bride,” before the teacher had put a stop to things and called Caroline’s and Scott’s parents to inform them that students needed to keep their hands—and their lips—to themselves at school. When her mother asked why she’d wanted to marry Scott Sullivan, Caroline had told her that he was the only boy who wasn’t playing handball that day. After that, Rita Rodriguez, department chair for Women and Gender Studies at Wellesley College, had made her daughter promise that she would never settle for a man.
And Caroline never did again. In fact, she hadn’t so much as had a boyfriend because every guy she’d ever gone out with hadn’t felt like “the one.”
So, while she couldn’t remember a thing about the handsomely rugged cowboy before her, Caroline had every confidence that she belonged with him. Unlike her recess-length courtship with the first available kindergartner, there was a powerful emotional connection between Caroline and Craig. Because of her absent memory, she didn’t understand it right that second but she felt it deep in her core. In twenty-three years, her instincts had never led her astray, and even her normally evidence-based mother had to admit that when Caroline felt something, she really felt it. In fact, after her college graduation, Caroline’s father had given her a framed quote by Charles Dickens that read “A loving heart is the truest wisdom.”
Her mother hated that quote.
Luckily, her parents were currently in India, her mom conducting research on the history and success of matriarchal tribes as her father compiled literary works by the lesser-known authors of the British colonies. Which meant they were too far away to question her every decision.
“How’s everyone feeling in here?” Dr. Robinson asked, sliding back the partition.
Craig immediately stood up, because, of course, he would. As if Caroline would ever pick a guy who wasn’t a complete gentleman at all times. However, his current white-knuckle grip on the bedside rail suggested his good manners were also helping to mask his discomfort and the nervous way his eyes were looking everywhere but at her.
“I’m still a little fuzzy on some things,” Caroline replied before reaching out the hand not connected to the oxygen wires and placing it over Craig’s. His fingers were warm, his skin slightly rough and very bronzed—probably from working outside or wherever it was that he worked. Caroline would worry about remembering those kinds of details later. She didn’t want to make her fiancé feel awkward or unimportant. That was why her smile wasn’t forced when she added, “But I’m content and comfortable for now.”
Dr. Robinson nodded before looking away, lines scrunching across her otherwise smooth brow. Caroline followed the woman’s gaze in time to see Craig give a brief shake of his head.
They were obviously referring to the fact that she hadn’t fully regained her memory and Caroline wanted to kick her feet in frustration like a petulant child. But her legs were tucked in under a weight of blankets, reminding her of the utter lack of power she had over both her mind and body. “So when can I go home?”
“Well, the radiology tech is on his way now. After the CT scan, we’d like you to stay the night so we can keep an eye on your concussion. As long as all the tests come back negative, I don’t see any reason why you couldn’t go home tomorrow.”
Caroline didn’t even realize she was now clutching Craig’s hand until his fingers slid through hers and squeezed with reassurance. “I’ve never stayed the night in a hospital before.”
“Nothing to worry about.” Dr. Robinson tsk-tsked, reminding Caroline of her Nan, who made that sound anytime she thought her granddaughter was too skinny and not eating enough. The physician nodded toward Craig. “And your man here said he plans to stay the night with you. So between him and all our nurses, you’ll never be alone.”
“You’re going to stay?” Caroline smiled at Craig and his eyes seemed to turn a darker shade of blue.
He cleared his throat and focused on the blood pressure machine beeping behind her. “Um, if that would make you feel more comfortable. Sure.”
If she had the full use of her faculties, Caroline would probably be able to better guess at what the man was thinking. However, she had absolutely no clue what her fiancé’s normal response would be in a situation like this. Did he really want to stay? Or was he just being polite? Judging by the forced expression on his face, Caroline would assume the latter. But before she could let him off the hook, the tech showed up to take her for the CT scan.
As the hospital employee maneuvered her hospital bed through the corridors, Craig walked beside Caroline, her bright pink tote bag looped over one of his broad shoulders. She recognized the purse as the one she’d picked out this morning to go with her new heels and had to swallow a giggle at how much it clashed with his red plaid shirt.
But when it got caught in the elevator door behind him, Caroline could no longer hold in her laughter. “Do you always carry my purse for me?”
He gave a slight grunt, then hefted it higher onto his shoulder. “It was either this or leave it behind in the exam room where anyone could walk by and steal it.”
After the radiology tech helped her transfer off the bed and onto the cold platform for her scan, he asked her a series of questions, like whether she was wearing any jewelry or had any metal implants anywhere in her body. Then the tech asked the one question that really threw her. “Any possibility that you’re pregnant?”
Caroline’s lungs seized and her mouth froze into a circle, unsure of what the answer was. Surely she would remember something like that, wouldn’t she? She was only twenty-three years old and had been waiting to have sex until she’d found “the one,” which she’d obviously found. She turned pleading eyes to Craig, hating that she couldn’t even recall if they’d had intercourse before, let alone whether they’d used any form of birth control. “Have we... I mean is there...?”
She couldn’t finish the embarrassing question with the radiology guy looking on, his clipboard not even raised high enough to cover his curious smirk.
A rosy shade of pink stole along Craig’s hardened jawline and his eyes went wide, probably as he realized that he was the only person in the room who could possibly answer such an intimate thing.
“Uh...” His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally cleared his throat. “I think they did a blood test in the ER before the MRI. Maybe it says in her chart or something?”
“Let me take a look,” the tech said before flipping a few pages. Caroline wanted to yell at the man for not bothering to check her file first. But she was too busy forcing her muscles to relax against the narrow sheet-covered table underneath her. “Nope, no baby on board. We’re good to go.”
Caroline almost sighed out loud as the air finally left her chest in a whoosh. Not because she didn’t want to have a baby—she most definitely wanted to be a mother someday. She just wanted to fully remember the man who could possibly be the father of her child. Unfortunately, the more she tried to drag the information from her brain, the more her head pounded.
The tech raised and lowered the table and gave her some final instructions about remaining still. At some point, the room went darker, but Caroline’s breathing remained ragged and her thoughts kept spinning.
While knowing that she wasn’t pregnant gave her one less thing to worry about in the overall scheme of things, it didn’t stop her from craving more details about the man she was planning to marry. And what their current physical relationship was like.
Watching
