Remember Me (7 page)

“I’ll get them for you—I know where they are.” She turned to leave.

“You’re not going to help me undress?”

“Don’t push your luck. You’re not helpless, whatever you may have thought outside. Do as you’re told.” She disappeared into the kitchen.

“Yes, ma’am.” How did she know that’s what had gone through his mind? He sighed and walked over to the bathroom. It didn’t take Einstein to work out what a previously fit and athletic man would be thinking after having his leg amputated.

When he returned to the bedroom, she stood by the side of the bed. She’d put a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the bedside table. He walked around the bed and paused, suddenly awkward.

“I’m not going until you’re tucked in,” she said.

“Rose...”

Her kind smile melted his defenses. “Will you show me your leg?”

He looked away. He didn’t want her to see it, but that was just childish vanity talking.

“Come on.” She held out a hand. “Give me the crutches.”

He sighed and lowered himself onto the mattress. She put the crutches to one side, and he pulled off his T-shirt. Then he unbuttoned his cutoffs and slid them off before he turned on the mattress to lie down, wearing only his boxers. He closed his eyes as she bent over him, her hands warm on his thigh as she examined the wound.

“It’s healing well,” she said softly.

He nodded but didn’t open his eyes, suddenly emotional. He didn’t want to see the pity in hers, the disappointment or the resignation that he would never be the same again.

She covered him with the duvet, then to his surprise, the bed dipped. He opened his eyes to see her lying beside him, still dressed. She curled up next to him and leaned on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her, touched and thankful for the human contact.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He wasn’t sure why she’d apologized. For him losing his leg? For turning him down? It didn’t matter, really. He couldn’t remember much of the past—moving forward was the only option. “That’s okay.” He kissed the top of her head and lay back, tired and overwhelmed with the day. Tomorrow would be better.

Especially if he saw Rose again.

***

He had a restless few hours’ sleep, snapping awake occasionally to the regular nightmare of blinding light and noise, but this time Rose was there to stroke his head and comfort him. Eventually, he fell into a deep sleep where the dreams couldn’t penetrate, and when he finally awoke, light streamed through the gap in the curtains. Rose was gone, and the smell and sound of bacon frying filtered into the room.

He pulled on his pants and picked up the crutches, went to the bathroom and then walked along to the kitchen. Brandon bounded up to greet him, excited as if he’d been gone six months. Eamon stood at the hob, alone.

“Hey.” His brother smiled as he whipped the scrambled eggs in the pan. “I was about to come and wake you—it’s nearly ten. You slept well.”

“I did—eventually.” Hamish perched on a stool at the breakfast bar, wondering when Rose had left.

“She’s coming back later,” Eamon said, reading his mind. “Don’t worry.”

“When did she go?”

“After I came in around midnight. I walked her back to her place.” Eamon laughed at Hamish’s face. “Don’t worry, bro, I’m not making a move on her. She only has eyes for you.”

“I wasn’t...” Hamish sighed. He couldn’t deny it. “Sorry.”

Eamon shrugged. “She’s your girl. I don’t blame you for being jealous. She’s a cracker.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize the bomb took away your eyesight as well.” Eamon gave him a wry look. “She’s still crazy about you.” He scooped the eggs onto a plate with the bacon and toast and pushed it across the table.

“Thanks.” Suddenly ravenous, Hamish tucked in.

“She talked about you all the way back to her house.”

“That doesn’t mean she wants to get back together again.” He chewed a mouthful of bacon. “Did she tell you I asked her to marry me in June before I left?”

“No! Christ!”

“I know. She turned me down.”

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Eamon returned to making the tea. Pushing the mugs across, he brought his plate around next to Hamish, and they sat and ate quietly for a while.

“Because of the Army thing?” Eamon had clearly been pondering on the problem.

“Yeah. Her dad was in the Forces. Screwed up her childhood by all accounts. She doesn’t want to go down that road again. Which is fair enough.”

Eamon chewed thoughtfully. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do now?”

“I’m not sure yet.” Hamish took a swallow of his tea. “The Army asked me to make my decision once I’ve had the prosthetic fitted. There are a few options—a desk job, training, that sort of thing. Here or in Afghanistan. I haven’t made up my mind.”

“Do you want to go back?”

He looked out of the window. The sea glittered a startling blue under the brilliant summer sun. His records had stated he enjoyed surfing, and he had the feeling that in the past, at first light he would have been out riding the waves, but that life wasn’t for him anymore. “I don’t know. I can’t make any judgments based on how things used to be. I have to decide based on how I feel now and what’s right for me from here on. And...I’m not sure.”

Eamon nodded and crunched his toast. “Well that’s what this time’s for, isn’t it? To rest and recover—to make up your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Footsteps echoed on the deck, and Brandon bounded off to greet the newcomer. Hamish’s spirits lifted as Rose appeared in the open doorway and bent to stroke the boxer.

“Hey,” she said, standing and hesitating in the doorway.

“Hi.” Hamish knew he had a stupid smile on his face.

She waved a brown paper bag. “I brought muffins in case you hadn’t had breakfast, but I can see you’ve already eaten.”

“Never too full for a muffin.” Eamon beckoned her in and went over to the kettle. “Want a cuppa?”

“Please.” She came in and smiled hesitantly at Hamish. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thanks to you.” He smiled back.

“You were sound-o when I left.”

“The party yesterday afternoon wore me out.”

“I can understand that. Do you...” She hesitated. “I wasn’t sure whether to come back or not. If you want me to go, please, just tell me.”

His eyes met hers, and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “I can sincerely say that’s the last thing in the world I want right now.”

Eamon passed Rose her tea and grinned at his brother. “Except for losing your other leg.”

Hamish rolled his eyes. “Well, yes, obviously, apart from that.”

Eamon winked at Rose, and she giggled.

Hamish pushed his plate away with mock indignation. “I’m glad to see you both having so much fun at my expense.”

“Absolutely. Lord knows I’ve put up with you taking the piss out of me for long enough. It’s about time I had some ammunition.” Eamon opened the bag and took out the muffins. “Here, this’ll cheer you up.” He pushed one over to his brother.

Hamish bit into it. Made with spinach, it harbored a huge square of cream cheese inside. “Nice.”

“They’re called Popeye muffins. They were your favorites,” Rose said.

He studied the muffin. “I guess I’ve got to learn all over again what things I love.”

The three of them fell quiet. Eamon gave them an amused look before turning away to transfer the plates to the sink.

Rose blushed and lowered her eyes. But she didn’t move away.

They sat on the deck and talked for a while, and then they went for a slow walk along the beach while Eamon threw driftwood into the ocean for Brandon to retrieve. After that, they made lunch of cold chicken rolls, which they ate while they played cards.

As the afternoon drew on and the sun made the tarmac on the road shimmer as if it were wet, tiredness overwhelmed Hamish again, so he had a snooze in the shade while Rose read a magazine she’d found in the house. Eamon took Brandon for a longer walk up to the shops to get some bread and milk.

When he returned, they watched a DVD together, all sitting on the sofa, Rose in the middle with Brandon stretched out by their feet, beers in their hands to stave off the heat of the day.

Finally, Rose said she had to go home. Hamish accompanied her to the door, wishing she’d stay longer, but unsure how to take things further.

Pausing at the doorway, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for a lovely day.”

“Thank
you.
I had a great time. Very relaxing.” He studied her cool blue eyes. He yearned to kiss her, but he knew he had to bide his time. “Will you... Can I see you tomorrow?”

She smiled. “If you want.”

“I do want.”

“Then I’ll come back in the morning.”

He nodded happily. “See you then.”

“Bye Eamon,” she called as she walked down the steps to the deck.

“See ya!”

She ran along the sand and slowed eventually to a walk. Hamish sighed. He was falling for her again. He’d already lost her once. Could he go through it again, if she decided in the end it was over between them?

Chapter Eight

I’ll just pop in tomorrow and then get going.
Rose said the words repeatedly as she walked up to the McIntyres’ house the next day. She’d had another sleepless night as she wrangled over the decision of what to do. If she continued to see Hamish, she was only going to fall deeper in love with him, and if he eventually decided to go back into the Army, he’d break her heart all over again. The last time had been hard—so hard. She’d cried enough tears to fill the Tasman, had thought of him day and night right up until the moment she heard of his accident.

Who am I kidding?
She chided herself as she neared the house.
You’re already in way over your head, girl. And there’s no easy way out
.

For the next week, she walked to the house every day. Sometimes they went out with Eamon and Brandon, sightseeing or visiting local vineyards and restaurants. Sometimes they stayed in, watched DVDs, and played games into the evening. But she didn’t stay the night again. And Hamish didn’t push her. She sensed he—like her—was waiting to see how things developed between them before he committed himself. Both of them were unsure, both wary. And yet they couldn’t keep apart.

The Saturday afternoon following Hamish’s return, Eamon announced he was returning to Kerikeri. “I’ve got three weeks off to be with the bro here,” he told Rose, “but they’re short at the station so I said I’d fill in for one night.”

“It’s okay,” she told Eamon. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“
He
is right here.” Reading the paper, Hamish didn’t bother looking up at them. “And I’m not an invalid, as the two of you keep reminding me. I can cope quite well on my own.”

They ignored him. Eamon nodded. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.” He gathered a few items and his car keys. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I won’t wait up.” Hamish turned the page.

Rose laughed and kissed Eamon on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

She watched him go out to his car and called to Brandon as the boxer ran after him. The dog came running back and went in to check on Hamish, who huffed a sigh. “I wish the three of you would stop fussing around me.”

She perched on the edge of the sofa. “I’m sorry if that’s how it feels. I don’t mean to mother you. I can remember when I broke my leg at fifteen and had to have it in plaster— even carrying a glass of water to your seat’s impossible.” She tipped her head. “You want me to go?”

“Nah.” He tossed the paper aside. “That was just a smokescreen. I like being bossed about.”

She laughed and sat on the sofa next to him. He’d propped his good leg on the coffee table, and the sight of his shortened right leg no longer shocked her. He rubbed his thigh from time to time. It must ache terribly. “When are you going to sort out the prosthetic?”

“End of the month. It should be healed well enough by then.”

She nodded. “And after that?”

He met her gaze. “I don’t know yet.”

He looked uncertain, maybe worried about how she viewed his changed appearance. He was a proud man, a born soldier, and even though he couldn’t remember his previous lifestyle, he hadn’t changed his personality.

He stroked Brandon’s head. “Want to watch a DVD?”

“Sure.”

She chose
Some Like it Hot
, an old black-and-white Marilyn Monroe movie they both loved, and curled up beside him. He wouldn’t remember watching it with her only six months before, but he’d enjoyed it then. She’d chosen a comedy to keep the atmosphere light, because she had a feeling their emotions were going to build as the evening went on.

In the end, though, she had a really enjoyable time. They laughed their way through the movie, then cooked themselves a stir fry, with Hamish slicing the vegetables and her frying them up on the stove. She carried the plates to the table over by the window and they ate looking out at the evening sun, talking about this and that and finishing off with a glass of wine. Then they returned to the sofa, although this time they left the TV off and sat talking.

As the sun set, she sighed happily, content in his company. He sat on her right, his arm along the back of the sofa, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body. On impulse, she leaned toward him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He brought his arm around her. “Yeah, me too.” The tightness of his grip belied his relaxed answer, and he kissed her hair.

She lifted her head. His warm brown eyes studied her calmly. In an ideal world, he’d tell her he wasn’t going back into the Army and wanted to stay with her, but he wouldn’t make those promises yet, if ever. He’d probably be afraid to ask in case she refused, plus she knew he hadn’t made his mind up about his career.

She mustn’t over-think this. She had to trust her heart.

So she raised her hand, threaded her fingers through his hair, and brought his head down to kiss him.

He didn’t resist and sighed as their lips met. His other arm came around her and tightened as if he were afraid to let her go. He kissed her passionately and swept his tongue into her mouth as she parted her lips, and she nearly cried, both with joy at the beautiful familiarity of it and with sorrow at the time they’d wasted being apart. If only she’d tried to talk him into staying, maybe she would have been able to persuade him and then he wouldn’t have lost his leg or his memory... But it was pointless to think like that. All she could do was look forward and see how she could make his life better now, today, this moment.