“We actually have a furniture store. With some factory-manufactured things and some really nice hand-crafted pieces that folks around town make,” she informed him.
She knew this was a prime opening, but it took a moment of screwing up her courage to take advantage of it. “I’d be happy to go with you, show you where it is, give you my opinion—for what it’s worth.”
“I might just take you up on that. I could definitely use a woman’s advice when it comes to decorating.”
Not many men in Black Arrow thought of her as a woman. It pleased Willow to no end that Tyler did.
But she tried to contain her pleasure. She didn’t want to appear too eager.
“So where are you from?” she asked, changing the subject before she got carried away. And also because when she’d found out she was pregnant she’d realized she’d actually learned next to nothing about him that night in Tulsa, and thought it was time she did.
“I was born and raised in Wyoming,” he answered.
“Is that where your family is?”
“My folks died in a flood up there a few years back. That left only me and my brother, Brick. Brick is still riding the rodeo circuit, and since I bought this place we gave up the apartment we shared in Cheyenne. When he needs a place to stay off the road he’ll come here.”
“Your brother wasn’t ready to retire with you?” Willow asked.
“No. Neither was I, for that matter,” he added with that same regret he’d had in his voice the day before, when they’d talked about this.
“Then why did you?” Willow persisted, hoping he didn’t think she was prying. Even though she was.
Tyler didn’t answer right away. He took a drink of his iced tea and stared into the glass.
And the longer he hesitated, the more she began to worry that he did think she was prying, and didn’t like it.
But then he set his glass on the floor beside the sofa and raised his amazing green eyes to her. “You said you were at Friday’s rodeo in Tulsa. Well, that was my last good ride. On Saturday I got thrown. I landed on my head and ended up with a concussion that put me in a coma for fifteen days. Nobody was too sure I was going to come out of it or, if I did, whether I’d be okay. When I finally did regain consciousness the doctors said no more bronc bustin’. So that was it for me.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow said, because she could see what a blow that news had been to him. But for herself, she felt a strange sense of relief. She’d seen how dangerous what he did was, and the thought of her baby’s father doing it had apparently bothered her more than she’d realized.
“Luckily, I’d been socking away prize and endorsement money for a lot of years,” Tyler continued. “So I bought this place and came here to settle down.”
“How did you end up choosing Black Arrow for that?” she asked, since when she’d told him that fateful June night that this was where she lived, he’d never heard of it before.
Tyler laughed again and inclined his head in a way that made Willow think he was confused by the choice himself.
Then he confirmed that by saying, “I don’t know for sure how I chose Black Arrow. Here’s the thing, the concussion blanked out some of my memory. It left me with some holes. When it came time to pick a place to settle down, Black Arrow popped into my head. I’m pretty sure it’s connected to some other things I’ve forgotten, things I’m trying to remember, but one way or another, something about it just seemed right. Right enough so that I contacted a Realtor here and bought this place sight unseen.”
“You lost your memory?” Willow asked, seizing on that part of what he’d said because it was so vital to her.
“Not all of it. Mostly I’m blank about things that happened in the weeks just before the accident.”
“People, too?”
“Places I’d been, rodeos I’d ridden in, prizes I’d won, a commercial for cowboy hats that I did, and yes, people, too. Friends my brother tells me we spent time with I have no memory of having seen, people I’d just met, people I wish I hadn’t forgotten.”
Willow didn’t know exactly what that last part meant. “How could you wish you hadn’t forgotten someone if you’ve forgotten them?”
“It’s kind of like the way it was with Black Arrow. Almost like an itch I can’t reach. Something tells me things were important, but I don’t know why or what or who, and I just keep hoping something will happen to bring it all back. Or at least some of it.”
It was slowly sinking in that it wasn’t only her and their night together that he didn’t recall. That it wasn’t a matter of her being unmemorable or of him having so many one-night stands that they didn’t mean anything to him. She and their night together were a part of a bigger picture. A part of many things that he’d lost.
“So you actually have a medical condition?” she asked, just to have it confirmed.
“A part of the memory portion of my brain was damaged from the concussion and induced a limited amnesia, yes. I know it sounds incredible, but that’s what happened.”
I could tell him, Willow thought. Right now. I could tell him he’s already met me. On that Friday night before his accident. That we were together all night and that was where he heard about Black Arrow.
But would that bring it all back to him? she wondered. Or would it only seem like a story to him? Maybe not even a believable one, since she hadn’t mentioned it before now.
She had no way of knowing.
But what she might have was an opportunity, she thought suddenly. The opportunity to let him get to know her. The real her—Willow. Not the dressed-up, drinking, partying Wyla who had spent the night with him before she even knew him.
And if she used that opportunity to let him get to know the real her, maybe he would like her for who she was.
The idea appealed to her.
It was as if she could erase—at least temporarily—the one thing she’d done that she was most ashamed of. The one thing that gave the absolutely wrong impression of her and of the person she truly was.
It was almost like having a clean slate. For a little while, anyway. And at this point, she thought, she should take what she could get.
So she didn’t tell him that she was one of the people he’d forgotten. That they’d spent the night together in Tulsa. She held her tongue and allowed herself to take advantage of an opportunity that maybe fate had offered her. Instead of telling him anything, she said, “Are the headaches from the concussion?”
“Yeah. The doctors say they’ll probably go away eventually, and they are getting better. But still, when one hits, I’m in a world of hurt.”
“I should go then, and let you rest. You’re probably wiped out after you’ve had one.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her again.
But Willow was so relieved, so thrilled that she hadn’t been just one of many unnoteworthy one-night stands that she almost felt giddy, and she was afraid it might show if she didn’t get out of there.
So she set her glass on the floor, too, and stood. “No, really, I should be going.” Then she screwed up her courage for the second time and said, “But if you want, we could do some furniture shopping tomorrow evening. After I close up the store.”
He stood again, too, pausing to smile down at her as if he liked not only the suggestion, but what he saw, as well. And it did fluttery, feminine things to her insides.
“You’d do that for me?”