Ride With Me (A Quaking Heart Novel - Book One)

  Chapter 33

  Want. Carried on Jessica's warm breath, the word stirred something not so innocent in Clint. He plunked her down and stepped back so quickly he nearly knocked her over.

  She looked puzzled.

  He worked at quieting new thoughts that had been tossed into his mind. It was his responsibility now to keep her pure. That would take re-training. He didn't know how to go about that and love her as well—without the bonds of marriage, at least.

  He'd never felt so inept. All at once his flight mode kicked in. Mary's words came back. Are you thinking of running scared like you usually do when someone gets too close? Was that true now?

  After a rest and a snack they continued their trek. In order to keep his distance from Jessie—in spite of her bewildered look—Clint had busied himself securing their supplies and then followed at the rear of their group. The day had grown warm, and as they continued to descend the mountain, the change in altitude brought more heat and a western sun blazing straight into their eyes. They had all grown weary, and Clint was anxious for the familiar place where the main camp came into view.

  At the next switch in the road, a large shadow crossed in front of the group. Clint watched as it grew larger and stretched farther. Jessie gasped, and jumped backward, hitting the wall that was Clint.

  Clint caught her in his arms. "Steady, now," he said next to her ear, then spun her behind him. "Hold up, ladies."

  With his rifle tucked into his shoulder, Clint stole around the bend with Johnnie close on his heels.

  Seeing what had caused the shadow, both men broke into hearty laughter. Jessie rounded the corner. Her face split into a delighted grin when she saw them patting his horse. The gelding casually lipped meadow grasses, as the afternoon sun cast his shadow across the road.

  "So, you decided to stick around, huh boy?" Clint said as he stepped closer to run a hand down the gelding's neck.

  The others crowded around, stroking the horse like he was some sort of homecoming all his own. All but Jessie, that was. Clint glanced over his shoulder and caught sight of Jessie standing off from the group under the shade of a pine, her brows furrowed. A tingle of trepidation skittered down Clint's spine at her expression. Grasping the reins, he handed them to Johnnie and strode over to her, careful not to block her view of his horse. "What is it, Jessie?"

  "I remember him. I remember riding on him . . ." She turned to face him. "With you," she said, blinking in surprise.

  Relief spread over him like a warm blanket on a wintry day. "That's great."

  "Shadow," she said.

  "Yeah, he did cast a big shadow, didn't he." He chuckled.

  "No. I mean, I think we should call him Shadow."

  He paused, and then threw his head back and gave in to a long overdue belly laugh, so reassured and down-right happy, he could bust.

  Jessie watched and listened, smiling up at him. The first unguarded smile he'd seen from her since she'd awoken. It took him aback.

  "I remember that laugh," she whispered. "I know I've always loved it."

  Laughter drained away. His eyes blurred with tears. Thank you, Lord. She's remembering.

  Jessie looked back at his horse. He watched as her brows knit together and the smile slid away, and just like that a river of dread coursed straight through his soul.

  Without a trace of doubt he knew she was straining for a memory—one that was going to bring pain.

  Still watching the gelding, she said, "When we were on your horse, another woman was there." Bringing her fingers to her temple, she rubbed, as if doing so would make her remember. "She was mad." Jessie turned her face up to him. "At you. Because of me." She swallowed hard, then on a whisper said, "She's your girl . . ."

  "No, Jessie—"

  "Please stop. Don't explain."

  He didn't know what to say. Her hurt expression staggered him as much as it seemed to have surprised her. He tried to swallow the growing lump. Would all her memories come back this partially? If he wasn't with her to explain each one, would she misinterpret what she was remembering? Considering his unsteady feelings and their tumultuous past, he was already unsure of their future. As prospects of that future dimmed, fear set in again, and with it a new understanding. He cared deeply about having a future with this woman—however he could have it.

  The nagging question remained. Would she love him or hate him when she finally remembered it all?

  She looked ready to flee so Clint grasped her elbows and brought her close. Her eyes glittered. "Jessie, listen to me carefully. I don't know how your memories will return, but I'm asking you to please come to me if they're not making any sense. Will you promise me that?"

  She seemed conflicted, still locked in thought about her latest revelation. His anxiety rose when she didn't answer.

  "Little one?"

  Still no answer.

  He took hold of her shoulder and gave it a slight shake. "Jessie!"

  The fog seemed to lift out of her eyes as she focused on him. "Yes?" she said weakly.

  She was tired. To press her now would only create more doubts. Not able to help himself, he pulled her to him for a deep hug and was reminded how she fit so perfectly, locked in his arms with his face nuzzling the top of her head.

  He forced himself to release her and took her by the hand to the gelding's side. While Johnnie saddled the animal, Shadow lifted his muzzle and snuffled Jessie's hair. If a horse could sigh, Shadow did, and then he leaned his forehead against her chest. His hide rippled in pleasure as he nudged her.

  Clint chuckled. "He remembers you."

  Jessie smiled up at Clint, making his hide react the same way. Wrapping her arms around the gelding's head, she kissed him between the eyes then scratched behind his ears. "Yeah, I guess he does."

  "Come on. It's getting late." He helped her into the saddle that Johnnie had just cinched up, threw the saddle bags into place, then looked at Rose Marie and Mary. "Which one of you wants to ride with Jessie?"

  Rose Marie looked surprised at his offer to them both. "Grandma should ride. I'm fine."

  Jessica relaxed once she and Mary were aboard, secretly glad for the reprieve to her recovering body. Clint took the reins in hand and headed on down the road, pulling his newly named horse behind him.

  Jessica fell into the sway of Shadow's gait and glanced about the countryside, sighing at the assault of its beauty, until her gaze landed on the mystery man in front of her. Who was he? He treated her like she meant something to him, but that was impossible. She may not remember who she was, but she seemed to know the type of men she would attract, and none would be like him. He was charming. Of course he was. Just look at him. So, the only answer was, he was being attentive because of her amnesia. That had to be it.

  Jessica knew she should be tied in knots over her loss of memory. But all of that took second place behind the cowboy in front of her. She studied him. Thick, saddle brown hair curled beneath his cowboy hat. His shoulders seemed to go on forever, which made his waist that much leaner and his hips that much narrower. Well-constructed legs. She was mesmerized by his loose-hipped strides, his brawny backside flexing . . . with each . . . and every . . . generous . . . step.

  Heat powered up Jessica's neck, all the way to the top of her head. A thought came to her, as potent as the warmth filling her cheeks. Was appreciation of a male body the same as lust?

  She cleared her throat with gusto.

  Clint whirled around. His hand caught the bridle to keep the gelding from tossing his head. He raised his face to her, revealing concerned emerald-colored eyes beneath that worn black hat. "You all right?"

  Her appreciation was running rampant now. She cleared her throat a second time, smiled, and waved him on.