Harlequin Special Edition November 2014 - Box Set 1 of 2: A Weaver Christmas Gift\The Soldier's Holiday Homecoming\Santa's Playbook (31 page)

“Do you need to go back to the ranch now?” Rick asked as he pushed his plate aside. “If not, I can take you to my place and you can meet Mallory and our son, Lucas. I can't wait to introduce you.”

“I guess I should head back to the ranch. Maybe when my head is on a little straighter, I'll make a better impression on your wife and son.” Joe really wasn't up to meeting anyone right now, especially with his thoughts and feelings still jumbled. But it was nice that Rick had asked.

Joe took one last look at the picture of his parents, trying to get another vision, another memory, but nothing came to mind.

He handed the photos back to his brother. “I'm glad I can't remember how crappy life was before our mom died.”

“She had a prescription drug problem, which eventually killed her. She died of an overdose.”

A vision slammed into Joe, striking him as hard and unexpected as the Silverado pickup that had hit him in the dead of night, causing his amnesia in the first place.

Overdose
.

Dave, cold and lifeless, sprawled out on the kitchen floor. The pain meds he used to swallow—two and three at a time, washed down by whatever liquid was handy.

Bits and pieces of his memory merged with the disjointed dreams he'd had, unleashing a storm of emotion: Worry and disappointment, irritation and resentment.

And it all came back to him.

Well, not all of it. But the memories of a battlefield will... Joe blinked, remembering Dave giving it to him, as well as the message Dave had asked Joe to deliver on his death and the reckless, suicidal rush at the Taliban insurgents... They were still a bit scattered, but they were clues enough.

He finally understood why he'd returned to Brighton Valley in the first place. He'd promised Dave he would deliver that letter, which Chloe hadn't let him read.

The annoyance he'd felt off and on since the accident rose up inside of him, bordering on anger. And a sense of betrayal lanced his heart.

Dave had loved that woman enough to give her everything. And she'd led him on, convincing him that she loved him, too. Then she'd dumped him, and Dave had chosen death over life without her.

Just like Joe's mom had done when she hadn't been able to cope after their dad abandoned his family for that stripper.

More distrust and suspicion crept over him as another vision, this one recent, flashed before him: Chloe in the Cummings den, digging through files and scanning papers.

She'd looked up and spotted him in the doorway, guilt splashed across her face.

Her reaction had left him uneasy at the time, and now he knew why. He hadn't trusted her.

But why? What clues had he missed? He racked his brain, trying to recall things she'd said to him when they'd talked about the Rocking C.

As the fragments of their conversations came back to him, he tried to make sense of them.

I'm trying my best to hold everything together until I know what's going to happen with the ranch.

Had she already known about Dave's death before the sheriff had notified her? Joe had, but that memory had been lost with all the rest.

I don't want to move until the new owner is located.

Joe had quizzed her about that at the time.
The new owner
?

Whoever stands to inherit the ranch now that Dave is gone.

Chloe had given him the impression that she planned to move on. Yet she seemed to have settled in at the Rocking C, even going so far as to decorate the house for Christmas.

Joe had asked if she'd like a ranch of her own, and if so, would she give up her plan to go to nursing school.

I don't know. Maybe. I'd probably invite some friends to live with me, so I'm not sure how much time I'd have to study.

Damn. Did she already have plans to take over the Rocking C? Would she fill it with friends and freeloaders?

I'd like to visit Sam Darnell, a retired cowboy I know, and ask him a few questions about ranching
.

So she did mean to stay on and to make a go of the place. Apparently, she'd planned to all along. And when Joe had seen her in the den, rifling through the files, she must have been looking for a will or a deed or something that would secure her claim.

His gut twisted as suspicion settled over him. He shifted in his seat, but was unable to shake it.

What had that last letter said? Had Dave told her what he'd planned to do—and that he'd left her the ranch?

“Are you okay?” Rick asked. “You look a little shaken and confused.”

Was it that obvious?

Joe blew out a sigh. “I've just had a major breakthrough, Rick. Things are still a little sketchy, but images and memories are slamming into me, along with a slew of emotions I'm trying to deal with. And the more I think about it, the less comfortable I feel about staying at the ranch. Would you mind taking me back for my things, then dropping me off at the Night Owl?”

“I'll take you anywhere you want to go. But if you're looking for a place to stay, come home with me. Mallory and I have a guest room, and you're more than welcome to stay with us as long as you'd like. Besides, I want you to meet Lucas. He's a great kid—and the spitting image of you.”

Joe had been a loner most of his adult life, but he didn't want to be alone tonight. “If you're sure Mallory won't mind.”

“She's eager to meet you—and she'll be glad to have you with us, especially for Christmas.” Rick reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. “But why don't you just drop me off at the clinic and take my truck to pick up your stuff from the ranch?”

Joe took the keys, while Rick picked up the check. “Thanks. It won't take me long to pack.”

“Keep the truck as long as you need it.”

Joe didn't expect to be more than a few minutes at the ranch, just long enough to talk to Chloe. And to say the words he'd meant to have with her when he'd first crossed city limits.

* * *

Chloe was seated in the kitchen, staring out the bay window, when she saw Dr. Martinez's truck pull in the driveway. She knew Joe would be returning soon, but she hadn't expected to see him behind the wheel.

That was odd. She couldn't imagine a busy veterinarian like Rick not needing his vehicle, which meant Joe must not be planning to stay long.

Oh, for Pete's sake. What was wrong with her? The man hadn't even entered the house and she was already reading way too much into the situation. But one look at the scowl marring his face, and she knew something wasn't right before he even made it to the back porch.

She met him at the mudroom door, just as he let himself in. Before she could quiz him about driving his brother's truck, he said, “I came to pick up my stuff.”

“What? Why?” She followed him to the guest room, hating herself for morphing into the kind of woman who got all clingy when a man was trying to leave. But she deserved to know just what in the heck was going on.

He pulled open the dresser drawers and piled his new pants and shirts on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I'm getting my things.”

“Why?”

He turned to her, his eyes full of something she'd never seen in his expression before. Disgust? Blame? Anger?

“I had a major breakthrough while I was at Caroline's Diner with my brother.”

That should have been a good thing, but why was he so...cold?

“A big chunk of my memory came flooding back almost all at once, and I finally remembered the real reason I came to Brighton Valley in the first place.” He scanned the room, his gaze landing on the clothes he'd placed on the bed, then he raked his hand through his hair. “Dammit, I don't even have a freakin' suitcase.”

“I can get you a bag—if you need it.” She still didn't understand why he wanted to leave.

“I probably should have just left all of this here, anyway. It's not like I'm going to need any ranch clothes any time soon. Unlike you, who'll apparently get everything your scheming heart had hoped for.”

What was he talking about?

And just who did he think he was talking to?

“Slow down, Joe. What in the world is going on?”

He tore his gaze from the folded clothing, from the bed where they'd so recently made love and zeroed in on her. “I'm talking about what you did to Dave. How you convinced the poor guy to leave everything to you. And then you dumped him, right when he needed you most.”

“What?” Chloe crossed her arms. “I didn't convince Dave of anything.”

“Right. Well, that's not how he figured it. He was crazy in love with you, and you broke his heart. Hell, the truth of the matter is, you broke
him
.”

Chloe closed her eyes, Joe's words echoing the guilt that she felt since learning about Dave's death. For the briefest of moments she wanted to turn away in shame, but she shook off the misplaced feelings.

“Listen, Joe. It wasn't like that with me and Dave. We never had anything together. We certainly never had...” She waved her hand between the two of their bodies. “We never had this.”

“This?”
Joe gazed at her, his expression accusing her all over again.

But she held firm. Dave hadn't been emotionally stable, and she hadn't done anything wrong.

“What we had wasn't...” Joe's voice trailed off, and his expression softened. Then he sat on the bed, shoulders slumped.

The nurse in her was ready to forgive him for lashing out at her when his memories still had to be a jumbled up mess. But the woman who'd given him her heart was crushed.

“What we
had?
” she asked.

“Hell, I don't know. Had. Have. I won't deny that I fell for you, but I can't very well stay out here with you knowing now what I should have known all along.”

“And what's that, Joe? What
do
you know? Please clue me in, because you seem to suddenly have all the answers, and I can't even begin to understand why you're so angry—especially at me.”

“I don't know. Maybe because Dave was one of my men—and a buddy. And I knew how damn much he loved you, idolized you. And maybe because I crossed a code of honor between friends.”

“Dave only
thought
he was in love with me. He was upset over his mom's illness and death and he latched on to me and mistook the friendship I offered him. But I assure you, it was only friendship on my side. I never lied to him or misled him. In fact, I even sent him a letter explaining as clearly as I could that nothing romantic would ever happen between us.”

“Yeah.” Joe leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees and held his head as if to shake loose his thoughts—or maybe to hold them still. “I saw what that letter did to his psyche. Hell, what it did to his whole career. Crap, what it did to
my
whole career. Your so-called ‘clear explanation' caused him to lose it when we were under attack.” He looked up, caught her gaze. “You know my nightmare?”

Chloe said nothing, not wanting to be reminded of their passionate lovemaking that had followed that same frightening dream. Not when he'd just practically accused her of killing Dave herself.

“It all came back to me. Before running into the gunfire, Dave told me he couldn't go on without you. So, yes, I'm familiar with that carefully worded letter you sent him.”

She felt compelled to ease closer, to sit next to him on the bed, but her wounded pride wouldn't have been able to recover if he got up or moved away. So she stood firm and tried to reason with him. “If you remember Dave's words and his recklessness, then surely you must know how sensitive he was. How he didn't handle things very well. I'm sorry that he's dead, and I'm sorry that your knee and your career are blown. But those were a result of Dave's actions, not mine.”

He blew out a ragged breath, but he held his thoughts at bay.

“Was I supposed to lie to him and let him think there was something between us? Do you think I should have promised to be waiting for him when he came home from war?”

Joe gazed up at her, his eyes filled with accusation. “But you
were
waiting for him. You even told me that you were taking care of the place for him. Or maybe you were just taking care of your own investment, banking on Dave's fragile mental state to secure you a ranch of your own.”

He couldn't have shocked her more, hurt her more, if he'd struck her with his fist.

“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I've wasted months of my life holding this place together because I promised his mom, not him, that I would. How would his death in any way benefit me?”

“Because Dave signed a battlefield will right before he died leaving the entire ranch to you.”

Chloe almost sunk to the floor. Her hand, which trembled with indignation only seconds ago, flew to her mouth, which was incapable of speech anyway.

Joe's expression held no warmth, no familiarity. “That's why I came to Brighton Valley. To deliver my buddy's letter and to see for myself just what kind of woman would take a poor sucker like him for everything he had.”

“Are you kidding me? I can't believe that you think me capable of that. How could I...? How could
you,
especially after we...?” She didn't know what she was trying to say, but she was too stunned to continue.

“If my memory had been intact, nothing would've happened two nights ago.”

Now even the compassionate nurse in her let sympathy and understanding go by the wayside. His accusations were so far-fetched. But still, she could only handle so much confrontation, and it didn't look like there was anything she could say to change his mind. And right this minute, her pride didn't want her to even try. So she stayed silent, fuming with indignation.

“I'll be staying at my brother's house for a while, at least until I can wrap my head around everything.” He got to his feet and reached for the folded clothes. “But don't worry. I won't interfere with the probate or bother you anymore.”

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