Remembering Yesterday (2 page)

Chapter Two

Lightning cut across the sky and thunder rumbled, jarring Ava’s already shaky nerves. The Calhoun place loomed dark and empty, making her wonder about whether the old ranch house was occupied, like she’d heard. The Mouton’s ranch had been empty for years, and then it had finally been sold four months ago. The town folks had been eager to know who had bought the place, and who had hired local talent to breathe new life into the ranch.

The owner had remained anonymous until a few weeks ago, when word had filtered through the tiny town that a Calhoun now owned the ranch and its surrounding land. Then the name had not jarred anything inside of Ava. She had vaguely recalled Devlin had sit behind her in Biology and third period English in high school, the oldest Calhoun was in prison, and the youngest had joined the marines. She had been thoroughly fascinated by the townsfolks’ rabid curiosity and whisperings about the Calhouns. Her neighbours’ behaviour had intrigued her, but when she had asked her mom, Ava had only gotten a thin lipped reply that it was of no consequence. Of course that had not prevented her from hearing the speculations that it might have been dubious dealings and not honest work which had allowed one of the Calhoun to afford the Moulton two hundred and fifty acre ranch property.

The sprawling ranch house came into sharper view. The rooftop was still laden with snow, the sidewalks had been cleared, but snowdrifts still clung around the road edges and covered the fields and woods in the distance. It was a picturesque panorama but it was not the beauty of the scene around her that Ava was seeing. Her brain was playing back scenes which all starred Devlin Calhoun. She shivered in her down padded parka, mentally shook herself and forced her mind to concentrate on driving. She was almost at the ranch. Ava tapped gently on the gas, moving the four-wheel-drive van forward, careful of the thin sheet of ice which had formed on the rutted driveway.

Devlin had seen her a few days ago in town making an ass of herself, as she had gawked at him, and he had done
nothing
. So why was she trekking to his remote home, at after midnight on such a bad night? It was such a terrible idea, even if it was not late at night and lousy weather. But the hazy visions wouldn’t stop, the churning in her gut and the crazy sense of
knowing
which would not go away, they were driving her insane. Knowing that he was part of her life, or at least had been a part of the life she still could not fully remember. The emotions roused from mere memories absolutely terrified her. She had not been able to sleep properly since she had seen him in the diner. Ava had never imagined she could feel so intensely about anyone. She had let the questions bubble inside of her for three days and endless nights. Driven by a terrible restlessness, she’d made the decision to head out to his place, praying the cold, closed look she had seen on his face in the diner, didn’t mean the distaste she thought it did. Hopefully, she would finally get some closure in her life, on those missing twelve months her doctor told her she would never be able to regain.

She’d lied when Dr. Thompson had questioned her about what happened at the diner. She hadn’t had an “episode” in over eight months and he was—as expected—concerned. But those memories of Devlin, she could not have shared. For a wild moment she had even wondered, if they were simply a raw fantasy from seeing someone so wonderfully masculine and handsome. But the guilt in her mother’s expressions had put Ava on the alert.

Ava had asked both of her parents about him once she was back at home from the doctor’s, but they had remained tight-lipped. And strangely, they’d seemed angry as well as guilty. Even Patrick, the man she had been casually dating for the past few months, had been furious when she had asked him about Devlin. Benton was a small town, and Patrick had already gotten numerous calls from his friends to say that his girl had lost some of her marbles, when she’d spotted the middle Calhoun boy. She had wanted to rail at Patrick. Not just because she
wasn’t
his girl—not like that. But also because he’d had seemed more concerned, about what the townsfolk thought about her reaction, than about why she’d had a reaction in the first place. As if she could control her response to that strong a memory. If her parents thought that hiding the truth from her would make the memories go away, then they were wrong.

For the hundredth time she wondered if she was doing the right thing in dating Patrick. Ava knew she didn’t love him. They’d been friends as long as she could remember, but it was only at her parents’ insistence that she’d gone out with him in the first place—possibly because he was safe, a comforting anchor in her uncertain world. But six months later, they still hadn’t moved beyond lukewarm kissing. It obviously frustrated him, but she just wasn’t ready to move to a deeper level of intimacy.

She was broken.

She knew it, and Patrick knew it. She doubted she’d ever be able to feel safe in a relationship until she was somehow whole. But she feared that if she was ever whole again, there would be no place for him in her life. Ava should feel some sympathy for Patrick, because no matter how much he wanted her to love him, he was losing her. He tried hard but she would not grieve if they parted.

Coming to a stop, she struggled out of the car and stepped into the bracing wind and freezing rain. The cold slapped at her, jarring and wicked. Slamming the van door shut, she hurried up the wide wrap-around front porch, clutching her coat closer as the howling wind tried to rip it from her body. She shivered as she walked up to the door and rang the bell, then strained to hear if anything chimed over the winds and the occasional bellow of thunder. Banging her fist on the door and pealing the doorbell once more, Ava belatedly realized she might have been reckless in her need for closure. It was after midnight and the house seemed so echoingly empty.

She hoped her mother would not try to check in on her back at home. In the event Mom did, Ava had left a note on her pillow saying she was visiting her best friend Willow. Ava had tried to tell Willow of her memories. Her friend had seemed so shocked, but Ava thought there was something else behind her reactions. Willow had said that it had seemed too much that one of the town’s bad boys and their princess had done the dirty at one point. Those had been Willow’s words: ‘Done the dirty.’ Not Ava’s.

Even though she thought Willow might be right. The memories were explicit, raw and so very
dirty
.

Heat crawled up her neck as she took rapid breaths to calm her nerves. It wouldn’t do for him to open the door and see her blushing. After she rang the doorbell for what felt like the hundredth time, the door was finally flung open.

“Wha—?” His growl was cut short when he spied her.

Ava swallowed as awareness jolted through her. He was wearing faded, torn jeans, and a half-buttoned blue chambray shirt with its sleeves rolled to his elbows. She could see the dark hair on his chest, and she knew that hair arrowed down all the way to his briefs.

Panic clawed at her throat
. Oh God, I should not know that
.

Her eyes focused on his bare toes before she squared her shoulders and tilted her head.

“Hello,” she said, with a wobbly smile.

He opened the door a little wider and stepped into the space. The fierce intensity with which those brilliant green eyes watched her had Ava’s tummy flipping.

“What are you doing here in this weather?” He glanced behind her. “Did you drive over alone?”

She froze. He did not demand to know who she was. He knew her. Her heart started up a painful thumping. She snatched in a shuddering breath to steady herself. “I needed to see you.”

Shadows shifted across his face, and his eyes hooded. “Why? All that needed to be said has been said.”

She lifted her chin. “I have more to say.”

“Do you?” he drawled coldly and so dismissively.

Before she could answer, the sky opened and icy rain started to thump down in earnest. Relief pummelled her as he stepped back and allowed her entry. She’d thought for a moment he would refuse to see her. Ava strode into the warm haven and froze. She took in the brightly coloured Mexican rug, the paintings on the wall, the blue and silver sectional sofa against the wall, the colors of the drapes, and the design of the room . . . everything was so
familiar
.

She glanced over her shoulder and met his unblinking regard. “Have I been here before?”

Silence throbbed in the room and tension spiked inside her. “Devlin, I—”

He slammed the door. “No.”

She nodded and shrugged out of her wet coat. He took it from her soundlessly and then padded away. She went after him, and her heart jerked even more when she saw the kitchen. This was her dream kitchen. The one she’d often spoke to Patrick and Willow about, the one she had always wanted fitted into the home she saw herself owning in the future. But Devlin had said she’d never been here before.

She choked back the sob that wanted to rip from her.
What was going on?

Thunder rattled the window pane and she jumped. Suddenly she wanted to leave. The panic twisting inside of her felt too overwhelming. What was she thinking, confronting him at his home? “I made a mistake. I am so sorry. I need to leave.”

“Ava.”

The soft way he said her name, had her clenching her eyes in pain. There was a wealth of emotions in the words—need, interest, frustration.

“You
do
know me.”

“What?”

Her eyes flew open to meet his narrowed gaze. “I said,
you do know me
.”

He frowned and took a step toward her. She was unable to look away from his piercing gaze. He reached for her and she flinched from him. His expression blanked and he dropped his hand to his side. He moved around the kitchen island and sat on a stool. “Ava, what’s going on?”

How easily he said her name. With such familiarity.

“You know me. But I don’t know
you
. . . I mean I know of you, but I—”

Raw pain flared in his eyes, and the words stopped in her throat. The room was warm, but she still shivered. She had no idea where to start.

“Why are you here?” he demanded quietly at her hesitation. “After everything that happened, I never thought you’d come here.” Concern flickered in his gaze, and he folded his arms across his chest, relaxing his posture a bit. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you meant about not knowing me?”

He was so calm, so gently reassuring. Yet all she felt inside was a slow building of raw fear. Terror, harsh and acrid, stung the back of her throat, and she knew if she fought to find those missing months, the pieces of her life she’d been slowly recovering would be shattered. The life she was building would be drastically changed once again.

Chapter Three

“Exactly how do you know me?” The question sounded too demanding, but it made no sense for her to waver, when all she wanted to do was flee. Better to get it out before she lost her courage.

Devlin frowned. “Look, Ava, I don’t have time for games. You’re the one who said I should stay away from you, and now you’re here, asking me—what, exactly?”

She went around the table and sat in the breakfast nook. His stare was hot and probing, yet he didn’t rush her. He’d always been a patient man. That knowledge filtered into her mind and her mouth went suddenly dry. He made as if to join her, but she held up her hand. “Please stay there. I . . . I . . . would be more comfortable if you stayed on the stool, okay?”

He shrugged, but his eyes never left her face.

She took a deep breath. “Twelve months and two weeks ago, I woke up in Benton County hospital from a car accident.”

It was his turn to freeze, and the panic that chased his features clued her in a little more.
He still cared about her
.

She clenched her hands tightly under the table, not wanting him to see how hard it was for her to tell her story—no matter that she’d repeated it dozens of time already. “I didn’t have all of my memory—the entire year before my accident was missing.”

“What?”

Ava exhaled shakily. “I could remember everything, but those twelve months of my life. Retrograde amnesia, I was told. Or some version of it. The doctors said I may never remember that year fully.”

He shifted in his seat, his expression intent, as if he was straining not to come to her, to hold her and comfort her.

Now for the hard part. She took a deep breath and sat straighter in the chair. “I’ve had flashes of memories—I think of them as snapshots of my life—but they always elude me when I try to focus on them. Sometimes I’m in town, and something small triggers a fleeting memory. When I strain to recapture it, I have an attack . . . a panic attack. But I’ve never been able to remember a full memory from that year after a panic attack. Until three days ago.” She swallowed, fighting the blush that tried to climb her face. She was twenty-three, for God’s sake. But still, the mere idea of mentioning the details of her visions about what they’d done together was embarrassing. Especially to a guy who, for all intents and purposes, was a complete stranger to her.

She pushed back the chair, surged to her feet, and started to pace, careful not to look in his direction. “When I saw you at Jenny’s diner, memories of you slammed into me, but I don’t know you. I remembered . . . I remembered us making love. Skinny dipping in Lake Coonan.”

She waited, but he said nothing. The silence stretched. She desperately wanted to assess his expression, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

Finally, he chuckled, low and mocking. “It figures I’d be the one person you’d forget.”

At his bland drawl, she whirled to face him.

He was slicing rye bread and making a sandwich?

A flare of anger burned in her. “I didn’t choose to forget you!”

He rested the knife on the counter and shifted to face her fully, leaning his hip against the counter. “Forgive me, Ava. I know you didn’t. I’m very sorry about your accident and the pain you must have felt . . . are still feeling.” Regret gleamed in his gaze, and the tension that had been simmering in her gut relented.

His eyes darkened as he visibly braced himself. “You came here for an important reason if you drove in this weather. At this time of night. What do you want from me?”

Something was happening, but she couldn’t figure out what. He seemed tense, as if making the sandwich had been his way of staying in control. He was trying to appear relaxed, but she could see the taut wired tension vibrating through his frame.

“I came here because I wanted to understand. To find some closure. I’ve tried to move on with my life.” Her hands fisted in the front of her thick, hand knitted sweater and twisted the yarns. Frustration formed a dry lump which rose choking her throat and making her cough huskily. “I’ve tried to accept I may never recover those memories in full but I need to understand why I have these memories of you, in the first place.”

He wiped his hands on a towel and prowled over towards her. Since he’d opened the door, she’d had been doing her very best not to stare at his chest, but now he was standing so close to her, she couldn’t help it. She could not only see the extent of his powerful muscular body, but she could smell the sweet musk of his skin so close to her. It was intoxicating and she wanted to reach out and touch and breathe deep the scent of the essence of him. Greedily she drank in the strong powerful lines of his torso, the rigid sculpted muscles, trying to ignore the beating laden power surging through her limbs.

He was beautiful, sensual, and so graceful. How had they been lovers?

He lifted a hand to her cheek, using his thumb to caress her lower lip, and Ava ached deep inside of her, ached for wanting him. She wanted him to kiss her.
Damn it
. Now wasn’t the time. She trembled, fighting the instinct to move closer to his heady warmth.

“Do your parents know you are here, Ava?”

She stiffened. “No. But I don’t need their permission. I’m twenty-three.”

A mocking smile curved his lips. “Still sneaking out to see me.”

“Just tell me!”

“I was a summer fling for the Kane princess. It didn’t last long, and then we were over. Simple as that.”

Ava’s throat tightened. She still felt as if she was missing something. He was being too distant, too offhand. But if it had only been a fling . . . what did she expect? Their connection would have been fleeting, even if she hadn’t thought herself capable of getting involved in something so shallow.

He’d said that she snuck out to see him. She must’ve hidden their affair. Willow hadn’t known they’d been having sex—she’d said that she’d thought Ava really liked Devlin and hung out with him some, but she obviously hadn’t known it’d gone so deep for the pair of them.

“So we were never friends at all?”

He dropped his hand and stepped back to the counter. He indicated the bread and turkey slices. “Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. Are you going to answer me?”

“We’re not friends. Our families don’t mix.”

She winced. She knew that. Her father, William Kane, owned the only meatpacking business in town, and Devlin’s father had been the town drunk, arrested many times for being a public nuisance. She and he had nothing in common, yet that felt like she was lying to herself. Their family had not socialized. None of the Calhoun boys had ever been invited to her parents’ annual barbecue, or her birthday parties, despite the youngest boy, Joshua, being only a couple years younger than her, and Devlin was only a few months older than Ava. She had a vague memory of the boys standing on the sidewalk peering with yearning on their faces, as they watched everyone else having fun at her twelfth birthday party. Her parents had despised the Calhouns, one and all and it seemed they still did. Perhaps they had not been lying, perhaps they had never really known only suspected that Devlin and her had been involved. “Then how did we end up having a fling?”

“You flashed your ass in front of me, and I wasn’t man enough to resist.”

She flinched at his crude response. Before she could answer, though, he threw her a question. “How did you get into an accident?”

She was strangely grateful for the shift in topic. “I don’t know. I was told that I was on the road to Cedar Bluff and apparently I ran off the road. The report said I’d been speeding, but I don’t remember, and there were no witnesses.”

His entire body jerked. “Which day was it?”

“December thirteenth.”

She stared at the white-knuckled grip he suddenly had on the counter. Obviously, the date was important to him. Should it be to her? She strained to feel some deeper connection to him, and came up blank. He was very attractive, with his whipcord-lean body, chiselled chin, and cool eyes, but the only
feeling
she could summon for him was lustful attraction. Outside of her fleeting snapshots of memories, he was a complete stranger. Sure, they’d attended the same high school, but he was just another member of the distant townsfolk she had no real connection with. It seemed almost impossible that they’d had anything deep and sensual or loving between them.

But then, from his own mouth . . . they
hadn’t
had anything between them. Certainly not friendship. Only sex. A fling. One which it appeared had not been worth her remembering. A fling which had been so unimportant to him, that it had not been worth him bothering to acknowledge her, when he saw her in town. She suspected she had even given her virginity to this man and she wasn’t worth an acknowledgment.

“I should go. The rain has let up and my parents will be worried.”

His green eyes captured hers and, for a moment in time, she was falling into them. She shook her head to clear her fanciful thoughts and gave him a tentative smile when he still said nothing. She grabbed her dripping coat and reluctantly climbed back into it.

Finally, he spoke. “Let me walk you out.”

Disappointment rushed through her. What had she expected? For him to ask her to stay? To demand they talk some more? She followed him through the gorgeous kitchen, then the living room, and into the hall. She felt so deflated, small and unimportant, as if she was worthless and so easily discarded. Without saying anything he opened the door. She hesitated before shoring up her courage to leave.

“Goodbye, Devlin,” she said softly and walked down the stairs towards the van.

Tears burned her throat. For some crazy reason, it felt as if she was walking away from her future as well, not only her past.

As the rain drizzled down on her, she prayed she was making the right decision in leaving. She knew in her gut they’d more than just a damned fling. She’d seen the concern in his eyes, the flare of pain and need. But she had no idea how to start breaching the walls of a reserved stranger . . . a stranger her body and mind had come alive for.