Who could she have been meeting in that park? Had they been following her or would they have tried to hurt any woman on her own, as she must have been? Would they try again? When? Why?
Yet even with the little she knew, she instinctively felt that she wouldn’t have gone into a park alone at night. That just wasn’t safe. She wrapped her arms tightly around her body.
The door opened.
“Why was I alone in that park, Jonathan?” she blurted out, gulping back tears. “Why am I alone now? No one but Margaret and Randall visit me. No one has called or sent flowers. Not even a card.” She looked at him and saw a strange expression, one that she couldn’t interpret, on his face. “Why don’t I have any friends, Jonathan? Am I such a terrible person? Is that why someone wanted to kill me?”
“Amanda.” Her name was a groan on his lips.
He crossed the room and his arms closed around her. Strong, comforting arms that she couldn’t resist. She buried her face against his chest and let her tears soak into his soft shirt, clinging to the only person she wanted or needed in this frightening new world. The only one who made her feel safe.
“Amanda, listen to me.” He held her shoulders in his firm hands. “You are not alone. I’m here.”
He was so close she could see a shadow of herself reflected in his eyes. Yet a sense of urgency made her press even closer against him.
“Amanda,” his warm breath brushed her lips.
She could taste him. She felt him shudder.
Suddenly light and noise exploded into the room. Without looking at her, he stood and moved away from the bed. Goose bumps ran over her skin where his hands had been.
“Here’s an orderly now. I came back to tell you Dr. Johnson has ordered that you be moved up to Dr. Newman’s floor.”
“That means you’re getting better.” The orderly winked at her as he helped her into a wheelchair.
The unsettled sensation in her stomach had nothing to do with the elevator ride. The orderly pushed her out into another long corridor, this one carpeted, with artwork on the walls. It was much quieter, almost as if she had entered a hotel. Even her room looked different, not like a hospital at all. There was a regular bed with a wooden headboard and a matching bedside table. A lamp filled a corner of the room with a soft glow. There were actually drapes at the window. This felt more like a home.
She asked to sit in the large wing chair. She wanted Jonathan to stay so she could talk to him, but he wouldn’t look at her. Dr. Newman knocked before he entered. He had his glasses perched on his forehead. For some reason, she found that amusing.
“Welcome to the rehab floor, Amanda.” He patted his pocket, looking for his glasses, then realized where they were. “Tomorrow we will be starting various forms of memory tests. Do you have any questions about that?”
“Yes.” The questions pounding in her head needed to be answered. She stared up at Jonathan, wanting him to understand her fear and need.
“Won’t the person who did this want to stop me from remembering who he is?”
THE EMOTION GLITTERING in Amanda’s eyes froze him, but Pat Newman leaned forward eagerly. He pounced, “Do you remember anything about the person who tried to hurt you?”
Jonathan watched her grow rigid, sweat forming on her brow, her hands clenching as she fought to remember. Then she closed her eyes and sighed.
“I can’t even remember how old I am. That detective said I’d been gone six weeks before that night, but I’ve lost a whole lifetime….” She lifted one hand in a pathetic gesture that tore at Jonathan’s heart. “Who hates me so much he would do this? Does someone want to kill me? Help me find out who I am. Give me back my life. Please.” She shut her eyes as tears slid down her cheeks.
“We will, Amanda. I promise.” Jonathan folded his fingers over her hand in a soothing grip. “I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
Pat Newman cleared his throat and moved away from the bed diplomatically. Jonathan suddenly realized he’d gone far beyond the doctor-patient relationship he was trying so hard to maintain and released her hand. “You’ve had enough for now. Try to rest.”
She smiled up at him with a slight curve of her mouth and winced as her skin pulled. He fought to maintain his objectivity, reluctantly following the other doctor into the corridor.
“Is something going on that I should know about, Jonathan?”
Even as he shook his head in denial Jonathan recalled the sensory tug he felt whenever he was near her. Her memories might be gone, but his were strong, heightened by her unexpected sweetness and vulnerability. He couldn’t keep fooling himself, but he’d be damned if he was going to let Pat Newman inside his head.
Newman hesitated, studying him, then capitulated. “Good.” Lowering his glasses to the end of his nose, he frowned. “She needs you to be completely objective. Tomorrow we start the real tests.”
In the morning, Amanda insisted she felt strong enough to walk to the first battery of tests. Jonathan had cleared his schedule, driving Bonnie to distraction, so he could observe. He sat near the door so Amanda wouldn’t be distracted. After one nervous glance at him, she turned to concentrate on Dr. Newman’s questions. The determined set of her mouth touched something deep inside him; she was obviously frightened but persevered anyway.
The first test dealt with general knowledge. Pat showed her pictures of actors, politicians and sports figures from different time periods.
“Can you name these people for me, Amanda?” he asked.
A spark came to life in her eyes. “That man with the powdered wig is George Washington.” Her smile blazed like a million-watt bulb. She didn’t have to ask if she was right; she knew it. Jonathan felt as if he’d taken a shot of whiskey on an empty stomach.
He couldn’t know for certain, but it seemed she did best with the historical group. The familiar faces of presidents since Jimmy Carter, and celebrities like Michael Jordan or Harrison Ford, were out of her reach. Her performance was exactly the same for the Famous Names Test.
He was amazed by how well she concentrated. He was getting tired just watching her efforts, but each time Pat asked if she’d like to call it a day, she insisted on continuing. The next tests, consisting of verbal and nonverbal priming tasks, were more difficult. She showed above average learning ability under trying conditions, further indicating that she hadn’t suffered any brain damage.
By now, she’d been at it for several hours. Because he was watching so closely, Jonathan saw a faint trembling begin in her arms and legs and signaled Dr. Newman, who stood immediately, as if this were the natural place to stop.
“Thank you, Amanda. You did very well today.”
“Did I?”
The strain around her eyes showed how hard she’d been trying.
“Yes!” Jonathan agreed. “Now it’s time for a nap. I’ll take you back to your room.”
Her steps were unsteady, but she didn’t seem to realize she was walking at a snail’s pace. He put his arm around her, only to steady her. Any doctor would have done the same thing, he told himself.
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I know the date the nation was born, but I don’t know my own birthday.”
This was dangerous territory. He should talk to Pat before he gave her any information,