Rebeka
DAMN, I SHOULD'VE BROUGHTa flashlight. The tiny light on the phone wasn't anything but a tease in the pitch black of the night. If I stepped on a rattler just to see B again, I'd take it as an omen to get my ass in the truck, drive back to Midland, and never think of the gorgeous man again.
With each cautious step toward the main house, my nervous energy ticked higher and higher. I was almost to the window of his room when a nearby bang sent me leaping a foot in the air with a quick yelp of surprise. Sounds of cursing and heeled shoes clicking along the flagstone diverted me from my original destination.
Prickly leaves scraped at my hand and arm as I moved a section of a tall bush aside. Through the hole, I watched Brenton collapse into a patio chair and lean forward to massage his temples. Even from there I could tell he was emotionally and physically exhausted. No doubt the day was difficult for him. Even if he couldn't remember me, or this place, surely he remembered his amazing grandfather and mourned the loss.
After a few minutes of gazing at his sexy profile from the shadows, I chastised myself. When did I become a creepy stalker? Without a glance back to where I was retreating, I took a step, eager to get away unseen. Dread shot through my veins, cutting off my breath at something soft and wiggly pinned beneath the heel of my boot. Terrified, I propelled myself forward, right into the bush. With a curse, I hastily disengaged myself from the branches and pokey leaves with a few swats, only to stumble back and land sprawled on the dusty ground.
Shit.
There was still a chance he didn’t hear the commotion, though that hope was dashed when a dark, ominous shadow encroached. To my horror and absolute embarrassment, B stood over me, hands on his hips, smirking.
“What in the hell are you doing?” He squatted beside where I still sat in the dirt, too afraid to move in case the snake came back. “You okay?”
“I stepped on a snake, okay? Scared the shit out of me.”
His dark brows pulled together. “Did it bite you?”
Rotating one ankle and then the other, I shook my head. “No stinging, and I didn't feel a bite, so I should be good.”
Pulling out his phone, he shined the dim light along the ground. A deep, humorous chuckle eased my nerves and pissed me off in the same breath. He pulled the “snake” off the ground and held it up for me to see.
“This your snake?” For emphasis, he shook the black water hose. “Looks vicious. Wonder what kind it is.”
“It felt like one, okay? And this time of year, snakes are awful. Hate those devils,” I muttered.
“Now that our lives aren't in mortal danger, answer my first question. What are you doing out here?”
Using his knees as leverage, B pushed up and extend a firm hand down to me. With an eye roll he couldn't see, I took his hand, allowing him to pull me off the ground. “I was on my way to your old room when I heard you out here. I came by to tell you my decision on helping you.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“What's your decision, Beks? Will you help me or not?”
I slid my hands into the pockets of the dress and rocked back on my heel. “I need to know what I'm getting into first. Then, if I decide to help, I have some ground rules.”
Warmth spread along my palm and up my arm when his hand interlaced with mine. He led me to a long couch situated along the opposite side of the pool, somewhat hidden from the main house. Perfect. That way no one could stumble upon us unless they were looking for him.
For several minutes, we just sat in silence, listening to the gentle hum of the sparkling pool’s jets and animated chirps of summer bugs.
“After Caleb died, I started having these episodes of blacking out. One second I'd be fine, and then the next I'd be sweating, couldn't control my blood pressure, and my vision would go dark.” Looking away, he sighed and tightened his hold on my hand. “It’s happened enough to drive me to take some time off work to get myself better. Before I got the call about Pappy, I was already in Dallas and had started seeing a therapist in hopes they could fix me. But then came the call, and now you. I can't explain it, but I think you can help me.”
“But why me?” I asked, almost too afraid to hear his answer.
“The flashbacks, snapshots, are of us happy. Me happy.”
“We were,” I whispered. “But I still don't understand. You forgot about me, about this place, for so long. Why now? Why not go back to your fancy head doctor and move on?”
“I don't know. That's the truth. That's all I can offer you at this point. All I know is when you're around, everything feels right. My anger settles, and everything else fades in importance. Isn't that enough for now?”
Was it?
Looking up, I watched the stars before concentrating on him once more. “What would I need to do?”
“Be you, I think. Give it five days—four now—of us, of you helping me remember the pieces of my life that I can't. Then you'll go your way and I'll go mine. I have to get back to Kentucky.”