The Princess Has Amnesia!. Patricia Thayer
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“You all set now?” he asked as he returned to his seat.
“Yes, thank you,” she answered. After taking a bite, she savored the taste. She’d probably had better, but nothing more appreciated. “As I was saying…I don’t recognize anything.”
“Well, when you’re feeling better, I’ll introduce you around,” he said with a cocky smile, then added, “sugar.”
“I insist you stop calling me by that ridiculous name.”
“You’re insisting?”
Ana hated that flash of arrogance in his midnight eyes. She didn’t like being teased, never did. Another flicker of memory. Well, she wasn’t about to tell him that so she concentrated on eating her stew. But there was another pressing matter that she did have to talk with him about. She needed to use the facilities. She looked around the room wondering if it was through the bedroom.
“What do you need?” he asked her.
“Nothing.” She turned back to her food, but the need wouldn’t go away, it only intensified. She stood. “Would you please direct me to the facilities?”
“Sure, but I’m going to have to go with you.”
“I beg your pardon. I assure you Mr. Sanderstone, I’m capable of taking care of the situation quite nicely, thank you.”
“The name’s Jake. And I think this time, especially in your condition, you need my help.”
“You’ve helped quite enough. Now I want you to show me where to go.”
His smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “It would be my pleasure.” He pointed to the door. “It’s outside to the left about thirty yards from the cabin.”
Ana bit back a groan, but wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distaste. He went to the door ahead of her and helped her into rain gear and boots. He opened the door and walked her to the edge of the porch. He turned serious. “Sure you don’t need my help, sugar?”
Her temper flared again. “Look…Yank. I told you, I can handle this.”
She got the satisfaction of seeing his irritation before she stepped off the porch. The cold rain washed over her face and made her shiver. She moved slowly, but she would die before she let Jake Sanderstone know just how much she really needed him.
Just before dawn the next morning, Jake was stretched out on the couch, listening to the crackling of the fire. Ana had gone to sleep in the bed. He’d checked on her off and on during the night. She was much better. Enough so he felt he could leave her for a while.
After hours of deliberating, he’d come to the conclusion that he had to return to the crash site. There were two bodies up there exposed to animals and the elements, and he needed to bury them.
There also might be a chance that the plane’s radio still worked. A slim one, but it would be great if he could at least get word out about the crash and the lone survivor. Not that there was any chance that a rescue team would get here until the storm passed and that could be days away. But he had to try.
And it wouldn’t hurt to find out about the woman he’d brought into his home. Maybe he could find some information on her in the meantime. At least she would have a name and maybe that would help trigger her memory.
He threw back his blanket and stood. He grabbed his dried pants from the hearth and put them on, next came his shirt and a sweater. He went to the sink and pumped water and splashed some on his face. The cold made him shiver. Well, if that didn’t wake him nothing would. Not wanting to waste any time, he’d eat breakfast on the trail and reached in the cupboard for some jerky.
He grabbed his jacket then rubbed Max’s fur “Come on, boy, I have a job for you,” he whispered and led him into the bedroom.
He stood next to the bed. Ana was asleep on her side, her hair nearly covering her face. He brushed the strands away and she moaned and rolled over on her back. She blinked at him, then opened her eyes.
“You again,” she groaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of disturbing my sleep? Fine, do what you have to do.”
Jake closed his eyes a moment and tried to erase the dangerous thoughts in his head. “I wanted you to know that I’ll be gone for a few hours. Max will be here for you. So you’ll be safe. There’s plenty of wood for the fire. It’s best if you stay in bed.” And out of trouble, he finished to himself.
All he got from her was the soft sound of her even breathing. She was great for the male ego, he thought ironically. Well, when he got back he would know who she was, and with any luck, she’d be gone soon. He put on his rain gear, walked out the door, locked it, then grabbed the shovel from the side of the cabin and headed toward the ridge. In a few days he’d be all alone again.
And that’s just the way he liked it.
Chapter Three
The trip took him nearly thirty minutes, but Jake made the climb over the ridge without much problem. The rain had finally slowed, and he hoped it would stay that way until he finished his task.
When he reached the edge of the ravine, he paused, amazed at the destruction. Entire rows of trees had been bent or broken off by the force of the jet, but in the end, the mountain won out.
His gaze lowered to the yards and yards of debris scattered along the ground. He walked past what was left of the tail, then to the plane’s fuselage, and the twisted metal was all that was left of the wings. They’d been stripped away as if the plane were a toy. Only the midsection remained intact and that was where Ana had been seated. Jake glanced inside and saw the cushions that she’d placed around her; the padding must have saved her in the crash.
He quickly moved on. A job needed to be done before he could look for any clues about his guest. It could be days before anyone arrived to investigate the accident. Jake had to be careful not to disturb too much, but he couldn’t just leave the bodies unprotected, either. He walked about twenty yards up the slope to a pine tree, removed his backpack and picked up the shovel.
About an hour later, he’d finished his digging. Ignoring his fatigue, he returned to the plane and removed the first body from the cockpit. He took the man’s ID from his pocket. In bold black letters it proclaimed him to be, Rory Hearne, Penwyck security, top priority clearance.
“Rory,” he said the name aloud. “So you’re the one she called out for in the night.” Jake experienced a tightening in his gut that felt suspiciously like jealousy. That was crazy. He didn’t even know the woman. Why would he care if she and this Rory were lovers?
Jake lifted the other man from his seat and retrieved his ID. He found a pilot’s license for Stephen Loden also from Penwyck. That wouldn’t be out of the ordinary since the small island of Penwyck wasn’t too far off the coast of Wales.
After tucking Rory’s gun into his belt and the wallets into his jacket pocket, he started to lift the pilot and noticed a small tattoo through the tear in his shirt. A small, black sword. Where had he seen that tattoo before? During his years with the bureau, Jake had accumulated a lot of miscellaneous information, read over hundreds of advisory reports.