“Oh, my goodness, no. The last I checked, he had eyes for my sister. But I don’t think she’s aware of his interest in her, and now that he’s out of town, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“It might when he gets back.”

“For him, maybe. But for her? I doubt it. I can’t see Donna dating a ranch hand. She’s Ms. New York. Not that I have a right to criticize her.”

“Why? Are you a fussy dater, too? Are you as picky about your men as your sister is about hers?”

She glanced away and started fidgeting. He’d obviously struck a chord. He should have left it alone, but he was too damned curious to drop it.

“Come on, Jenna. Fess up.”

“There’s nothing to fess.”

He frowned, suddenly imagining her in a bad relationship. “Did someone hurt you? Did you get your heart broken?”

“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that.”

He felt immediately better. She’d been so kind to him, he didn’t want to envision someone being unkind to her. “Then what is it?”

“I guess it won’t matter if I tell you. But you’re probably going to think it’s dumb.” She blew out a breath and continued, “I made a list of the qualities I want in a man, and I’m following it to the letter.”

Well, then. That certainly wasn’t what he expected. “I hope you find what you want.”

“Me, too.”

In the next curious instant, he wondered what sorts of qualities she was after. “Maybe you can show me the list sometime.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? Do you have sexual things on it?”

She straightened her spine, looking like a sweet little prude. “I can’t believe you asked me that.”

“Hey, you’re the one who gave me a sexy name, remember?”

“I already explained that I didn’t mean that literally.”

“I know.” He shot her a smile. “I was just teasing you.”

“You have a wicked sense of humor.”

He wondered if a sense of humor was on her list, but decided not to push the issue or tease her anymore about it.

Still, he couldn’t get the list out of his mind. Sooner or later, he would probably ask her about it again.

He set Caleb’s clothes aside and picked up the toiletry satchel. “Is there a shaving kit in here?”

“Truthfully, I’ve never taken inventory of what Donna puts in those, but she’s a really thorough person, so I’m betting there is. I grabbed that from the supply room. I didn’t even tell her that I was taking it.”

“Let’s see how thorough she is, shall we?”

“Sure. Let’s see.”

He opened the bag and started removing the items, placing them on the coffee table and reciting them, one by one. “Soap. Shampoo. Conditioner. Lotion. Toothpaste and mouthwash. Ah here we go. Shaving cream and disposable razors.”

“Donna came through.”

“Yes, she did.” He reached into the satchel again. “There’s a small box of some kind. It’s wedged at the bottom.” He dug it out of the bag and as soon as he held it up, he wanted to shove it back inside.

Condoms.

He looked at Jenna and she stared back at him. He couldn’t think of a thing to say.

And apparently neither could she.

Jenna wanted to strangle herself for not checking out the items ahead of time. She wanted to strangle Donna, too, for being far more thorough than necessary.

Before the silence swallowed them alive, she managed a lame comment. “I guess my sister really did think of everything.”

“She sure did.” He seemed relieved that Jenna had broken the ice. He even smiled.

She was relieved that the moment had passed, too, but she struggled to summon a smile. Her heart was still beating with a quick cadence.

He put the condoms next to the razors. “Are you close?”

“What?”

“You and your sister?”

Funny he should ask. “No. I was just mentioning that to her this morning. How unalike we are. How we don’t communicate all that well to each other.”

“Did you discuss why?”

“No, but it’s because of our family dynamics when we were growing up. Our parents got divorced when we were little, and we lived with our mom. Then she died when I was eight and Donna was nine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It was ovarian cancer. I still miss her—Mom and I were close. Donna never bonded with her, or anyone, for that matter. But I think Donna wished she’d been closer to Mom. Sometimes, after Mom died, I used to catch her gazing at Mom’s pictures in the most horribly sad way, but then Donna would look away, as if she didn’t want me to know how badly she was hurting.”

“What happened to you and Donna after your mom passed away?”

“We went to live with our dad. But he worked a lot, and we learned to fend for ourselves. I always wondered about my grandfather and his ranch. Secretly I wanted to meet him. But I knew Dad was estranged from his family, so I didn’t talk to him about it. Dad isn’t easy to talk to.”

“You are.”

She felt her cheeks go warm. “Really?”

“I’d tell you about myself if I knew who I was.”

“The way I’m blabbing? Somehow, I doubt that.”

“You’re not blabbing. I asked you about your family and you’re answering my questions.”

In way too much detail, she thought. But it felt good to get some of it off her chest. “The American dream was lost on my family.”

“How common is that, really? How many people get to live that kind of life?”

“I don’t know. But someday I want to create a family of my own, one that will be bonded and true to each other.”

“Husband, kids, picket fence?”

She nodded. “I want a man who shares my love of the country. I feel blessed that I inherited part of this ranch. It’s everything to me now, and I want it to be everything to my future husband.”

“That stands to reason.” He paused. “So, what was your grandfather like?”

“He went by the name of Tex. He was an ornery old guy, but charming, too. I regret not having the opportunity to know him better, but I’m grateful that he welcomed me into his life when he did.” She thought about everything that had transpired recently. “Doc was his private physician. That’s how he and Tammy met.”

“And then they had dreams about each other that came true?” He glanced toward the bedroom. “If you don’t mind me asking, what were those dreams?”

She’d avoided mentioning them earlier, but she supposed it didn’t really matter since Doc and Tammy spoke openly about their experiences. “Tammy dreamed that she and Doc had a romantic evening in this cabin before it actually happened.”

Clearly, J.D. wasn’t impressed. “That’s not very groundbreaking.”

“Tammy worked hard to catch Doc’s eye. In fact, I helped her with a makeover. She was a tomboy for most of her life and didn’t know how to doll herself up.”

“Doc doesn’t seem like he’s from around here.”

“He isn’t. He’s originally from Philadelphia, and he came here to pay a debt to the man who put him through medical school, and that debt involved caring for our grandfather.” She shifted on the sofa. “Doc was planning on leaving afterward and going back to his life in the city, then he fell in love with Tammy. He dreamed that they were happily married with three kids.”

He frowned. “That’s not a magic dream. They’re not even married yet, and there aren’t any kids.”

“They’re going to be married, and the kids will come later. Besides, they both dreamed about the same little dark-haired girl.”

“Really?” He was obviously surprised.

“Yes, and someday that little girl is going to be born to them.” Jenna was certain of it.

J.D. didn’t respond, but she was glad that they’d had this discussion. Offering him a break, she said, “You should probably rest again.”

“I won’t be able to take another nap.”

“You can watch TV.”

“I don’t like TV.”

“So you do know something about yourself.”

“I’m only saying that because when I turned on the TV in the hospital, it bored me.”

“Then it probably bored you before you got amnesia, too.”

“I don’t know, but the man next to me sure liked to watch it.”

“Yes, he did. I didn’t care for his taste in shows.” Especially the game show that reeked of her childhood. Jenna had always been sensitive about her youth, but even more so now that she was dealing with the Savannah Jeffries issue and her dad’s part in it.

“What do you watch?” J.D. asked.

She pulled herself back into the conversation. “The news mostly. I like Animal Planet, too. Sometimes I watch romantic comedies.”

“Is that what’s called chick flicks?”

She nodded.

He got up and stood beside the living-room window. “So, how long have you had that list of yours?”

Dang. He was back to that. “Awhile.”

“How long is awhile?”

“Since I was twenty-five, and I’m thirty now.”

“Five years? That is awhile. Have you been refining it?”

“I added a few things about the ranch since I came here.”

“About your future husband loving this place?”

“Yes.” Restless, she reached for the clothes she’d loaned him. “But the list is mostly the same as it was five years ago. I knew what qualities I wanted in a man then, and I still want him to have those same qualities now.”

“I couldn’t begin to make a list. I don’t know what I expect out of myself, let alone someone else.”

“You’ll know all about yourself once your memory comes back.”

“I still can’t imagine making a list.”

“Then you’re probably not a type-A personality like I am.”

“I suppose not.” He motioned to the clothes. “Is that part of your type-A nature?”

She glanced down. Apparently she’d been folding and refolding the same pair of jeans. “I’m just …”

“What?”

Nervous, she thought. But she said, “I’m just trying to help you get organized.” She quickly folded each article of clothing, then went after the toiletries, dropping them back into the bag. She made sure the condoms went first, keeping them out of sight and out of mind. “I’ll put all of this away for you.”

“Sure. Okay. Thanks.” He smiled a little. “I was going to leave everything there until I needed it.”

So much for blocking the condoms from her mind. He wouldn’t need those while he was staying at the Flying B, would he? Not unless he found a local girl to mess around with once he started feeling better.

Jenna frowned and headed for the bedroom.

He tagged along. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You seem flustered. If I’m too much work for you, just leave that stuff, Jenna. I’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not flustered.” She just didn’t like envisioning him with another woman.

As opposed to him being with her? She reprimanded herself. She shouldn’t be entertaining those sorts of thoughts. J.D. could have sex with whoever met his fancy.

Trouble was, he met the physical requirements on her list. Of course she knew that being sexually attracted to someone wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship. Every piece of the puzzle had to fit.

While she put his borrowed clothes in the dresser, he sat on the edge of the bed.

“You should stay in this cabin after I’m gone,” he said.

“Why?”

“So you can sleep here.” He patted the bed.

Her pulse went haywire. “I already told you there’s nothing I need to dream about.”

“I was talking about the comfort factor.”

“I have a comfortable bed in my room.”

“Do you have an old feather mattress?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll bet it doesn’t compare. I sank right into this bed. It’s pretty darn amazing.”

She glanced away. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s interesting that you don’t think you have anything to dream about.”

She turned to look at him again. “What do you mean?”

“Seems to me that you’d want to dream about the man you’re hoping to marry.”

“I don’t need to see him in a dream. I’ll know who he is when I meet him in person.”

“You’ll recognize him from the list? That must be some list.”

“It is to me. But most people probably wouldn’t think much of it.”

“Where do you keep it?”

“I have a file on my computer. But I keep a copy in my purse, too.”

“You carry it around?” He flashed his lopsided grin. “That’s over the top.”

His cavalier attitude annoyed her. “Keeping it close at hand helps me to stay focused.”

“So you can checkmark it when you’re on a date?” His grin got even more crooked. “I feel sorry for the poor saps who take you out, having to live up to whatever your expectations are.”

“Your sense of humor is wearing thin, J.D.”

“Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“How would you know if you’ve ever met anyone like me?”

“I wouldn’t, I guess. But logic tells me that you’re one of a kind.”

“You think I’m weird.” She tromped into the bathroom to put his toiletries away.

Soon she felt his presence behind her. She sensed that he was looming in the doorway, watching her. She ignored him. The condoms were the last items she put away. She placed them in the cabinet under the sink, stood up and turned in his direction.

He said, “I don’t think you’re weird. I think you’re sweet and beautiful and unique.”

He was looking at her with tenderness in his eyes, and now she longed to reach out and hold him. “Thank you. That was a nice thing to say.”

“I meant every word.”

The bathroom was small already, and now the walls were closing in.

“I should get going,” she said.

“You don’t have to leave yet.”

She glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late.”

“But I want you to stay.” He didn’t move away from the doorway, trapping her where she was.

J.D. scrambled for an excuse to keep her there. “I need you to help me put the groceries away.”

“You already put them away.”

“I just put the bags in the fridge. I didn’t unload them.”

“Oh, my goodness. Really? There was frozen food in those. And canned goods and …” She shook her head. “You should have unpacked them.”

“So help me do it now.”

She made a tsk-tsk sound. “Who doesn’t look in a grocery bag to see what’s in it?”

He smiled. “A guy recovering from a concussion?”

She returned his smile, and he realized he’d just charmed her. It made him feel good inside, but a bit anxious, too. He shouldn’t be asking her to spend more time with him.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s put the food away properly.”

He cleared the doorway, allowing her to pass by him. As her body breezed by his, he got a zipper-tugging sensation. He took a rough breath and followed her to the kitchen. While he was walking behind her, he checked her out. She was lean and gently toned. Had he always been partial to small-framed girls?

She made a beeline for the fridge and removed the bags. Together, they unloaded them. She’d gotten him a variety of stuff to choose from: frozen pizza, fresh fruit, ready-made salads, boxed macaroni and cheese, sandwich fixings, canned chili, soup and crackers, pudding cups, cereal and milk.

Meals designed for a bachelor, he thought. “Thank you again for everything you’ve been doing for me. I really do intend to repay you.”

“All I want is for you to get better,” she said, repeating what she’d told him earlier. “That will be payment enough.”

“I’m glad you didn’t get anything that requires cooking skills. I don’t think I’d be very good in that regard.”

“We have that in common.”

He nodded. She’d already mentioned that she wasn’t much of a cook.

After they completed their task, he said, “Will you sit outside with me before you go?” He was still looking for excuses to keep her there, and since the cabin was equipped with a quaint little porch, it provided a cozy atmosphere. “We can have some pudding.”

She accepted the invitation, and they settled into mismatched chairs. The air was rife with something sweet. Honeysuckle, maybe. Foliage grew along the sides of the building.

As he spooned into his dessert, he looked at Jenna, impressed with how beautifully she fit into the environment. Her hair caught the setting sun, making it look even blonder. He couldn’t explain why her hair was a source of fascination. Was it because his was so dark? His skin was a lot darker than hers, too.

“I wish I could cook,” she said, her mind obviously back in the kitchen.

“You could learn, couldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. Every time I try to make something, it tastes awful. Maybe I’ll ask Tammy if she can give me some pointers.”

“The way you gave her pointers about dolling herself up?”

Jenna smiled. “It might be a good trade.”

“Sounds like it to me.” He studied her again. She certainly knew how to make herself look pretty. Whatever she was wearing on her lips created a warm, kissable effect. “You can use me as a guinea pig if you want.”

“For my cooking?”

Or kissing, he thought. “Yes, cooking.”

“You’re already suffering from a head injury. I don’t want to poison you, too.”

“I’m sure I’d survive it.”

“I’d rather not take the chance.”

“I probably won’t be here long enough anyway.” No poison food. No soft, sweet, poison kisses, either. He needed to stop thinking about how alluring she was.

“Do you like the pudding?” she asked.

He glanced at his cup. He’d only taken a few bites. He’d been too busy admiring her. “Yes, it’s good.”

“Butterscotch is my favorite.”

He noticed that she’d barely made a dent in hers, either. “You’re not gobbling it up very quickly.”

“I’m savoring it.”

“So am I,” he lied, when in fact, he’d been savoring her.

“This is nice, sitting out here with you.”

“Thanks. I think so, too.” He couldn’t envision anything nicer. Well, actually he could, but he’d warned himself not to obsess about kissing her. “We’re becoming friends.”

Friends and only friends, he reiterated.

While a soft Texas breeze blew, he asked, “What’s the name of this town?”

“Buckshot Hills. I’m surprised no one told you before now.”

“It must have slipped their minds.”

“It slipped mine. I wonder how long it will take for Deputy Tobbs to start questioning the locals about you.”

“Soon, I hope.”

“Once you’re feeling better, I can take you on a tour of the Flying B and introduce you to the people who work here, like Deputy Tobbs suggested.”

“Wouldn’t it be ironic if I was on my way to visit someone at the Flying B when I got hurt?”

“It would certainly solve the mystery, and quickly, too.”

There was a mixed-up part of him that wished he’d been on his way to visit her, that she’d been his agenda. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to control his attraction to her. He even worried that he might have an intimate dream about her tonight, with or without a so-called magic bed.

After they finished their pudding, she said, “I really should go now.”

He didn’t try to stop her. It was better to have some distance between them.

She left, and he watched her go.

About an hour later, someone rapped at the door, and he jumped up to answer it, wondering if she’d returned.

But it was Doc, with his medical bag.

The other man said, “Jenna told me that she put you up in this cabin. How do you like it?”

“It’s fine. But I don’t believe that the bed is magical. I know you do, though.”

“I’m a man of science, but I’ve learned that sometimes logic doesn’t apply.”

J.D. didn’t respond, and the subject was dropped. Regardless, the feeling remained. He was still concerned that he might have a sensual dream.

Doc examined him and recommended more bed rest. J.D. followed orders and went to sleep early that night. He didn’t dream about Jenna.

Much to his shock, he dreamed about himself, with an emotion-packed glimpse of who he was as a child.

Chapter Four

Jenna looked across the table at Donna. They were having breakfast together again, and today Donna was paging through wallpaper samples that were stacked beside her.

“We really should stop meeting like this,” Jenna said.

Her sister glanced up and rolled her eyes. But she smiled, too, lightening the moment.

After their mom died, they rarely shared a meal. They would just grab their food and go. Actually, they hadn’t dined together all that much when Mom had been around, either. She’d been depressed over the divorce, then she’d gotten sick.

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