Bishop's Rock. Amanda Stevens
it all seems so trivial now.
Perhaps to him, but Lea couldn’t help wondering about an affair. She’d seen the reaction he stirred at the rehab center. He was extraordinarily handsome—dark haired, dark eyed, clean shaven—and very charming. Charismatic was the word that came to mind. Wealthy was another. He wore a Rolex and his cologne smelled of cedar and vanilla. Funny how she could recognize the base notes of his fragrance, but she couldn’t remember his personal scent. Not the taste of him, either, or the feel of his hands on her body in the dark.
She shivered and turned to stare out the window. He’d pulled off the main road onto a long drive lined with live oaks and cedars. To the right, easy hiking trails led back into the woods and to the left, a series of jagged arroyos and canyons had been carved from limestone cliffs, all silhouetted against the dramatic backdrop of a four-hundred-foot granite slab.
“Bishop’s Rock,” Andrew said beside her. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“I would have said imposing,” Lea murmured.
“You didn’t used to think so. We once climbed all the way to the summit just to watch the sunset.”
She fastened her gaze on the peak. “Hard to believe, considering I get winded just walking up stairs.”
“You’re still recovering. Your body is healing and, in time, your memories will come back. You’ll see. But you don’t need to worry about any of that right now. All you need do on this trip is rest and recuperate.”
“I couldn’t do that at home?”
“You could. But after everything you’ve been through...after everything we’ve been through...” His gaze flitted over her face marked with fading bruises, then lingered on the stitched cut at her left temple, which she tried to hide with the sweep of her hair. He turned back to the road. “Anyway, I thought a getaway might be for the best. At home, there would be people coming over, friends wanting to see you. They all mean well, but it’s too soon to put you under that kind of microscope.”
“What about my family?”
He gave her a patient look. “We’ve been through that. There’s no one.”
She closed her eyes on a sigh. “It’s just so hard to believe. No parents, no siblings, no one at all?”
“You have me.”
“And I’m grateful for that. Truly. You’ve no idea how terrifying it was waking up in that hospital, not knowing who I was or how I’d gotten there. I felt so alone and helpless—”
He cut her off. “Why even go there? I’m here now and I’m not leaving. Try to relax, okay? This place will be good for us. It’s quiet and secluded and no one knows us here. We’ll have a chance to get reacquainted before people start poking their noses in our business.”
She gave him a doubtful glance. “Isn’t that just putting off the inevitable? I’ll have to face them sooner or later.”
“But not today.” He slid his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers. Another smile flashed, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Trust me, Lea. This is all for the best.”
* * *
HE HAD BEEN thoughtful enough to book separate rooms.
“I know you need your space.” He stood at the window with his back to Lea, a tall, elegant man who meant nothing to her. As if sensing her discord, he turned. “I’ll be right next door if you need me. I’ve entered my number in your new cell so that wherever you are, I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thank you.” Lea sat down on the edge of the bed, at a loss as to what to do next. Her gaze fell on the unfamiliar luggage that had been placed on the rack. The suitcase looked expensive. Everything about her husband suggested money, and plenty of it, and yet the notion of a privileged life seemed foreign to her. She supposed unpacking the luxurious bag would be a bit like opening a present on Christmas morning. She had no idea what she would find inside. Andrew had taken care of everything.
A new wardrobe for a new beginning, he’d said.
You don’t think I should wear my normal clothes? Maybe a favorite sweater or scarf would help jog my memory.
You’ll have plenty of occasions to wear your old clothing. Right now I feel the need to pamper my wife.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just...
Please don’t do that.
What?
You still look so hopeless at times. So lost. But it’s all going to be okay. You’ll see. I’ll take good care of you, Lea. I’ll take care of everything. All you have to do is get well.
“Did you hear what I said?”
She snapped back to the present. “I’m sorry. Something about dinner?”
“It’s at seven. Plenty of time for a bath or even a nap if you need one.”
“That sounds nice.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He went into the bathroom and came back with a glass of water and her medication.
“I feel fine,” she protested.
“I saw you rubbing your temple just now. You have a headache, don’t you?”
“Just a small one.”
“Take this before it gets worse. Doctor’s orders.”
She complied, washing down the blue pill with a generous sip of water. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Just get some rest. And call if you need me.”
He left the room without a backward glance.
Lea remained motionless for a moment, trapped once more by a wave of panic and despair that threatened to engulf her. She desperately wanted to believe that everything would be okay. The doctor had been confident that her memories would return in time, either all at once or over the course of weeks, months, even years. Sometimes all it took was one cue. So much about the memory remains a mystery, he had explained. Each case of amnesia is unique. We can explore certain therapies, of course, but time and patience is key.
What if her memories never came back? What if she was destined to spend the rest of her life suspended in this strange, dreamlike existence? How long would Andrew wait for her? How soon would her condition and his patience wear thin?
She got up and walked into the bathroom to splash cold water on her face. Patting her skin dry, she stared at her reflection as she’d done dozens of times over the past several days, searching features that were as strange to her as the man next door. Brown hair, hazel eyes, light to medium complexion. She was attractive, but not a woman to turn heads. Rather, she would blend easily into a crowd. Even without all those fading bruises, no one would give her a second look without Andrew Westin at her side.
Which begged so many questions. How had the two of them met? How long had they been together? When and where had they been married?
All in due time, Lea. The doctor warned against overwhelming you. Once we’re all settled in at the retreat, we can start filling in the blanks little by little.
She went back into the bedroom to unpack, snipping off tags with the cuticle scissors she found in a well-stocked makeup bag. At the bottom of the suitcase was a stack of new underwear, nothing too racy, but the lacework was beautiful. She found shoes, too—sneakers, sandals, heels. A pair for every occasion. Lea wanted to enjoy the elaborate purchases, but it seemed like such a waste when she undoubtedly had everything she needed at home.
But maybe she didn’t. Maybe she’d moved everything out of their house when they decided to take a break. Andrew might not have a key to her new place. He might not even know her address. Instead of telling her the truth, he’d bought her a new wardrobe to mask the seriousness of their marital situation.
Don’t