Chapter Fourteen – Jay
Jay blinked, his brow furrowed, momentarily disoriented as he opened his eyes. The light coming in through the window was soft and muted. Not the artificial glare of the hospital lights. Where was he?
He gripped the edge of the bed, muscles tense as his fight or flight mode kicked in.
But then somewhere close by a horse neighed. As if in reply the rooster crowed, heralding a new day. He knew exactly where he was.
The Thornberg Ranch.
The place he’d grown up in. His home. A place he should know like the back of his hand. Yet it felt like a stranger’s house. Familiar yet foreign. Like a dream half-remembered.
Or a half-remembered memory, his bear said.
Jay sat up, running his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair, trying to grasp at the wisps of memory just beyond his reach. I think I dreamed about the ranch. I just don’t know if it was made up or real.
One day we will know, his bear said with confidence.
And today might be that day. Despite the strangeness of everything around him, he felt a renewed sense of resolve. Because today I’m getting on with my life…or at least trying to. And there’s a chance that something might jog my memory. And if it doesn’t, then I guess we’ll simply have to build a new life.
With our mate, his bear said.
Our mate, Jay repeated, his fingers on his lips as he remembered the kiss he’d pressed to her cheek.
You’d better get up and get your chores done, his bear said. Then we can head over to the cabin and make a start on the place.
A fresh start, his bear said, the low rumble of approval echoing in Jay’s mind.
Yeah, Jay answered. Let’s hope I can still remember how to do this rancher thing.
How hard can it be? his bear asked.
Jay chuckled. That depends on how much I remember about riding a horse or herding cattle.
I guess this could be an interesting day, his bear said as he settled back down to sleep.
Interesting indeed. Jay swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking a moment to rub the lingering sleep from his eyes. Especially since we’ll be seeing Tessa and Alison later.
I can’t wait, his bear said. Now, get moving!
Outside the window, the ranch was already stirring to life. And he needed to do the same.
Jay couldn’t wait to get out there. To feel the wind in his face and the solid strength of a horse beneath him.
Perhaps a ride on Hero might help unlock his memory.
The more time he spent back here on the ranch, the more he realized how much he loved it. The animals, the panoramic views of the forests, and distant peaks. It was in his blood.
He went to the closet and opened the doors. Inside were his clothes. Clothes he’d worn before. He knew because his mom had told him she’d left his room exactly as it was the day he’d left. Nothing had changed.
Except him.
Jay ran his fingers over the clean flannel shirts, and the worn jeans hanging neatly in the closet as if he’d never been away. Each item was a link to his past.
So what should he choose? He selected a faded blue shirt that felt softer than the others. It somehow felt right in his hands although he had no explanation as to why.
As he dressed, his gaze caught on a photograph tucked into the corner of the mirror. A younger version of himself, arm slung around Klein’s shoulders as he stood with the rest of his brothers, they were all grinning. But he didn’t know why.
An ache of almost recognition tightened in his chest.
“Morning,” came a voice from the doorway. He’d been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t heard his mom approaching. Now she stood in the doorway, a steaming mug in hand, her eyes filled with a hope she couldn’t quite disguise. “Thought you might need this before heading out.”
I think she was hoping we might have woken up with a headful of memories, his bear murmured.
Then she’s in for disappointment, Jay replied. Or should I say more disappointment?
“Thanks,” Jay said, accepting the coffee. The warmth of the mug steadied him. “I’m ready to get started.”
She nodded, her gaze drifting over him as she took in his shirt and worn jeans that fit like a second skin. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Those always were your favorite.”
“They were?” he asked, and her smile faltered as the realization that he had not had some magical recovery overnight hit her.
“Come on down when you are ready. You need something to eat before you head out.” She sighed heavily and turned and walked out of the room.
I don’t think I can wake up each morning to that look. Jay took a sip of his coffee.
Which one, the look of hope or the look of disappointment? his bear asked.
Neither, Jay replied. But damn the coffee was good.
You don’t even remember the coffee? his bear asked.
No. Jay went to the window and looked out. Perhaps he was simply putting off going downstairs. Or perhaps he was hoping that this view of the ranch, one he must have looked out on a thousand times or more might jog something loose. So that when he finally did go downstairs, he’d be able to give his mom the news she wanted.
The view was achingly beautiful with rolling pastures dotted with grazing cattle, and the distant line of pines edging the horizon, with mountains rising beyond. But nothing came.
Jay drained the last of his coffee, squared his shoulders, and headed downstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath his feet, each sound like a voice trying to speak to him from the past. But they were speaking in a language he could not understand.
He paused at the bottom, catching the low murmur of conversation from the kitchen.
“...just needs time, Mary,” Waylan whispered. “You know the doc said pushing won’t help.”
“I know, I know.” His mother’s voice cracked slightly. “But seeing him in that shirt, looking just like he did before...”
Jay cleared his throat as he entered the kitchen, not wanting to eavesdrop further. The conversation halted immediately, and when he entered the kitchen, Waylan stood by the stove, flipping bacon, while Mary arranged slices of toast and jam on a plate.
“Come and sit down,” Mary said lightly but her tone held an undercurrent of emotion she tried to hide. “You sleep okay?”
“I did,” he replied. “Breakfast smells good.” Jay managed a small smile as he settled into a chair, feeling awkward. He knew they wanted him here. Yet he also knew his presence was a constant reminder of all that had happened.
It’ll get better, his bear said. It’s just going to take a period of readjustment. For everyone.
“I’ll get you a refill.” Mary grabbed his empty coffee cup and hurried to the coffee pot.
“Eggs and bacon?” Waylan asked as he took the pan off the stove.
“Yes, please.” Jay’s mouth watered at the savory aroma of the food. At least his taste for ranch breakfasts hadn’t disappeared with his memories.
“Here we go.” Mary poured coffee into the mug and passed it to him, her smile a little less forced.
“Thank you,” he murmured as he picked up the cup and took a sip.
“So,” Waylan said, sliding a plate heaped with bacon and eggs in front of Jay, “Dougray wondered if you wanted to check the fences today. Thought that might be a good place to start. You know, help you get your bearings.”
Jay nodded, grateful for the plan. “That works for me. I, uh…I’m not sure how much I remember about the actual work.”
“Like riding a bike,” Waylan said with forced confidence, though his eyes betrayed concern. “Or a horse… Your body remembers even if your mind doesn’t.”
I hope he’s right, Jay thought as he forked a bite of eggs into his mouth.
We’ll find out soon enough, his bear replied. Otherwise, your ego isn’t the only thing that’s gonna get bruised.
Glad you find it so amusing, Jay countered.
Oh, I do, his bear chuckled.
As Mary and Waylan sat down to breakfast, silence hung in the air. It was almost comfortable, but Jay could still sense the unspoken questions that lay between them. The things unsaid.
“I was thinking…” Jay began as he ate. “That I might move into the cabin.”
“We talked about that last night.” Mary cast him a worried look.
“We talked about me renovating the place. But I thought I might move in while I do the work.” Jay focused on his plate, but he could feel Mary and Waylan’s eyes on him.
“But the place is a wreck,” Mary protested.
“I just think…I need some space to process everything,” Jay said as he looked up. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is,” Waylan answered, though a hint of worry flickered across his features. “We just want you to be comfortable.”
Mary’s gaze flicked between them. “Whatever makes you happy. It means a lot to me, to us, that you’re staying on the ranch,” she admitted, her voice wavering slightly. “You’re our son, Jay. We’ve missed you.”
A pang of guilt twisted in Jay’s gut. All he could see in Mary’s eyes was how much he had hurt her already, and now he was doing it again.
That is not our intention, his bear reminded him.
It doesn’t make the hurt any less, Jay replied.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, not knowing what else to say.
Mary reached out, laying a hand over his. “Don’t be. We’re just glad you’re here now.”
Jay offered a tight smile, nodding. “I’m glad, too.” And that was the truth. He might not know what had driven him to leave, but he was glad to be back here.
Because we know it’s where we belong, his bear said.
Jay forced himself to finish the rest of his breakfast as the conversation shifted to more practical ranch matters. Like the weather and the price of hay.
Once breakfast was done, Jay collected his plate and rinsed it, ignoring Mary’s mild protest that she could handle it. He needed to feel useful. Then, with a quick word of thanks, he slipped out into the bright morning sunshine.
The air was so clear up here and he sucked in a deep breath before exhaling slowly.
“Leave some for the rest of us,” Dougray said as he sauntered over to Jay.
“Morning,” Jay said, offering a small smile to his brother.
Dougray studied him for a moment, his eyes searching Jay’s face. But for what, Jay could not tell and he was not going to waste time trying to figure it out. It was mentally tiring. “You ready to ride the fence line?”
“I am,” Jay said with a nod.
“Good.” Dougray gave a brief nod. “Hero will show you the way. He’s waiting for you in the stables. You do remember how to tack him up?”
“I do,” Jay said, hoping more than knowing that was true.
“Then I’ll leave you to it,” Dougray said. “But if you need anything, holler.”
“Will do,” Jay said with a nod.
“One more thing,” Dougray said as he walked away.
“Yeah?” Jay asked.
“You’ll find your hat hanging up in the tack room, right where you left it.” Dougray’s eyes narrowed as he studied Jay again. “You’d better check it for spiders.”
“Will do,” Jay said, not sure if his brother was joking. “Oh, hey. I wanted to ask you something.”
Dougray turned and faced Jay, his thumbs in his belt. “Ask away.”
“Finlay and Mila…” Jay began.
“Uh huh,” Dougray said not giving anything away.
“I wondered if I could…” He raked his hand through his hair. “I feel like I should thank them for saving my life.”
“You probably should,” Dougray agreed.
Jay stood there and nodded, not knowing what else to say.
“I’ll talk to Klein, and we can figure a time for you all to get together. Okay?” Dougray asked.
“I’d be grateful,” Jay replied.
“But they don’t know anything,” Dougray said. “I’ve talked to Finlay about it and all he knows is he heard the faint sound of you crying for help.”
“I was?” Jay asked.
“You don’t remember any of it?” Dougray asked.
“Not a thing,” Jay admitted.
“Well, I’ll arrange something but don’t hold your hopes out that they’ll have any answers for you,” Dougray finished with a sigh. “Now go find that hat before the sun bakes your brain even more than it already is.”
“Didn’t you sense me?” Jay asked abruptly, aware his tone sounded accusing.
“Sense you?” Dougray asked.
“Yeah, I mean Henry showed me where I was found and it’s close to where you live…” Jay’s voice faltered.
“No,” Dougray replied. “I mean you were a long way from Gavin’s place. And you have been away for so long… But I’m sure if you had been closer, I would have.”
He’d forgotten us, Jay said to his bear.
No, not forgotten, his bear said. They just weren’t expecting us.
“Got it. Thanks. I’ll go look for my hat.” Jay turned on his heel and strode to the stables, letting his feet lead him to the tack room. Maybe that was the key to finding his way around the ranch. Disengage his brain and let his feet do the walking.
Actually, disengaging his brain would help in a lot of ways.
But before he reached the tack room, a soft whinny greeted him. “Hero.” Jay forgot about his hat and instead went to say hello to his horse.
Hero’s ears pricked forward at the sight of Jay, and he nickered softly, stretching his neck over the stall door. Without thinking, Jay reached out, his hand instinctively finding the exact spot beneath the horse’s forelock that made Hero lean into his touch.
“I remember you,” he whispered, the words catching in his throat. Nothing specific. It was more of a feeling of connection. A shared trust between man and horse. His fingers traced the white blaze running down Hero’s face. “At least a little bit.”
Small baby steps, his bear reminded him.
If they get any smaller, we won’t be moving at all, Jay replied, but he took comfort in this tiny fragment of recognition.
“Let’s get you saddled up,” he murmured to Hero, who bobbed his head as if in agreement.
Jay made his way to the tack room, pausing at the entrance. The familiar scent of leather and saddle soap enveloped him. His eyes scanned the walls, taking in the bridles hanging from hooks, saddles resting on stands, and various tools of ranch life scattered about. In the corner, just as Dougray had said, hung a weathered brown Stetson.
His hat.
Jay approached it slowly, reaching up to touch the brim. Dust had settled on it, a reminder of the years it had hung there waiting for him. He lifted it carefully and gave the hat a good shake. To his relief, no eight-legged squatters emerged. He blew off the remaining dust and settled it on his head. The fit was perfect, as if it had been molded specifically for him over years of wear.
It has, his bear said.
Jay ran his fingers along the brim. Then he turned his attention to the saddles. “Hero.” He grabbed Hero’s saddle and bridle and some brushes and headed back to the stable.
A few minutes later, Hero was brushed and ready for his saddle. “We’d better get this right, boy,” Jay told the black horse.
Hero swung his head around and contemplated this as Jay lifted the saddle and placed it on his back. Hero stood patiently as Jay adjusted the saddle and checked the girth. It all felt familiar, and the motions came naturally as he cinched the straps and adjusted the stirrups to the right length. The same for the bridle and Hero ducked his head into the headstall like he’d done it a thousand times, accepting the bit without protest.
“You remember me better than I remember myself,” Jay murmured, patting the horse’s neck.
Hero nickered softly in response, shifting his weight from one hoof to another, eager to get going.
“All right, let’s see if I can remember how to get on,” Jay said, leading Hero out of the stall and into the bright morning light. “I will never live it down if I end up facing your tail.” Hero gave him a nudge as if in agreement. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
Here goes nothing . He placed his foot in the stirrup and swung himself up into the saddle with a fluid motion that surprised him. It felt natural, and that thought brought a tiny rush of relief. Perhaps muscle memory did survive whatever amnesia plagued him. With renewed confidence, he urged Hero forward into a steady walk.
The more time Jay spent in the saddle, the more natural it felt. But although his muscles had kept their memory, they soon started to complain as he spent the better part of the morning in the saddle. But Jay pushed on through it, checking fences, stopping now and then to hammer in a loose nail or tighten a sagging wire.
He enjoyed the repetitive work, which allowed his mind to roam freely. Although it often circled back to Alison. What was she doing right now? On shift, most likely. He found himself wishing she were here with him.
Soon, his bear said. And if you ever you find the courage to tell her about what she is to us, we could be together every day.
Jay pressed his lips together, pushing down the pang of longing in his chest. I know.
And he did know, but that did not make things any easier.
“Come on, Hero.” He turned his horse’s head toward home. “Our work here is done.”
But he had a lot more work ahead of him if he was ever going to make a life for himself and his mate, and Tessa.