no reason why we can’t come now and in April.”
“It’s too expensive, and I’ll spend the whole time you’re here feeling guilty.”
“Rayne—”
“I promise—if I need you guys here, I’ll let you know. But for right now, I’m fine.”
“Chance said you have partial amnesia. I don’t consider that fine.”
“There are just a few holes in my memory. The nurse said that’s common with head injuries. I’ll probably remember everything before I leave the hospital.”
Chance snorted at her optimism, but Rayne ignored him.
She loved her family, but they worried too much, jumped in to rescue her before she ever had an opportunity to rescue herself. When she’d taken custody of Emma, Rayne’s mother had offered free babysitting and had insisted on cooking meals, doing the laundry and cleaning. After Rayne broke up with Michael, Jonas and Skylar had traveled from New Mexico to Arizona and stayed with her for a week. The day she’d been held at gunpoint …
She frowned.
No need to go back there.
She’d made her decision before that, knew that she had to break away, prove herself as a mother on her own. No parents and siblings stepping in to rescue her, no fiancé telling her she wasn’t capable. Just Rayne and Emma making a wonderful life in a beautiful new town.
Anything else would mean weakness, anything else could lead to heartache.
And she didn’t want either of those things in her life.
“All right. It’s your choice, but I’m not going to say I’m happy about it. You’ll call if you need anything, right?” Jonas asked, and she forced herself to focus on the question, on the conversation.
“You know I will.”
“I’ll call Mom and Dad and let them know you’re okay, but as soon as you get a chance, give them a ring. Mom has been beside herself since she got the call saying you were in the hospital.”
“I’m really sorry I worried all of you.”
“That’s what families are for.”
“Worry?”
“Something like that. Keep safe, sis. Love you.” Jonas disconnected and Rayne handed the phone back to Chance.
“So you really think you’re going back to your normal routine tomorrow?” he asked as he shoved the phone in his pocket.
“I don’t see why not.”
“Let’s start with the fact that you’re lying in a hospital, hooked up to an IV, with a lump the size of a grapefruit on the side of your forehead.”
“Is it really that big?” She fingered the bump on her forehead, wincing as she probed the tender flesh.
“I might be exaggerating, but my point is the same. You’re not going to be doing anything but resting tomorrow.”
“Hopefully, with my memories intact.” Her words were slurred, her mind fuzzy and, for a moment, she wasn’t sure what they were talking about. Why they were discussing it.
Didn’t even know if she cared.
“You’re drifting off again, Goldilocks.”
“Just resting my eyes,” she mumbled.
“Good. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Fabric rustled, and she knew he was going to leave. Felt sure that if he did, something bad would happen. Nothing about this place was familiar, except for him. His eyes. The warmth of his hand. And she didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again without either one.
“Don’t go.” She grabbed his hand, looked into his face. Familiar and strange all at the same time.
“Okay.” He settled back into the chair. No question about why she wanted him there. No hesitation. No list of things he needed to do.
Just his presence, given without reservation.
Not something she was used to.
Not something Michael would have done.
Michael.
Funny that a stranger was willing to give more of himself than her fiancé ever had.
Or maybe not so funny.
Michael had promised her everything, but he’d given her nothing of consequence. Dinner dates were nice, phone calls on Tuesday afternoons were fine, but when push came to shove, he’d proven he couldn’t be counted on.
If you insist on playing mother to a drug addict’s baby, then we’re through. Are you willing to let that happen, Rayne? Willing to give up what we’ve spent almost three years building?
She’d been willing.
She wasn’t sure she’d been ready to be a mother, though.
Still, she didn’t regret the promise she’d made the day Chandra had given birth to the red-faced, red-haired infant.
Even then, Rayne had loved Emma. She just hadn’t realized she would be her mother.
She was, though, and she’d do whatever it took to raise her, protect her and give her the life Chandra would have wanted for her.
It was the last thought she had before darkness carried her away.
TWO
Holding hands with Rayne Sampson was not how Chance had planned to spend his evening. As a matter of fact, the only thing he’d planned on holding was the remote for the television. He’d figured he deserved a couple of hours of downtime. It had been a long day.
A long week.
A long month.
A long year.
And now he was sitting in a hospital room, holding hands with a woman he’d been trying hard to avoid for the better part of two months.
He frowned, slipping his hand from hers.
Frowned again when she didn’t move.
He touched the side of her neck the way he had when he’d found her unconscious in her crumbled car, let his fingers linger on smooth skin and steady pulse.
“Don’t worry. I haven’t died, yet,” she grumbled, and he let his hand drop away.
“Yet?”
“The way my head is pounding, I’m thinking my brain might explode.” Her eyes opened slowly. Eyes the color of Loon Lake in early spring. Misty green-blue. He’d noticed them the day they’d met. Had told himself not to, but he’d been noticing
