Julia curled her arms around Ryder’s waist. Maybe if Jeremy stood here on the Stokers’ patio, holding her in his arms, she’d remember. The strong connection she felt with Ryder bubbled up from somewhere in her subconscious. Dr. Jim always believed if she met someone from her past, memories would start to return.
The memories still remained blank, but the feeling she had for Ryder surged through her, real and strong. She turned her head and pressed her lips against the warm skin of his throat, moving her hips against his. His breath hissed between his teeth, and she jumped back, disentangling herself from his embrace and the confusing feelings swirling in her head.
“I—I’m sorry.” She covered her face with her hands to hide the hot flash that claimed her cheeks.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. This must be…” He placed his hand on her back and steered her back to her chair. “Sit.”
She dropped into the chair, and Ryder shoved her glass of lemonade in front of her. She gulped the cool liquid and then pressed the glass against her hot face. Ryder must think she’d lost her mind along with her memory, coming onto him right after learning about her dead husband…ex-husband.
“How did Jeremy die and when?” She had to start piecing together the string of events in her past life that led to her accident in a stolen car with a bag of cash.
“You were living in Paris when Jeremy finished his last assignment.” He cocked his head. “Do you know that you speak French like a native?”
“Yeah, I discovered that just last week.”
Shaking his head, he said, “Weird.”
“You don’t know the half of weird. Go on.”
“You worked as a tour guide at the Louvre. Anyway, Jeremy returned from the field, and you two fought and decided to separate.”
“After one fight?” Her marriage to Jeremy couldn’t have been that strong.
“One of many fights.” Ryder shrugged his broad shoulders. “Jeremy left his job and went out to Tucson. When I found out about Jeremy’s…death, I called you in Paris. That’s when I learned you went to the States, but I don’t know why you followed him.”
“I was with him when he died?” She swallowed the uneasy lump in her throat.
“I don’t know, Julia. I saw you last in Paris before I left for my next assignment.” He shifted his gaze from hers and stared across the Stokers’ back yard that stretched into a paddock for their horses. “When I heard about Jeremy I called you, but you were gone. When I got back to Paris, I looked for you again, but you’d disappeared. I didn’t see you again until today.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Ryder.” Wings of anxiety fluttered in her belly. Something didn’t add up about Ryder’s story. He said Jeremy was in Afghanistan, in the military, but he talked of assignments instead of deployment. And what American soldier lived in Paris? The McClintocks never mentioned their son being in the armed services. He worked for a government agency, some said the CIA.
“How did Jeremy die?”
“Julia, we don’t have to go into this right now. You must be on overload. There’s plenty of time to get into this stuff, and I’ll be around for a while.”
“Before you get your next assignment?” She crossed her arms, squelching all the squishy feelings she had about this man. She needed some answers. “What agency do you work for?”
Leaning back in his chair, he stretched his long legs in front of him. His worn cowboy boots looked right at home on the dusty roads that led from Silverhill to the ranches that surrounded it. Of course he fit in because his family owned one of the biggest ranches, but he was also at home in Paris, Afghanistan, and wherever else he’d been hiding out these past three and a half years.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Or you’d have to kill me?” Her own attempt at humor caused a chill to ripple down her spine. Hunching her shoulders, she gripped her upper arms. “I must’ve known at some point because I was married to one of your coworkers.”
“You knew a little, but it’s best for those memories to stay buried.”
“Damn you.” She banged her fist on the table, and the ice in the glasses tinkled and shook. “You’re not the gatekeeper of my memories. Did Jeremy’s death have anything to do with this top secret agency? Is it the reason I was fleeing in a stolen car with gobs of cash?”
“I don’t know.”
“Liar.”
A quick grin broke across his face. “Still as hot-tempered as ever.”
She was? Nobody in Silverhill had ever accused her of having a hot temper. They tiptoed around sweet, gentle Julia and spoke in hushed voices so as not to startle her. She hated it.
Ryder sat forward and traced a finger along the knuckles of her clenched fist. “You never told me how you knew your name was Julia.”
A blatant attempt to change the subject, but his warm touch somehow made that okay. Not wanting to break away from him, Julia plucked her necklace from beneath her T-shirt with her other hand. Hooking her thumb behind the gold script of her name, she pulled it forward.
Ryder took it from her and ran the tip of his finger along the letters. Her heart ached at the gentle way he caressed her name. His eyes crinkled and a smile tugged at his lips.
“Do you recognize it?” She held her breath.
“Yeah, you wore it all the time.”
His eyes met hers, and she shivered at the longing mirrored in their depths. She shared a past with this man. His lips, inches from hers, invited her to explore further. As much as she wanted to, she had to learn more about herself, about her dead husband, Shelby’s father.
The patio door slid open, and Shelby barreled across the bricks and threw herself into Julia’s lap. “I want to go home. Uncle Clem said I could have a kitty.”
“Okay, we can go home now, but we have to wait until the kitties are ready to leave their mama.” Julia glanced at Ryder, who was smiling down at Shelby.
Shelby turned her head, a quick grin splitting her face. “I have your hat.”
“Then let’s go get it.” Ryder tweaked one of Shelby’s curls before he stood up. “And I’ll walk you and your mama home.”
Millie collected the glasses from the table, her gaze darting between Julia and Ryder. “You learn anything, honey?”
“Yeah, but we have a lot more to discuss.”
Ryder raised his brows, but before he could utter a word, Shelby grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the house. With narrowed eyes, Julia watched her daughter pull the handsome stranger inside. Seemed Ryder McClintock had cast a spell over her daughter, too.
As Julia and Ryder sauntered down the dirt road to her house, Shelby skipped ahead of them, examining every rock and stick along the way.
“She’s really bright and talkative.”
“She was my lifeline after the accident.” Tears pricked her eyes and she dashed them away. “Does she look anything like Jeremy?”
Ryder stiffened beside her and lifted a shoulder. “I think she looks like you.”
“Was I pregnant when Jeremy and I divorced?” It bothered her that she’d separate from her husband when they were going to have a child together.
Her house came into view, and Shelby pushed through the front gate.
“I didn’t know anything about your pregnancy.” Ryder kicked at some pebbles on the road. “You weren’t pregnant the last time I saw you in Paris…before I