Snowbound Targets

Grateful, she accepted it and carried it over to the kitchen table, where she took a seat. Taking a tentative sip, she smiled as the rich flavors filled her mouth. “This is good. I think this is how I like it.”

“Good.” Carrying his own mug, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat. “How are you feeling?”

Again, she had to stop and reflect on a seemingly simple question. Finally, she settled for honesty. “I’m not sure. I have a few lumps and bumps, plus bruises all over my body. I have no idea how I got them.”

“Let me see,” he ordered. Then, softening his tone, he amended his request. “Please.”

Slowly, she pushed up her sleeve. First one, then the other, exposing the pattern of purple, black and blue. “My legs look the same. And my stomach and back.”

His harsh intake of breath made her tense. He swore, low enough that the curse word was almost imperceptible. “It looks like someone hit you, numerous times. By all rights, you should have a broken bone or two to go with those.”

She shivered. “Nothing is broken that I can tell. I’m a bit stiff and sore, but the hot shower helped with that.” Taking another sip of coffee, she managed a small smile. ‘And this is helping me feel better too.”

“You don’t remember what happened either?” His watchful gaze held enough compassion to make the back of her throat ache.

“No. I wish I did.”

“Any dreams that you can recall? Maybe your subconscious might try to communicate that way.”

She thought for a moment. While she sensed she’d dreamed, to her best recollection those dreams were a swirl of chaotic colors and seemingly unrelated movements. “Nothing,” she finally admitted.

At her response, he dragged his large hand through his unruly hair. Somehow, this only made him look more dangerous. Was he?

“It was worth a shot,” he said.

She took a deep breath. To trust him or not, that was the million-dollar question. However, in the end, what choice did she really have?

“I need your help,” she admitted. “I’m beginning to see that you didn’t ask for any of this, but then neither did I. I feel like I might be in some sort of danger.”

He stiffened, his gaze instantly alert. “From whom?”

“That I don’t know. Like everything else. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but I just have a gut feeling. A sense of lurking danger, if you will. There’s no logic or reasoning behind it. I could be wrong.” She sighed. “Honestly, there’s no way to tell without my memory.”

She watched him while he considered her words. His sheer size could have made him seem intimidating, though for her she found it made her feel safe. He’d been nothing but kind to her, even though he would have been within his rights to toss her out the door.

“I think I’ll go into town and do some investigating,” he finally said. “Will you be okay here alone?”

Would she? “I suppose so. But are you sure you trust me enough to leave me alone in your home?”

He laughed at that, a warm masculine sound that managed to coax a smile from her. “You were alone here before I got home. I don’t see the difference.”

As Jason drove slowly down his steep drive, he couldn’t help but glance back at the cabin. This place had long been his refuge, a place known to only a few select friends. How, then, had the mysterious woman he’d try to call Lucy gotten there?

Of course, everyone in the small mountain community of Cedar knew about his place. His family had been coming here for decades before he’d purchased it from his parents. Maybe the mystery would turn out to be as simple as that. It was entirely possible Lucy might turn out to be a local who’d known the cabin sat empty most of the year and decided to use it as her refuge.

Though Jason hadn’t planned on being around people for at least a week or two, he needed to check with the sheriff and see if any missing-person reports had been filed. That would be a good place to start in his quest to determine her identity.

Main Street in Cedar, Colorado, could have been a Christmas-card photo. The storefronts were meticulously maintained, even though they experienced far less tourism than other parts of the state due to their distance from any ski resort. With buildings constructed of red brick and wood, the aspen-lined street gave off a homey, welcoming feel.

He parked in front of Joe’s Hardware, grinning at the thought of saying hello to Joe after his many months’ long absence. Too long, he thought.

A bell over the door jingled as he went inside.

“Be right with you,” Joe called out without looking up from a box full of tools he had on the counter. Due to the time of the year, snow shovels and a snowmobile were on display, along with Christmas lights.

Jason prowled the aisles, enjoying the sense that he’d returned home. Unlike many of the locals, he hadn’t grown up in Cedar, though his family had owned the cabin high on the mountainside for decades. They’d routinely made the trip from Colorado Springs, spending a few weeks in the cabin every summer.

After his father died, his mother had decided to sell the place. Jason had promptly bought it. He’d done some extensive renovations, updating the roof and plumbing and heating system. Though he spent much of his life traveling due to his career, he enjoyed having a place to return to where he could find a modicum of peace.

Joe finally looked up. When he caught sight of Jason, he let out a loud whoop. “Well, look at you,” he exclaimed. “About time you decided to pay us a visit.”

After some back clapping and a one-armed guy hug, Joe asked Jason what he could help him find. “They’re predicting a snowstorm,” Joe supplied. “You got enough firewood up there?”

“Nope. How soon can I get a cord delivered?”

“For you, I’ll try to get it done this afternoon.”

Since Jason already had all the other winter essentials, he paid for the wood. “Anything new in town?” he asked casually. While he knew hoping Joe would tell him about a missing woman was a long shot, he figured it didn’t hurt to try.

“Not really.” Joe shrugged. “We’ve had a few more tourists this summer than usual, but after August, things settled back down to the same old, same old. But it’s good to see you again, Jason. How long are you here for this time?”

“I’m not sure. I’m thinking at least a month.” Truthfully, he’d been toying with the idea of longer, maybe even giving up war reporting for good. His soul ached with weariness from all the bloodshed and savagery.

“Through Christmas then.” Joe grinned. “You know me and the missus do our annual misfits’ dinner for Christmas. Everyone and anyone is invited to come eat with us. The only thing you have to do is bring something. Food, wine, beer, whatever.”

Jason nodded. “Thanks. I’ll let you know.” He barely remembered the last time he’d celebrated Christmas. Most times he’d either been traveling or stuck in some foreign hotel. The best holiday he’d had in recent memory had been when he’d found himself at a military base and had celebrated with the service members.

Once he’d left the hardware store, he strolled up and down Main Street, carefully checking all the storefront windows for missing-person flyers. He saw nothing save one for a lost cat.

Though ever mindful of the frightened woman waiting at home, he stopped in at Gertie’s, a coffee shop known for amazing pies. He was well aware of how much trouble he’d be in once word got out that he’d been to town if he didn’t stop and see everyone who knew him.

The little coffee house was packed. He took a seat at the bar, ordered a cup of coffee and Gertie’s famous peach pie. While he ate, he spoke with several other locals, all of who seemed happy to see him. No one mentioned a missing woman.

Extricating himself from the group of people wanting to discuss his last big story, he finally headed down to the sheriff’s office. Though Sheriff Ray Jeffords had been at the job since Jason had been a kid, he’d shown no inclination of retiring. Since there’d been virtually no crime in Cedar ever, he didn’t have much to do anyway.

“Jason Sheffield!” Springing from his chair, the sheriff rushed over and shook his hand. Once-gray hair had turned white, and his lined face bore a few more wrinkles, but the older man still had a firm grip and appeared healthy. If anything, he’d lost weight. His once-beefy frame seemed much trimmer.

They talked about the weather and the predicted snowstorm. Ray complained about the lack of tourists, and the out-of-towners who occasionally built vacation homes on newly cleared land. When Ray made no mention of a missing woman, Jason cleared his throat and asked.

“No, I haven’t heard anything about that.” The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

Though Jason briefly considered filling him in on the truth, he decided against it. Until he knew exactly what Lucy might be up against, he didn’t plan on letting anyone know about her.

He gave a casual shrug. “I’m working on a story,” he said. “I really can’t share the details.”

As usual, that answer worked. Everyone knew he was a reporter.

“Let me check really quickly,” Sheriff Jeffords said. He spent a moment or two typing on his computer, clearly searching some database. “Nope. We’ve got an Amber Alert, but unless the missing female is fourteen years old, I’ve got nothing.”

Jason hadn’t actually thought it would be that easy. He nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

“No problem.”

They shook hands again and Jason left. Instead of wandering the other side of Main Street, he decided to pick up a few more provisions and head back home. The food he’d bought earlier would be enough to last him a week or two, but he hadn’t been factoring in feeding another person. His experience with snowstorms in the mountains had taught him it was better to be prepared.

As he shopped the small grocery-general store, this time doing some hasty meal planning inside his head, he couldn’t help but wonder if Lucy would still be there when he returned home. Just in case, he purchased some generic clothing items, staying away from things like bras and shoes, where he’d need to know an actual size. Luckily, the bored teenager working the cash register didn’t know him and couldn’t have cared less about his purchases.

Satisfied, he found himself whistling as he drove home. He did enjoy a good mystery, especially one in as pretty of a package as Lucy.

Chapter 2

Watching as the man—Jason—drove off, she understood he’d left her with a choice. She could stay or she could go. Not really much of a decision, as far as she was concerned. She had no idea where she would go or what she would do once she got there. And how far would she get walking barefoot in the cold?

Add that to the ever-present feeling of some sort of danger lurking just around the corner, right beyond the range of her vision, and she’d take her chances with the big man and the small cabin. For now.

Lucy. Trying out the name, she decided it would work as well as anything else. Even though it didn’t feel right. But then, what did?

How had this happened to her? And why? She’d actually thought things like this only happened in books or movies. Really, how awful was it to not have any sense of self, or past or present? She not only felt adrift, with nothing to anchor her, but afraid of what she might learn when her memories returned. Had she done something awful, so terrible the act had caused her mind to melt down? Or had someone done this to her? Did amnesia spontaneously occur without some sort of trigger? She didn’t think so. Odd how she could know some weird, random fact, but not her own name.

Not giving in to self-pity would be a challenge. One of many, though. She didn’t know much about amnesia, and if she had access to the internet, she’d do some research. Damn, she missed her phone.

Her phone. Startled, she realized if she closed her eyes, she could picture it clearly. Rose gold, the latest iPhone. Plus-size.

Excited, she jumped to her feet. Her first true memory. If she could recollect something this small, it shouldn’t be too much longer before the rest came back to her.

Pacing the confines of the small cabin, she tried to clear her mind, hoping a blank slate might bring back something else. But apparently her sudden flash of insight wasn’t something she could conjure up at will. No matter how hard she tried.

Trying to focus on the positive—she’d actually remembered something—she refused to let herself feel discouraged. For now, she had to believe she was safe. At least she had a roof over her head, food to eat, and someone who seemed sympathetic and kind.

She knew enough to understand that her circumstances could have been so much worse. Though she hesitated to call herself lucky, in this particular area she had been.

The sound of tires on gravel alerted her to Jason’s return. At least, she hoped it was Jason. She hoped it wasn’t someone else coming to visit him.

Heart pounding, she ran to the front window, lifted up one wooden blind and peered out. Yep. She exhaled in relief as she watched him climb out of a black Jeep, wearing a cowboy hat and looking larger than ever and handsome as hell. She felt a twinge of attraction, which she instantly quelled. Ridiculous, since for all she knew she could be married. Eying him again, she realized he appeared to be carrying several shopping bags.

Opening the front door, she waited, feeling oddly breathless. “I’d come out and help you, but I don’t appear to have any shoes.”

“We need to fix that,” he said, smiling as he approached her. “I should have thought of that before I went to town. I did pick you up a couple more sweatshirts and sweatpants, though they might be too large since I don’t know your size.”

Grateful and touched, she thanked him. “That was kind.”

“Well, you can’t walk around wearing the same thing day after day. I bought a package of women’s underwear too, size small, and a package of socks. I hope that will work.”

“It will.” For no reason, her face heated.

“I’ll need to get your sizes for shoes and er, other things.”

Like bras. She got it. “Thank you.”

“I got some more food and stuff,” he continued. “Just in case that snowstorm they’re predicting turns out to be as nasty as they say.”

“I didn’t know about that.”

“It’s supposed to be a doozy.”

“Oh, I hope so. I love snow.”

“You do?” His gaze sharpened. “Sounds like you remembered something.”

“I did. It’s my second actual memory. Earlier, I remembered I have an iPhone. I could actually picture it.” She shrugged. “I’m disappointed that these seem insignificant, but hopeful more and more will come in time.”

“I think I remember reading that’s how it works. Bits and pieces, flashes of insight. It won’t be like you’ll wake up one day with everything restored to you.”

Which, of course, was what she impatiently wanted to happen. She decided to change the subject. “Do you get a lot of snow here?”

The glint in his eye told her he knew what she was doing. “Yeah, we get some brutal blizzards here because of our location,” he said, clearly deciding to go along with her topic change. “That’s why I bought all this.”

As he moved past her carrying his bags, he brushed up against her, making her catch her breath. Inhaling sharply, she breathed in his scent. Man and pine and outdoors. Damn. She swallowed hard, nearly overwhelmed with desire.

Not like her at all. Or was it? She had no idea. Maybe she was the kind of woman who made love with carefree abandon. Her stomach turned, making her doubt that.

She wore no wedding ring. Nor did her ring finger show the signs of having worn one. Eying Jason’s broad back, again she felt a punch of desire low in her body.

What did this sudden attraction mean? Was he her type, or were the strange feelings she’d started to experience due to the fact that they were in a sort of enforced isolation together?

Did it really matter? She had enough to worry about with her memory loss. Straightening her shoulders, she followed him into the kitchen, watching silently as he unpacked his purchases. Despite her stern internal talk to herself, she found herself aching to touch him.

“Here you go.” Completely unaware of her thoughts, he tossed her a generic plastic bag of women’s panties. She caught them easily. “And socks,” he said, this time sliding that package across the counter. “And here, the rest of this is yours also. This bag here has the sweatshirts and stuff like that.”

Still feeling overly warm, she took the bag and smiled.

“Thank you again,” she told him, dropping the socks and underwear into the bag with the other clothing. “Please save the receipt. Once I have access to money, assuming I have some, I’ll repay you.”

“No need.” Turning, he began unloading the next bag, putting things like cheese and lunch meat and eggs into the refrigerator. He left a box of quick-cooking rice and several cans of soup and various vegetables on the counter. “Those go in the cabinet right above, if you don’t mind putting them up.”

Of course she didn’t mind. Working so close, back-to-back, it was inevitable that they’d bump into each other. Each time she did, she bit back the urge to apologize and hoped he had no idea how badly she wanted to touch him.

Frustrated, she shook her head. How was it possible that she, a blank slate, could even feel this way about a man she barely knew?

“Are you okay?” he asked, rousing her from her reverie.

“I am.” Maybe if she said it firmly and often enough, she might actually believe it.

“Good.” He went back to emptying the last bag of provisions.

Once everything had been neatly stowed away, he smiled at her. She felt the impact of his smile all the way to her toes, which made her grit her teeth. “Don’t worry.” He reached to squeeze her shoulder, and then pulled back at the last moment. “We’ll get this all figured out. I did some checking in town, and there are no reports of a missing woman.”

“At all?” Focusing on this rather than the urge to lean in and accept his touch, she let her dismay show.

“Nothing. I stopped in and spoke with the sheriff. He checked.”

Feeling defeated, she moved away from him. Distance would help. “I’m disappointed. I really was hoping for a quick resolution to all this. As in, we’d find a report, and once I saw my face and knew my name, I’d remember everything, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I guess not.”

This made him laugh, a deep and masculine sound. “One thing I’ve learned over the years in my career as a journalist is to be patient. Don’t stress about it so much. Your situation is complicated—and intriguing. I’m thinking it won’t be a quick fix.”

Complicated and intriguing. Interesting. “I’m grateful you don’t seem to mind. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”

“No problem,” he replied. “I remember reading something about amnesia once. I think you can’t try to force things—you just have to let the memory return naturally. Even if it’s in bits and pieces.”

She nodded, though she once again had to struggle to hide her disappointment. She eyed him, trying to be dispassionate but failing miserably. “Still, you seem familiar to me somehow. Are you sure we didn’t know each other, before?”

“I’m positive.” He chuckled. “Quite honestly, I’d never have forgotten meeting you.”

This made her smile.

“You probably saw me on the news, doing one of my reports from the Middle East. That’s why I seem familiar.”

“Maybe.” Once again, she took to prowling around the cabin, more as a way to distract herself from the strength of her need to touch him. “This is very nice,” she mused, running her hand over the granite kitchen countertops, enjoying the cool smoothness. “The colors are beautiful. I’m guessing either it came like this or you have mad decorating skills. I like it.”

“Thanks. I did some updates after I bought the place.”

Movement outside caught her eye. A small herd of deer crossed the backyard. Immediately, she went to the window and pressed her nose against the glass, watching them, enthralled.

“Deer or bear?” he asked.

“Deer.” The thought of encountering a bear made her shiver. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Do you get a lot of bears here?”

“We have all kinds of wildlife, but yes. As long as you’re careful, they won’t bother you.”

She wanted to ask what constituted careful, but since she figured she wouldn’t be out roaming the woods or the roads alone, she’d be fine.

Finally, the deer disappeared into the trees. Slowly, she turned around, to find Jason watching her.

Taking a deep breath, she met his gaze. “I know you checked with the sheriff and in town. But what if I’m not local? Not only do I have this ever-present sense of dread, but I almost feel as if there’s something important I’m supposed to be doing.”

“That’s a possibility. You say you’re worried. Any idea about what?”

“No. I still can’t access enough memory to figure it out. It’s like when you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye, but then you turn and you weren’t quick enough to see it.” She sighed. “It’s honestly frustrating as hell.” Her eyes widened at her choice of words. Another clue, maybe.

“I can only imagine. I’ll tell you what. I’ll scour the internet tonight, and you can look over my shoulder. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Thank you.” She wanted to hug him. She didn’t.

“You’re welcome. But for now, if my satellite is still working, let’s catch the news,” he suggested. “I’m kind of a news junkie.”

“Before we search the internet?” She struggled to hide her disappointment.

“Yes.” He reached for her, stopped, and cocked his head. “Is it okay if I touch you now? I know you were frightened before, but I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Watching him, she slowly nodded.

“Okay.” He put his hand under her chin, raising her face so that she looked at him. “But don’t worry. We’ll look after, OK? I don’t have a DVR here, so if I miss it, it’s gone. Because I’m a journalist, I like to try and keep on top of what’s going on in the world.”

“That makes sense.” Though she didn’t want to jerk herself away from him, if he kept on touching her, she just knew she would kiss him. Odd, how she could go from one extreme to the other.

Luckily, he dropped his hand. Aching, she told herself to be glad.

“What kind of journalist are you, exactly?” Changing the subject yet again. “I know you said you’re on the news. What news? I’m assuming one of the national ones, right?”

“You assume correctly. I work as an overseas correspondent in the Middle East.”

“I think you mentioned something about that.”

“Yeah. I probably did.” He busied himself with the remote. “I report mostly from war zones.”

War zones. She got a quick flash of something—danger and noise, blood and despair. It came and went too quickly for her to be able to analyze it.

The TV came on, a commercial about some local plumber.

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It can be.” He grinned, appearing triumphant. “I’m relieved that the television came on instantly, with a clear picture. That’s not always the case. When it rains or snows, the satellite can’t get a signal. That’s when I read.”

She looked around for books. He caught her looking and shook his head. “No room. I have an e-reader.”

While she pondered that, the evening news began. They led off with a story about a coordinated suicide bombing attack in Kabul. Over seventy-five Afghans were dead, with many more wounded.

Jason swore. “That’s exactly where I was reporting, a little over a week ago.” He swore, again. “I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or envious that I wasn’t right there in the thick of the action.”