The woman had beautiful blue eyes set in a slant above cheekbones dusted a rosy color, giving her a kind of exotic air. She seemed to glow in the soft light. Maybe it was the blond hair and all the gold jewelry she wore, wide hoops on her ears and a matching choker. Her yellow silk dress molded a well-cared-for body. There was a sense of wary concern in her eyes. Amanda didn’t want to see into those eyes, so she shifted her gaze to the man.
He was shorter and broader than Jonathan. And older, with thick gray hair and deep smile lines around his brown eyes. He didn’t look frightening at all, yet a new trembling started deep inside her.
She must know this man and woman in an intimate way if they were her family. She stared at them, trying to find something to stir the darkness in her mind, but there was nothing to help her.
She searched for something to say to them. Like a pinpoint of light, a memory broke through. She grasped it before it fled like all the others.
“Did Mother Chambers go back to The Lodge?”
“Amanda!” The man gasped as the woman rounded on Jonathan.
“You lied to us!” The fury her aunt turned on Jonathan stabbed into her. Hot, stinging tears burned her cheeks.
“My God, she does know us!” Her uncle lunged toward her.
She tried to put her hands up to stop him, shaking her head in confusion, the pain throbbing through her face adding to this waking nightmare.
“Please don’t yell at Jonathan. I…I don’t remember you. I heard you talking…before when…when I was asleep.”
Her uncle seemed to turn to stone at her words. “Oh, my God, we are frightening you. Margaret, stop. Amanda is crying.” He backed away slowly. “You really don’t know me? Or your aunt Margaret?”
Margaret crumpled into the chair beside the bed. Randall went to her side and put his arms around her to support her.
She didn’t want to hurt these people, but they made her nervous and afraid.
“Amanda needs to rest now.” Jonathan turned to protect her.
“No! Darling, I’m so sorry.” Her aunt broke away from her husband and sank down beside her on the bed. She smelled like flowers, and the hand that patted Amanda’s arm was soft, the nails long and painted red. “I apologize to Jonathan. I’ve been so worried about you. Now that you’re awake, we have some work to do.”
Smiling, Margaret ran her soft fingers up and down Amanda’s hand. “I’ll bring your own things to you. Then-you’ll start remembering just like that!” She snapped her fingers and laughed.
After a moment Amanda thought of what to say. “That would be nice.” Her answer must have been satisfactory, because Margaret nodded.
“I’ll buy you a beautiful new bed jacket. You will like that, I know, my sweet girl.” Randall leaned over, so close she could see every line in his tanned face. His hand grasped hers so tightly she almost cried out in pain.
“I think Amanda’s had enough excitement for today.”
She couldn’t help but feel glad that Jonathan’s words caused her aunt and uncle to move away from her bed. She wanted them to leave, because fatigue pulled at every muscle in her body. Yet, in another way, she wanted them to stay, to give her answers to the myriad questions brewing in her mind.
One pounded like a hammer behind her eyes. “Jonathan told me my name and who you are.” One last time she swept through the dark caves and hollows in her brain. “But where are my parents? Do I have brothers and sisters?”
Her aunt glanced at Jonathan, and Amanda saw him nod. Bending forward, Margaret again patted Amanda’s hand.
“No, you were an only child. Your mother was my older sister. She and your father, Bradley Braithwaite, drowned in a yachting accident in the Caribbean when you were twelve. That was seventeen years ago. Since then, you’ve lived with us and Randall’s mother. We’re your only family. Mother Chambers, Randall and I.”
“We love you very much, Amanda.” Randall’s voice sounded thick with emotion.
She didn’t know what to say, what to feel. She stared up at Jonathan, and he nodded, as if he understood her confusion. “Amanda’s tired. You have to go now.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, darling.” Aunt Margaret waved to her from the doorway. “And if Mother Chambers is feeling better, I know she’ll want to come, too.”
“She refused to go home until we could tell her you were awake.” Randall blew her a kiss. “We will be back soon.”
“I’ll be right there,” Jonathan called as they slipped through the door. He turned to her. “Did seeing them spark anything?”
His chiseled face looked so stern and his eyes so intent she wanted to say or do something to lessen his distress. “They seem to be…nice people. But I don’t remember them. I don’t remember anything except you and the voices while I slept.”
He nodded. “Give it time. This has been a lot for one day. I know you must be tired. Would you like me to stay with you?”
Of course she wanted him to stay! Without him she was alone in her dark, empty mind. But he was a doctor and must have other patients to look after. Being able to reason that through gave her the courage to move her head the tiniest bit on the pillow. “No.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He hesitated slightly at the door, and she held her breath, hoping he might stay anyway.
The door closed behind him, shutting out the strangers and the voices and the things she couldn’t understand. She was alone.
Tomorrow loomed like a promise and a threat. She would find the pieces of her life and fit them together.
DEAD. She should be dead and buried by now. Instead she was thriving under Jonathan Taylor’s care. He went in and out of her room at all hours of the day, never keeping to a schedule, never giving an opportunity to finish the job.
It had be taken care of, and soon. Before her memory returned
SOMETIME DURING the night she struggled awake to find a dark shadow standing over her.
“What are you doing?”
Someone, gowned and masked, turned away from her IV bag. She couldn’t make out which nurse was on duty, because it was so dark in the room. Always before the lights had only been dimmed so they didn’t shine on her bed.
“I’m just checking,” a muffled voice answered her. “Go back to sleep.”
The next time she woke, the night nurse was standing just inside her door. “Good. You’re awake.”
“Is it morning already?” Her head felt fuzzy and it was difficult to focus.
“Two-thirty. I’m going to take the IV needles out and you’ll get real food in the morning.”
“But you were already here.”
“No, dear. You were dreaming.”
She felt so much better with the needles gone. Real time must have nothing to do with hospital procedure, she decided as she fell back to sleep, curling her arms protectively around her body.
Real food, at least liquids, arrived with a clatter of metal trays. The orange juice tasted like heaven, even though it was awkward to drink. Actually, she hadn’t realized until this moment that she hadn’t been eating or drinking. She raised her hand to tentatively explore