Her Forgotten Cowboy. Deb Kastner
woman wasn’t the one who’d left him. And yet she was.
Even though they’d been separated and he’d had no real hope of reconciliation, his heart ached deeply that their whole relationship, every good and bad moment they’d experienced together, had just disappeared from her mind.
He had disappeared from her mind.
And now they were going to have a baby.
After everything, if God were gracious, they were finally going to see their dream come true.
Only now this special blessing was arriving in a crazy, broken world that Tanner had no idea how to fix. Not surprisingly, his gut ground with fear when he thought of this baby. Would he or she be healthy? He and Rebecca couldn’t handle another heartbreak like the first one, especially now.
Adding his guardianship of Mackenzie to the mix just made everything that much more confusing—and that much more pressing. They had to figure out how to deal with all of their problems now.
Today, he was showing Rebecca around the ranch. He hoped maybe the familiar setting might trigger something for her. That’s what her doctor had said.
Butterflies flitted around in his stomach. He had no idea why he was nervous. He’d been married to Rebecca near on six years now, even if they’d been separated for most of the last one.
It wasn’t as if they were strangers. But in the oddest way, this almost felt like they were going on a first date. And for some reason, he really wanted to impress her with his ranch.
Their ranch.
He supposed it was because he didn’t know how to act around her now. She was a different person from the woman he’d married, or even the one who had walked out on him six months ago.
He had to get to know this woman if they were going to get anywhere.
“I’m ready to go.”
Tanner’s heart leaped into his throat, hammering madly as he whirled around to see Rebecca enter the kitchen. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard her approach.
He swallowed hard when he got his first glance at her. She was wearing a cap-sleeved soft green T-shirt, formfitting blue jeans and sensible boots. She’d pulled her sleek auburn hair back into a ponytail and her copper eyes were glowing with anticipation.
One thing hadn’t changed, and that was how beautiful she was to him. She was simply stunning. He couldn’t help the way his heart always responded to her, now today just as it was then, from the day they’d first met.
Even if he didn’t have any idea of the woman she’d become.
“Great,” he said, setting his mug aside. “I’m anxious to show you everything. What would you like to see first?”
Her gaze went blank. “I don’t know. I can’t remember anything about the ranch. I barely know the names of the different kinds of animals, and that’s only because my mind remembers what I learned in kindergarten more than college. Old MacDonald Had a Farm, you know.” She chuckled dryly, but it wasn’t much of a joke. “You’ll have to show me around and explain just what it is you do here. I promise I’ll take good notes.”
He supposed that shouldn’t have surprised him. If she didn’t remember people, she wouldn’t remember places, either. Or animals.
Peggy and her late husband, Casey, had both been schoolteachers and Rebecca had grown up in a house in town.
Becoming a rancher’s wife had been a big adjustment for her, but she’d thrived on it. At least he’d thought she had, at the time. When they’d first married, she’d been excited about every little thing. After she’d plunged into a dark depression and wouldn’t so much as get out of bed, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he’d never understood his wife at all.
“Let’s start in the barn,” he decided. Earlier that morning, he’d stabled her sorrel quarter horse mare, Calypso, so Rebecca would be able to see her and interact with her. He desperately hoped for a spark of recognition. She and Calypso had been inseparable from the moment he’d bought the horse for her as a wedding gift. Rebecca had ridden out every day after coming home from teaching school and had insisted on caring for the mare herself.
“Chicken coop’s over there,” he said as they walked toward the barn. “You used to gather eggs every morning before you went off to class.”
“Really?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste and he could tell it wasn’t ringing a bell. “I actually picked up eggs from under a chicken?”
He chuckled. “That’s usually how it’s done. Do you remember that you’re a teacher?”
At this question she brightened up a little, her face coloring and her eyes sparkling.
“Middle school math. Try on this for weird and unexplainable. I still know how to do geometry and algebra. Even calculus and higher math. I might be able to go back to teaching at some point, as soon as I learn how to put names with faces again.”
“Right.” A cloud of discouragement formed in his chest. It seemed to him like she remembered everything except him. Was God punishing him for something? Because that’s what it felt like right now.
They entered the barn and he hesitated, waiting to see if she would pick out Calypso from the five horses he’d stabled for his little test.
Rebecca walked from stall to stall, pausing to look at each of the horses. After a moment, she turned back to Tanner.
“They’re all very nice,” she said hesitantly. “I feel like this is all faintly familiar. Do I like riding?”
“Very much,” he assured her. “You used to ride nearly every day. Do you have any idea which horse is yours?”
Her gaze widened and she shook her head.
“One of them is mine?” Her eyes lit with excitement and then darkened with frustration.
His heart dropped into his stomach. This must be incredibly traumatic for her. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the stress she must feel. And here he was selfishly dwelling on his own problems.
“You rode most afternoons after school to wind down and clear your head. I thought you might recognize your mare. This is Calypso.”
He led her to Calypso’s stall and she opened the gate, sliding in next to her mare and running a hand across her neck.
“Hello, Calypso. It’s nice to meet you—again.”
* * *
Rebecca felt just the slightest flash of recognition after Tanner had introduced her to her mare. It was so short she couldn’t grasp on to it and hold it, and she suspected it wouldn’t have happened at all if Tanner hadn’t outright told her which horse hers was.
She grabbed a soft-bristle brush from the wall and groomed Calypso, starting at her neck and working her way down. The act was both soothing and familiar. She hadn’t remembered Calypso, but yet she instinctively knew how to take care of her. Tanner didn’t have to tell her what to do.
“How do you know how to groom Calypso?” he asked. “You didn’t start riding until after we were married. You can’t remember anything about that time, or which horse is yours, but you know how to use a brush to groom Calypso?”
“I can’t answer that,” she said, putting the brush aside and affectionately running her hand down Calypso’s muzzle before exiting the stall.
“There are certain things I know how to do, like driving a car or grooming a horse, but I can’t remember people, or places—or specific animals, evidently. It must be some kind of muscle memory when it comes to doing certain things.”
His gaze narrowed on her and studied her closely. She started to feel like a trained monkey in a circus. In a way, she was no better than that, performing