Page 19 of In Bed with the Rancher

That night, after a big dinner of baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, home-grown okra and tomatoes, they sat in the family room and talked until about eight o’clock, when Ava said they should go. She felt they had imposed on her neighbors’ hospitality long enough.

After goodbyes, Gerald drove them home.

As soon as they watched him drive away and they had stepped inside and locked up, her guest turned to Ava. “Once again, they’re very good neighbors.”

“They really are. The kids are cute and polite and fun. I love having them for my neighbors.”

“I asked Gerald if he ever sold any of his horses and he said yes. I told him if it turns out I’m a rancher, I’m coming back to buy a horse. I may not have memories of living on a ranch, but I know he has some fine horses.”

“He does. I think you are definitely a rancher. Everything points to that.”

She studied the stranger who was becoming less and less a stranger to her, but she still couldn’t think of him as Bill Smith. Somehow, the name didn’t fit. She saw he was looking at her and wondered what he was thinking.

“They asked us to stay at their house tonight,” she told him. “I didn’t agree because Molly has worked all day to have us there, cooking breakfast, lunch and dinner for us, entertaining us. I felt we needed to give her a chance to catch her breath. That’s why we’re here.”

And her first thought since she’d entered the house was they had another night to spend under the same roof.

The second was wondering if he would kiss her again.

* * *

Ava watched Gerald’s pickup stop by the gate and her houseguest stepped out and talked to Gerald for a minute, then closed the truck’s passenger door and headed toward the house. They had gotten through yesterday without a kiss, mainly because Gerald had come by to pick him up and take him back to Roan Ranch. Gerald thought if Bill Smith spent the day following Gerald around as he worked on the ranch, it might jog Bill’s memory. Molly had said it wouldn’t hurt to try if Bill was willing. He’d been very willing, so he’d left early and then stayed at the Roans’ ranch last night because the rain had ended. Today they’d hoped to get across the creek and go to Persimmon to see the sheriff. Today was the first day Gerald could get through to the sheriff and he made an appointment for Bill and let the sheriff know briefly about Bill. Now she was eager to hear if there had been any announcements regarding a missing man.

With a sack in his hand, Bill Smith came up the porch steps two at a time. Her pulse jumped when she saw the unusual expression on his face. “What is it?”

“Come on, we can talk inside,” he said, taking her wrist and leading her in.

The minute they stepped into her entryway, he turned to take her into his arms.

“There’s only one thing I could think about all the way back here.” As his mouth covered hers and he leaned over her, she pressed against him. His body was warm, all hard muscles and flat planes, and he felt perfect. While his strong arms held her, her heart raced. She clung to him tightly and kissed him in return, then stopped worrying about what she should or should not be doing.

At some point, he leaned away slightly and looked down.

“That kiss was the most important thing on my mind.” Finally, he released her. “The next most important—I know who I am.”

Five

“Sort of,” he added.

She tilted her head to study him and frowned. “What do you mean by ‘sort of’?”

“I have a name, but it means no more to me than Bill Smith. There’s more news—we still can’t get to the Interstate or much beyond Persimmon because part of the bridge was damaged by a tree floating down Blue Creek.”

She waved away his latest words. “I don’t care about the creek. For heaven’s sake, tell me what your name is.”

“Okay, I’ll give you my name, but it’ll mean as much to you as it does to me. I still don’t have my memory, but at least the sheriff told me who I am.”

She smiled. “So who are you?”

She looked into his dark brown eyes as he watched her. “I’m Wynn Sterling from Dallas, Texas. And it doesn’t mean any more to me right now than Bill Smith, except it’s my real identity and I do have a history and a family.”

“Are you a Sterling of Sterling Energy?” she asked.

He nodded. “They said I am. That doesn’t mean anything to me, either. I don’t know Sterling Energy. But apparently I have a twin brother. His name is Wade and he was on television. That’s how they found out who I am. The sheriff said Wynn Sterling disappeared driving back to Texas from a resort in Nashville. The storms we had here have been all across the Gulf coast and some worse than what we’ve had. They think Wynn Sterling might have been swept away in the storm. They said the twin brother, Wade Sterling, cut short his fishing trip to the Gulf coast because of the storm and returned home.

“The sheriff will contact the Dallas police. Gerald said we might not hear today because it’s hard to get through on cell phones because of the poor reception out here in the boonies. Gerald and I agreed we weren’t going to hang out at the police station all day to wait to hear. If I’m going to hang out, I’d rather be with you than the sheriff.”

“That’s flattering,” she said, smiling at him. “Now you know who you are even if it doesn’t mean anything yet. You have family, and a big one—a well-known Texas family. I have heard of the Sterlings. Wynn, you’re a prominent Dallas citizen.”

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