The Cowboy And The Countess. Darlene Scalera

a year, you’re going to want triple the megabytes on this baby,” he was telling Ronnie as he examined the back of her computer’s central unit. “What speed modem do you have?”

      A beautiful brunette, perched on the edge of one of the red velour chairs, jumped up.

      “Kent!”

      Anna recognized the woman coming toward them as Kent’s fiancé. The woman scanned Kent’s outfit. She hesitated. Her smile dissolved.

      Leon looked up. “Buddy!” He came toward Kent, arms outstretched. “Out stalking the streets, huh? I don’t blame you…not after I heard it was chipped beef on toast day at the hospital.”

      Leon embraced him in a back-patting hug. Kent stood, body stiff. He looked from Leon to Hilary.

      “What’re you doing here?” he asked. “I explained everything to you yesterday. I’m not the man you think I am.”

      Leon glanced at Anna.

      “I called them,” she said.

      Kent looked at her. “Why?”

      “They’re very worried about you.”

      He glanced at Leon and Hilary again, then back at Anna.

      “They’re your friends. You just don’t remember them.”

      Kent shook his head. “No, these people don’t know me. Not like you do, Anna.”

      “You remember them with you yesterday in the hospital, don’t you?”

      Kent looked for a long moment at Leon and Hilary. He nodded.

      “Do you remember the doctor talking about amnesia?” Leon asked.

      Kent nodded, still looking at Leon and Hilary.

      “Do you remember him saying the blow to your head caused a temporary memory loss?” Hilary asked.

      Again he nodded.

      “But there’s no reason you won’t fully recover in a few weeks,” Anna said too brightly. “You’ll be your ol’ self again in no time…and everything won’t seem so confusing.”

      Kent shifted his gaze to her. “I’m not confused, Anna.”

      “You left the hospital before the doctors could perform necessary tests,” Leon pointed out. “They need to take X rays to determine your condition.”

      “My condition?”

      “But all those tests can be done on an outpatient basis, darling,” Hilary added. “However, you do need rest to recover fully. That the doctor was very adamant about. So we’ve come to take you home.” She took a tentative step toward him.

      “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

      “Probably not,” Anna said. The cheerleader smile had become frozen on her face. “But this way, you’ll be sure.”

      He looked down at her. “You’re worried, too?”

      She nodded. Her throat had grown too tight to speak.

      “You think I should go with these people?”

      She swallowed hard. “You don’t remember them now, but you will. They’re your friends.”

      Kent looked about the room. “I’ll go,” he said. “Only because this seems a way to resolve this mix-up once and for all.”

      “Good choice,” Leon said.

      But Kent was looking at Anna. “I’ll be back for you.” He bent down swiftly and kissed her hard on the lips. His mouth slid to her cheek. “I’ll be back,” he whispered against the yield of flesh, the opening of pores.

      He pulled away, turned to the two others. “Let’s go.”

      They walked to the door. He turned only once. He looked at her.

      Sound welled within her, climbed up her throat. Her mouth opened, her lips drew back. The tendons in her throat contracted. Yet no sound came.

      Then he was gone.

      Her mouth closed. Her lips met, their tight line echoed in her flat stare, the erect, still way she stood.

      The first time, she hadn’t been given the chance to say goodbye. The second time, she’d been too much the coward.

      Chapter Four

      The Lexus came to another upward concrete curve. Centrifugal force pulled K.C. toward the latched door. The seat belt pushed against his chest. Hilary sat strapped beside him. She gave him a wide smile, her teeth white pearls echoed in the beads wrapped around her throat.

      K.C. turned his head and saw the shiny skeleton of L.A. below. Soaring bends of concrete arched over one another, while others seeped ground-level—supine planes of highway meeting, then moving on, smooth, glossy with traffic.

      The car crested the incline. Leon braked hard, throwing K.C. forward. Before them was a white, sterile structure, frozen even in the strong L.A. shimmer.

      K.C. studied the building. The words cold, clinical came to his mind. Where had they brought him? Why? He had agreed to undergo the recommended tests, but it was his understanding they were to be done at the UCLA Medical Center. The fortress before him, with its blank walls and flat top, had more the look of a prison.

      He glanced at Hilary, seeing her white smile. He looked front, seeing the flushed ripple of skin rimming the back of Leon’s collar.

      As if feeling eyes upon him, Leon twisted around and grinned at K.C. from over the seat’s leather curve. “Here we are.”

      K.C. looked to the low, white rise before them, then back at his escorts. Nothing looked familiar.

      Hilary laid a cool palm on his forearm. “Shall we go inside, darling?”

      He stepped out of the car into the thinned air and walked with Hilary and Leon to the white box of a building, its corners sharpened by the sun’s albino sheen.

      Inside was as unrelieved as the outside. Great walls of unbroken white, cool, uncovered floors of pale maple, broad, boxy furniture. No baseboards, no moldings, no lamps, no drapes. Everything had been stripped to its barest possibilities.