So far, no luck.
The streets leading away from the hospital had markers of familiarity, but her mind whirred. Her memory of the main highway was five years out of date.
Five years.
Such a significant amount of time. She tried to conjure up a holiday, an image of her wedding day. Tried to imagine where she might have tied the knot. Wondered who her best friend was.
But no memories pounded against her mind’s eye. Just an ultrasound image and a cyclone of questions.
Questions that hammered harder at her chest as they pulled up to their house. Her home. The home she shared with Chuck, heir to an oil empire and sexy as hell in a Stetson. Chuck had told her that her mother would be going straight from the airport to their house. There had been some delays with her flight.
And as they turned the corner, Shana took in the mammoth structure, eyes moving past the snow-covered arbor to the chimney puffing gray smoke rings against the iced sky. So many rooms, so many memories that refused to materialize. Had they picked this place out together? Had she determined which trees should be placed where?
The automatic security gate slid back to reveal a clear view of the massive two-story house with a French country charm. More of that wary hope filled her as she studied the home and grounds. Would she recognize any of it? Whitewashed brick and porches. So many porches on every floor, enclosed and open, as if there was enough space to accommodate any season.
Beautiful, but unfamiliar.
She’d grown up with security, in a cute ranch-style home made of brick. Her mother had worked at the local air force base as a nurse. Her father had always claimed he was short of money. She’d heard her parents fight about it. Sometimes the words were distinguishable, most of the time not. But in the words that had trickled through, her mom had accused him of having a drinking problem. Another time she’d questioned him about a gambling addiction, even other women. The possibility of him supporting a whole second family had never come up, so far as Shana had known.
Who would suspect that?
God, trust was tough, but right now she wasn’t in a position to walk away. She didn’t even know who she was.
And if this pregnancy lasted, she wanted to give her child a chance at a loving home and family.
She shook off the past. She hated dwelling on such negative notions and letting her father have real estate in her brain. He didn’t deserve so much as a passing thought. Instead, she focused on the house where, according to Chuck, she’d lived for nearly four years.
The property seemed to be about five acres. In addition to the mansion, the grounds had a small barn and a five-car garage. High-end cars lined the driveway, snow billowing down on them. The counselor had encouraged her to have a controlled meeting of the family as early as Shana could agree to it. Shana had replied that the tension of wondering was worse.
So Chuck’s family was here, waiting for her arrival.
If only the curtain would rise, revealing her past. This was a magnificent place set against the mountain range. Would she feel more at peace when she saw the decor? Would she recognize her influence in the home?
Modern French provincial was her style. A promising omen.
“Did we decorate together, or did you leave it all to me?”
“We chose artwork together, but the rest is all you.” His face was angular in the glow from the dash. With the sun setting early, the headlights cast stripes ahead as he neared their home, passing a frozen pond.
“Were you okay with that?”
“Completely. We blended both of our tastes where it mattered to me. For example, I had some antlers from a hunting trip with my father that I wanted to keep, and you honored that wish in a thoughtful way.”
“How so?”
He parked under a portico, the vehicle still running, heat pumping. “You incorporated them into a massive chandelier with candles over our dining room table. It’s a great tribute to my dad.”
The nostalgia in his voice drew her closer.
“I wish I could remember having met him.” Or remember any of the past five years with Chuck. She swallowed, frustrated at the void. The not knowing.
Chuck stroked her hair back from her face. “Losing him was hard on all of us. For you, too.”
Her hand gravitated to his jaw and she let herself test the bristly feel of him under the guise of offering comfort. “You’re named for him.”
“You remember?” He looked up sharply, those attentive eyes causing her cheeks to heat.
“Not the way you mean. It’s more of a guess that feels right.” She couldn’t miss the wariness in his eyes, something that hinted he would rather she didn’t remember. A shiver rippled through her and she pulled her hand away. “Although I don’t have a clue who each of those cars belongs to.”
He pointed to the first car. “That’s my mother’s. She wanted to see you in the hospital, but I didn’t want you overwhelmed with new faces.”
Was that true? Or did his family not like her and that’s why only his younger sister had been around?
Either way, he’d been right to keep them away from the hospital, because with Shana’s memory of the past five years still a no-show, she was starting to panic over going into her house emotionally blind to re-meet so many people who already knew her.
Maybe having them come over hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
But now it was too late to go back.
As the thick door swung open and she stepped through, a sheer mass of humanity greeted her. When Chuck said he had a big family, she hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant.
Her eyes flicked as she tried to take in all these new—and yet not new—people and this house at the same time. A tall blonde woman with a baby on her hip leaned against the iron railing of the staircase, her smile warm and welcoming. A cluster of people stood on the white-and-brown-dappled fur rug, crowding around the plush chairs.
Chuck pronounced their names as they moved, but Shana’s head throbbed at all the information. She tried to imagine picking out the furniture with the man who held her steady as she pushed through a barrage of people.
People who seemed genuinely concerned for her. People who felt like strangers.
They moved further into the house, her hand reaching out to touch the wall as they turned from the entry hall into the dining room. Her eyes scanned the long wooden table flanked by eight large chairs. It held a table setting for two.
A snapshot of daily life.
Bouquets of fresh flowers and tall candles ran down the table’s spine. A familiar touch—a tradition from her mother. She’d brought that here, to her life as a married woman.
A small comfort. But a comfort she embraced, the kind of nod from the universe that something made sense. It gave her the strength to meet even more people.
It helped to divide them into two family trees rather than take them in as one mass of blended family. Chuck’s mother, Jeannie, was head of the Mikkelson clan with two sons and two daughters. Jack Steele—Jeannie’s new husband—had five adult children, three sons and two daughters. His oldest son was married to Chuck’s oldest sister, and the couple had a baby girl. The oldest Steele daughter was married to a scientist and they had twin baby girls.
Shana’s heart tugged at the sight of those little ones, reminding her of the child she’d only just learned she carried but that she already loved. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled hearing that Jack had lost his wife and another daughter in a plane crash over fifteen years ago. It had probably been big news across the state at the time, given the prominence of