was wearing a jogging suit, running shoes, and his moist sun-streaked hair was held back with a sweat-band.
“Not a ghost,” she managed, leaning up against the counter to keep her weak knees from buckling.
He searched her ashen face. Who had she expected to see coming through the door? Had her memory returned? “Tell me what’s going on, Trish. I’m not used to being greeted with bone-chilling screams when I come in the door—at least, not so early in the morning,” he added, trying to lighten the situation.
She ran an agitated hand through her dark hair. “I guess I let my imagination run away with me,” she admitted, totally embarrassed by the way she had lost control. “I’m sorry. When you weren’t here, I thought you’d decided to turn me over to someone else. And that frightened me.”
Even though he knew that in her present state, she was vulnerable to distrust, it really bothered him that she thought him capable of callously tossing her out of his house. “I thought we’d agreed on how we were going to handle this thing? Didn’t we?”
His briskness told her that she had offended him, but she didn’t know how to explain that the frightening scenario had developed in her mind because of his absence. She nodded, not wanting to admit that panic had driven everything out of her mind.
“All right, then.” His tone softened. “I promise I won’t do anything without your approval.”
“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“You should be. I don’t recall that anything was said about me bringing a paddy wagon up to the back door and hauling you away,” he chided. “At least, not before breakfast.”
In his teasing smile, she saw a steady uncompromising strength that invited her to trust him. She prayed that whatever truth she discovered about herself would not destroy that trust.
“Now, sit down and finish your coffee while I whip up some French toast. Oui, Mademoiselle?”
She laughed at his corny accent, and couldn’t believe how deftly he had changed the whole timber of the day. For the first time since her rescue, her past didn’t seem as important as letting herself momentarily enjoy the present moment.
As the day progressed, there were times when she wished that he wasn’t so intent upon following up every avenue that might end the protective sanctuary that she’d found with him. Deep down, she knew that she was using him as an anchor in the morass of her unknown problems, and that it wasn’t fair to attach herself to him on any emotional level, but she couldn’t help herself.
When he brought her a list of the people who had been reported lost in the state of New Jersey since the storm, she carefully read every name of women in her age group. Saying the name aloud, she paused to see if there was any flicker of familiarity. When she’d made it through the list, her lips trembled as she handed it back to him.
“If my name is there, I don’t recognize it.”
“It’s okay. There are other lists,” he reassured her, even as he hoped that they wouldn’t have to go through the missing persons records for every state in the union. She could have come to New Jersey from anywhere and for a thousand different reasons. “I’ll get a similar list from New York City and Long Island.”
When he gave them to her, Trish was appalled at the hundreds of names of people reported missing in only a three-day period. Once again, she tried to connect any kind of memory with each of the possible names, but with the same result.
“Nothing. I guess this isn’t going to work,” she said, holding back a wash of despair.
He was silent for a moment. “Of course, the best way to handle this might be to come at it from a different way,” he said thoughtfully. “We could pass out flyers with your description and picture and see if—”
“No!” she protested vehemently. “I have to know who I am first. Don’t you understand?”
“I’m not sure I do,” he said quietly. She was suddenly like a wild creature backed into a corner. “I would think that you’d want to use any means you could to find out who you are.”
She searched for words that would help him understand. Drawing a shaky breath, she tried to explain. “There is some deep terror buried within me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m afraid that whatever happened to me before is out there waiting to happen again. I have to find out who I am before I’ll feel safe.”
“You think someone is waiting to do you harm?”
“I don’t know what I think. I just know that I don’t want to put out my picture all over the place. Not yet. Not until I have a chance to discover my identity.” She sighed. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just paranoid because I can’t remember what happened to me.”
“I don’t think paranoid is a characteristic of amnesia,” he admitted. “There must be something more there, and I don’t think we should do anything that doesn’t sit well with you. At least for the time beginning, let’s concentrate on coaxing your memory back. Okay?”
She gave him a relieved smile. “What do you suggest we do next?”
“How about a walk down to the beach?” he suggested casually as if it was just a pleasant idea. He watched myriad emotions cross her face as fright, refusal and then determination gave way to a stubborn lift of her chin.
“All right. I suppose that’s a good place to start.”
He admired the way she was fighting the demons in her mind. “If things get too tense for you, just say so, and we’ll leave it for another day.”
As they stepped out on the deck, Trish felt a rush of adrenaline that was like a charged current surging through her. She stiffened her resolve not to be defeated by emotions warring within her. If she could just make it down to the place where Andrew had found her, everything might come rushing back. Maybe the blocks in her mind would fall away and she would see what was hidden from her. She swallowed back her fear and stiffened her resolve to accept anything that her memory threw back at her. Anything.
“You, okay?” he asked as she stiffly walked beside him. When he reached out and took her hand, he was surprised how clammy it felt. She looked like someone walking to her execution. With a start, he realized the strength of will she was displaying in leaving the house and exposing herself to whatever upheaval might be waiting for her. “It’s going to be all right. Don’t be frightened.”
“I’m not,” she lied.
He tried to get her mind off the purpose for their walk. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said without looking at it.
“Why don’t we take a little walk in the other direction before we circle the cove?”
She hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. The reprieve, even for a few moments, was a welcome blessing.
They crossed a wide strip of sandy ground dotted with wild grass, sand, rocks and driftwood, and carefully made their way down to the beach. As they walked along the edge of the water, seagulls darted overhead, keeping up a cacophony of raucous noise. The ocean simmered in the bright light of the sun, and a light breeze ruffled the water, sending
