I'll Remember You (Hell Yeah!) (10 page)

Austin smiled. “Yes, I’m going out after dinner with Brock. We’re going to get a beer. I wanted you to know. I’ve been missing hanging out with a guy.” He offered by way of an explanation.

Almost, almost she demanded that he not go. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Brock. She did. He was a good employee, her father’s favorite. But the idea of Aron alone with a man who might suspect her story about Austin’s identity was almost unbearable. She had strove to quell any talk of Aron/Austin and why he was here, but stemming the flow of gossip at operations as big as Los Banos and El Duro was next to impossible. “All right.” She covered his hand with hers. “But don’t be long. I have a special night planned for us.” Briefly, she considered planting a bug on him, to monitor his conversations, but she rejected the idea. As deceptive as their relationship was at the moment, Martina longed to build a future with him based on mutual trust and love. Because yes, she loved Aron McCoy.

A special night? Austin compressed his lips. Well, he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. “You wanted to show me something?” He thought it might be best if he changed the subject.

He was wrong.

Martina pulled out a brochure, gave a very distinct feminine wiggle and spread it out. “Help me pick out our wedding cake. I want a Christmas wedding.”

Chapter Five

Tebow Ranch

“Libby! You’ve got a package,” Nathan called. He walked into the living room. Cady and Avery had begun to decorate for the holidays. Tricia, Avery’s partner at the florist shop, had brought in huge wreaths and fall flower arrangements. On the porch were bales of hay, pumpkins, even a scarecrow. And he knew right after Thanksgiving, they would start putting up Christmas decorations. A feeling of guilt made Nathan hang his head. He knew why they were doing it; they were trying to make him happy.

Didn’t they understand?

Aron was gone. Being happy just felt wrong. How could they celebrate anything when Aron might be dead? Or what if he was hurt somewhere or lost?

Nathan went to the refrigerator and looked in, staring. He didn’t even know what he was looking for. It was hard to put his thoughts together. Awful ideas were going through his head. What if a shark ate his brother? What if he’d drowned and been swept out to sea? What if he’d been kidnapped by pirates? The worst part was, no one would talk to him about any of it. They were trying to protect him, but what they were doing was shutting him out. And it hurt.

“Need something?” Libby stood behind him. “Can I fix you something to eat?”

Nathan turned, closing the fridge. “No, I’m not hungry.” Lately, he couldn’t look Libby in the face. He didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want her to see how much he was hurting or if he couldn’t stand to see the hopeless pain in her eyes. “I laid your package on the table.”

“Nathan,” she began, her voice soft. “I’ve missed you.” Libby knew she had shut everyone and everything out after the shock of Aron’s disappearance. There was a time, not long ago, when she and Nathan could talk about anything. She made him brownies. She helped him with his homework. They talked about his brothers, his mother, Bess—even girls.

Nathan felt tears prickle at the back of his throat. “I’ve missed you, too.”

She lifted her hand and touched his arm. They were the same height, but still she was so important to him. He wanted to… “Oh, Libby.”

He walked into her arms and she held him tight. Laying his head on her shoulder, Nathan cried. “I miss him, so much.”

“I miss him, too.” She hugged him hard. His tears were splashing on her neck and hers were running down her face.

“I’m so afraid,” he sobbed.

“Don’t be afraid.” She soothed him. “We won’t let anything happen to you. You have all of us—Jacob, Joseph, Isaac and Noah, plus all the girls. We’d do anything for you.”

“I’m not afraid for me,” he whispered brokenly. “I’m afraid for Aron.”

Silence. “Oh.” Libby shook. Nathan’s hold on her tightened. “I’m afraid for him, too. I lay awake some nights and just try to feel him. I try to connect with him, to know where he is and how he’s feeling.”

“Me too,” Nathan confessed. “I dreamed about him last night.” She led him to sit down at the table.

“Tell me.” She urged him. Pouring them both a glass of milk, she got the cookie jar. “Snickerdoodles. Cady made them.”

“Thanks.” He took a couple. “I saw him on a horse. He was riding in a desert looking place. It wasn’t green there like it is here. And there was another man with him. And they rode up to this house which was made of pale orange stone. There were arches all across the front of the house. And everybody there spoke Spanish.”

Libby didn’t know what to think. “That was some dream. What else?”

“Not much,” he admitted. “Only they didn’t call him Aron. Everybody there called him Austin.”

“Did he look happy?” That was a stupid question, she knew. But sometimes dreams meant things.

“Yea, I guess so.” He smiled.

“Well, if you dream about him again, will you let me know?”

“Yes.” He bit a big bite of cookie and washed it down with milk. “You know what else?”

“What?” She munched on a cookie, too.

“I met a girl. Her name is Tina.”

“Oh, really?” She reached out for another cookie. “What’s she like?”

“She’s pretty and smart. Reading is her favorite past time.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hey, you’re getting better all the time.” His dyslexia was something they had worked together to beat.

“Yea, I know.” He blushed. “We’re gonna talk on the phone tonight.”

“Oh, my goodness.” Libby smiled, grabbing another cookie. “I’m glad.”

Nathan laughed and pushed the whole platter toward her. “You’re eating a cookie out of both hands.”

Libby looked and sure enough, she was clutching one snickerdoodle in her left hand and one in her right. “I’m a two fisted cookie eater, because I’m pregnant with twins.”

“Yea, likely story. Did you look at your package?”

“No.” She picked it up. “But I’m going to now. And you...” She wrapped both cookies up in a paper towel for later. “Invite that girl over her for supper. I want to meet her.” 

Libby glanced down at the return address on the box and nearly sat back down in the chair. Kerrville Photography Studio. It was her wedding pictures.

***

Los Banos

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit.  A wedding? Oh, shit. “I thought girls needed, uh, years to plan.”

“No. No.” Martina laughed. “A Christmas wedding will be perfect for us.” Perhaps a double wedding. She had returned Javier’s phone call and Joaquin wanted to meet Alessandra. Now all she had to do was break the news to the bride-to-be.

Speaking of.

“Hello, you two!” The younger Delgado sister came breezing in. A waft of sweet smelling perfume accompanied her.

“Join us.” Austin pulled out a chair for Alessandra. He was glad for the company. Maybe it would get his so-called fiancé’s mind off of orange blossoms and honeymoons. Bam! Another feeling of déjà-vu struck him as the word passed through his mind. He looked down at his hand...no mark of a wedding ring. Yet, he could almost see someone walking down the aisle toward him, his heart pounding as he waited to take her hand. 

“What’s going on?” Alessandra picked up the brochure, then widened her eyes. “Are you getting married?”

“No—Yes.” He and Martina answered simultaneously. Then, he added. “Not anytime soon.”

“We’re thinking of a holiday ceremony.” Martina took her sister’s hand. “I have good news for you, hermana menor.”

“What?” Alessandra brightened. “Do you want me to be your maid of honor?”

“Why, yes.” Martina smiled. “But this isn’t about my wedding, it’s about yours.”

Alessandra froze. “You know about…” She coughed. “How did you find out?”

Her sister ignored what she was saying and just plunged ahead. “You have been chosen by one of Mexico’s richest, most eligible bachelors.”

Her smooth forehead wrinkled. Now, she was really confused. “Chosen for what?”

Austin was looking back and forth between them like he was watching a tennis match. He had no idea what was going on.

“Chosen to be his wife!” She spread her hands in a grand, dramatic gesture.

Austin had to hand it to Martina, she delivered devastating news like she was passing out a Publisher’s Clearing House Winner notification.

But Alessandra’s reaction shocked them both. He had never seen anyone collapse in on themselves before. The beautiful woman just crumpled and a fountain of tears started to flow. “No!” She screamed. “I will marry no one but Brock. I’m in love!”

There was one advantage of two women having an intense argument…any man in the room could sneak out undetected.

So, Austin made his escape.

He knew how Alessandra felt. He couldn’t marry a woman he didn’t love. Martina would just have to understand when he lost his memory that changed things for him—if she was telling the truth. He hated to be suspicious of someone who’d saved his life. But things just didn’t feel right for him, plus there were these dreams he kept having. The woman on the coin seemed to call to him.

As he walked across the lawn, he thought of all the things which didn’t make sense to him. One of them was the claim she made that he was from Wyoming. Austin would bet his life he was from Texas. The memories of another ranch, another family and another woman were beginning to become clearer and clearer. In fact, he didn’t plan on being here very much longer at all. Certainly not long enough to get married at Christmas. By then, he’d be just a cloud of dust going down the road. But one thing bothered him. If this was true and he was wrong, then the blow to his head did more damage than he realized. But if he was right and Martina was lying, the question was why? Could all of this just be wishful thinking? Or was he the pawn in some kind of crazy game?

Austin hadn’t been waiting long before Brock came driving up. He’d figured the man was the one seeing Alessandra, but now he knew the situation was much more than casual.

“Ready?” Brock rolled the window down.

“Yea.” Austin went around and crawled in the cab of the truck. “Where are we going?”

“There’s a bar about a half hour away, Rosa’s.” Without any more of an explanation, he pulled out and they were soon on their way.

Austin watched the surrounding country-side with interest. He hadn’t been awake the last time he’d arrived. Tomas had told him he came by ambulance. It seemed there was a full medical facility on the ranch and another at Esteban’s house in town. That confused Austin. Perhaps it was because they were so far out in the country and maybe Mexico didn’t have the network of physicians and hospitals that America had. In fact, nothing was as he expected it to be. Not even the entrance to the ranch was normal. It looked more like the exterior of a prison, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the fence was electrified and topped with barbed wire. “What the hell? What kind of place is this?”

Brock laughed. “You have no idea what kind of mess you’re embroiled in, do you?”

“Apparently not.” He rolled the window down to get a little breeze in his face. “Care to enlighten me?”

Looking him in the eye, then back to the road, Brock looked dead serious. “You really have no idea?”

“No.”

“Well, let’s wait till we’re in the bar. You’re going to need a drink before you hear what I have to say.”

***

Tebow Ranch

Libby’s hands shook as she carried the packet of photographs. Almost running, she headed up the stairs, going straight for her and Aron’s room. Throwing open the door, she escaped inside, closing it and leaning against it out of breath.

Running her hand over the slick cardboard, she had to decide if she was strong enough to do this. Would it be easier to stick them in a drawer and not look at all, or could she steel herself to gaze at his face? God, she couldn’t not do it. This was Aron on their wedding day.

“I love you so much,” she whispered. Going to the bed where they’d slept, where they’d made love, she crawled up in the middle of it. Then she changed her mind and moved over on his side of the bed, scooting back up to lean on his pillow. Silly her, she hadn’t changed his pillowcase from the last time he’d slept on it. When she’d come back from the Caymans, Libby had been grateful no one had changed the sheets. Oh, she’d washed them since then, switched them out, but not his pillow case. It still smelled like him, his own unique scent of soap, leather and the sweet scent of grass and hay. Burying her head in the soft cotton, she rubbed her cheek against it, pretending it was his shirt and he had his arms wrapped tightly around her body.

A deep, sharp pang of grief dug a gash in her heart. Where was he? The family hadn’t quit looking, but she could tell their faith was starting to falter. How could it not? There had been no trace of him. Oh, plenty of leads, but none of them concrete. None of them had panned out.

A bolt of thunder outside made her jump. The sky had darkened, she could hear the wind blowing. Libby leaned over and turned on the bedside lamp. A storm was coming.

Taking a deep breath, she took the package in hand and began to open it. Tugging at the edges, she finally broke the seal. With trembling fingers, she slid the photographs out.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered. There they were. Swirls of happiness collided with piercing thorns of regret. There were photos of their rehearsal dinner and the rehearsal itself. Everyone looked so happy. She touched Aron’s face as he handed her the sculpture he’d made for her. She had given him pictures of their unborn babies. And here was one of them dancing. Libby swayed, remembering the sound of the music and how it had felt to be held close to him. He was so big and strong. She knew she was safe with Aron. When she’d been sick, it always seemed to her that if she could just hold on to him, nothing could ever hurt her again.

One by one, she picked up the portraits. They were so wonderful. The photographer had performed miracles with her. She was actually beautiful. But Aron…he looked so incredible. With one finger, she touched his face. They were standing in front of the preacher and he was looking at her with such love in his eyes. She could recall exactly how she felt as she gazed up at him. He had whispered ‘I love you, Libby-mine.’ How lucky she was. And the kiss they shared on their wedding day, she almost swooned at the memory. He had literally picked her up. Her feet hadn’t touched the ground. When Aron kissed her, he consumed her, he inhaled her. She always felt so cherished. There was no other man in the world like Aron McCoy. He was her hero. He was her protector. He was her life. “Aron, come home to me. Please.” Clutching the pictures to her chest, she prayed. “I need him, God. We need him. Please give him back to me.”