do than sit and filter memory dreams with her.

And he’d not immediately told her the dream was an old memory. He’d not admitted he was the man in her dream.

She’d wanted that. It would have made so much sense and given her a point of reference for her future.

“You’re going to get mad at me for this.

” He leaned forward, his hands behind his back and his face inches from her.

“But it’s the only thing I’m comfortable saying.

It’s time to trust God’s timing. I can tell you that is a real memory, but that’s all I’m willing to say.

Have faith in yourself and in God that you’ll learn what you need to know, when you’re ready to learn it, or when it’s the right time. ”

An initial flush of resentment surged upward.

She’d told him she didn’t want platitudes, and this was the biggest one of all.

She sighed, but he had a point.

“Thank you.” She nudged his shin with the toe of her boot. “You should go.”

Whatever he’d talked with the cowboy about had looked important. The cowboy remained at the edge of the barn, his body tense and poised to flee.

He hesitated.

“Go. I’m fine, and you’re right.” She closed her eyes. “I’ll start on the chores in a few minutes.”

“Don’t fall asleep on the hay. Samson will eat your hair.” Laughter tinged his voice. “I should know.” His steps clomped, then receded.

She stayed in place a few seconds, but as fatigue and the release of adrenaline made her sleepy, she jumped to her feet.

Samson snorted and shook his head side to side in obvious disappointment from missing his hair snack. “You wouldn’t like it anyway. It’s nowhere near as good as the food I’m about to give you.”

Feeding and watering the horses had become second nature in the days since she’d started working at the ranch with Chase.

She didn’t have to think about it anymore as she went from the feed room time after time to scoop up buckets of feed and added supplements.

The horses greeted her with soft snorts and whiffles of thanks.

The routine gave her mind time to relax and think. She replayed the memory. Chase had confirmed it as a memory. “Thank you, Lord.” Her memories were coming back. Slower than she’d like, but a few memories were better than none.

An hour passed, then two. Three. By the time Chase returned to the barn, she’d finished every chore he taught her to do, even mucking out a few stalls that looked like they needed it. That one had been instinctual and straightforward.

She stopped in the middle of rolling the wheelbarrow up the middle of the aisle when he rounded the barn door.

Sweat streaked his face in dark lines. Mud covered the lower half of his jeans and his upper arms.

“Did you roll in mud?” A brow arched. “And you didn’t invite me?”

He scoffed and stalked to the spigot tucked into the corner by the door. Water gushed, and he scrubbed the worst of the mud from his skin. His jeans and shirt were a different story. After washing off, he frowned at his disgusting clothes. “Should have worn chaps.”

“What happened?” She maneuvered the wheelbarrow past him, rounded the barn to the manure pile, and dumped it. The smell used to make her gag. She still didn’t like the smell.

Chase tagged along behind her. “Cow stuck in the muck. She’d made a huge mess and laid down in it.” The smell of cow manure clung to him, and she pinched her nose, waving a hand in front of her face. “I’m going to change. Just wanted to check on you first.”

“I’d rather you change.” She took short, shallow breaths. “That’s ripe.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask you to go.” He waved his hands past his legs, wafting the scent toward her.

She turned on her heel with a gagging sound, leaving the wheelbarrow behind. “Gross.”

His laughter followed her all the way into the barn.

Things between them had changed so much since she’d first come back to Blue River.

He’d been sullen at first, and a few times in between.

But, things were comfortable and easy in a way she’d never expected.

Almost like how she’d felt in that memory.

Comfortable enough to put her heart out there and know that the man beside her would protect it like it was his own.

She kept busy, cleaning up a couple saddles and bridles with the cleaner she’d found, until he arrived in the barn carrying matching tumblers.

His damp hair spiraled out beneath his hat, the ends curling slightly. He brought a fresh scent to the barn, one that tickled the back of her mind with almost memories. “Brought you some coffee.”

“Oh, thanks.” She snatched the silver tumbler from him and took a long sip.

“That’s delicious.” Her stomach rumbled a reminder she’d skipped breakfast, and they were well into noon.

Eating hadn’t been a priority while her mind remained in such a state.

But the worst was over, and her hunger roared back with a vengeance.

“So.” She scuffed her toe in the dirt, making small half-moon shapes.

“What you said earlier about leaning on faith.”

He winced. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She rushed to reassure him. “You were right. I’ve been trying so hard to make myself remember, even when I said I wouldn’t.

I’ve put all that stress on myself because I thought I had to.

Like if I didn’t the memories would never come back.

I realized while you were gone that every memory has come back when I’ve been relaxed and not trying. ”

The admission stung. She’d listened to the doctors, heard their recommendations, but other than coming home, she’d ignored their years of expertise, thinking she knew her own mind better than they ever could.

“Turns out the doctors were right about me. The more I stress, the less likely I am to remember.”

“What are you going to do about that?” He concentrated on his coffee.

She longed to have him look at her the same way as the man in her dream.

“Trust. Patience.” She ticked off each one in her habitual manner. “I feel like I’ve finally reached a place I might never have been before with having faith in God. I’m trying to hold onto that and not let disappointment sway me in another direction.”

It was time she fully committed to God and allowed Him to offer her the guidance she desperately needed. Either she trusted Him, or she didn’t. There was no middle ground.

Chase’s verse made more sense to her with that realization.

He strayed to one of the stalls and patted the mare’s neck. “Let me know when you’re ready for that riding lesson. This is the horse I’d put you on.”

She eyed the mare, taking in the quiet eyes and head that leaned into Chase’s chest. “She’s sweet.” Every time Michelle came into the barn, the mare greeted her. She never tried to rush the feed box or splash water. “I’m ready now.”

His lips twitched. “I’ll get the saddle while you take her out of the stall.”

They spent the next two hours going through every step of how to saddle the mare.

Chase had her walk the mare up and down the middle of the barn and around the fenced area where he often put horses when mucking out their stalls.

He refused to let her into the saddle until she promised with her hand over her heart that she felt absolutely comfortable being there.

That single moment between putting her weight in the stirrup and swinging into the saddle left her weightless. And settling in the saddle—trusting the mare— reminded her of giving up the weight of her problems to God.