Chapter 5
Chapter Five
SIERRA
I have a name. They say it’s mine, but it’s not familiar.
Sierra Owens. Thanks to fingerprints.
I look at my open hand. Why are my fingerprints on file?
“Sierra.” It’s a male voice that snaps me to attention.
Not because it’s my name, but because I’m the only one in the room. My gaze follows the sound.
A stern looking fire-plug-shaped man is standing in the entrance of my hospital room. He’s in a crisp uniform. The lines of his face are deep. He looks unhappy.
“Yes. I think I’m Sierra.”
Grumpy seems to be a theme today. I can relate. If his wrinkles are any sign, he’s like that a lot.
He strides into the room. “I know you are because I’m your commanding officer, Colonel Payne.”
For a beat I wonder if I’m dreaming.
After unclenching my molars, I try to get to the root of this grumpy visit. “Why do I have a commanding officer?”
“You’re one of mine.”
I blink. I’ll admit, that’s not what I expected.
His hard eyes pierce me. “You’re in the Air Force.”
“Uh.” I glance around. “Are you sure?”
He gives a very crisp, single nod.
I feel like a balloon that’s been set adrift. This is the first attempt by someone to grab the string to pull me back to Earth. I hinge forward. “Oh my god. Can you tell me anything else?”
Colonel Payne watches me from below his bushy black eyebrows. They have a deep line between them. Permanent scowl indicator.
I search for anything familiar in his face and come up empty.
But then he surprises me. Something almost fatherly passes through his gaze for a few seconds.
“Look, Sierra,” he sighs, “I know this is a lot to take in at once. The police are looking into your accident.”
A quiver forms in my stomach. I lick my dry lips. “Have they found anything?”
“Nothing yet.”
My excitement evaporates. I hit a new low. “Now what do I do?”
He drops a hand on the footboard of the bed and looks around. “You go home with your fiancé and rest. God knows it beats this place.”
I turn to solid ice. Fiancé?
There’s a gasp by the door. “Colonel!”
My nurse storms into the room. Anne’s face is a mask of fury. “Colonel Payne.” She glares at him. “That’s not what we agreed.”
“What?” My eyes bounce between them.
He lifts a brow, but doesn’t turn.
She drops her hands on her hips and gives him an even more withering look. “You’re upsetting my patient. We were going to let him tell her…”
I shake my head. This isn’t really happening.
Payne holds up a hand. “I thought she needs to know she’s engaged. That’s pretty important.”
My mouth is hanging open. I wheeze out two words. “I’m what?”
“Easy, Sierra.” Anne moves closer to the bed.
My pulse is racing. I clutch at my chest and practically shout, “Fiancés know each other’s names!”
They both look very concerned now.
Colonel Payne tips his head. “Master Sergeant Strong.”
“Wh-who?”
As if Colonel Payne hasn’t just delivered a crushing blow, he casually smiles. “Strong is your fiancé.”
I snort out a laugh. Because clearly this is all a weird dream.
Neither of them as much as cracks a smile.
Anne makes the first awkward face. “Sierra, I’m sorry you got shocked. But it’s true.”
There’s a serious risk that smoke might come out of my ears. I wrap both my hands around my face. “I can’t have a fiancé.”
In an about face, Colonel Payne looks almost cheery. “Yes, you do. Master Sergeant Strong.”
I can’t breathe well, but I sure can talk. “How can I not remember I’m engaged? If I am…. surely we had sex. I’d remember that.” Heat erupts on my cheeks.
I motion wildly in the air. “If we are engaged, we had to say, I love you. I’d remember that too.”
My gaze rockets to my ring finger. My tone rises to a crazed cackle. “What about a ring? You can’t even tell I wore one!”
Payne taps the footboard with his fist. “You’ll know everything soon.”
Damn right I will. One way or another. Even if I have to run up and down the halls screaming.
I glare at them. When I finally get myself under control, I smooth my sea-creature hair with a shaking hand and inform them of my feelings. “I’m not sure I’m engaged.”
Both of them continue to look at me. Anne bites the corner of her lip.
Shit. I implore her with my eyes to tell me this is all a made-up story.
“Anne, help me.” I plead.
“It’s true.”
My brain officially breaks. I go instantly cold.
I whisper, “Leave. I need to be alone.”
Payne’s jaw tightens. “I know this has to be hard. You’re going to be on convalescent leave until this is sorted.”
Like I care. I have a bigger problem. I’m going home with a stranger that I said yes to at some distant point in the past.
Not that everyone isn’t a stranger at this point. But I’m engaged to one.
Yikes.
The man passes me a small brown paper bag that I didn’t notice he had. “Slaughter sent you a couple of things. He heard your clothes got destroyed.”
I sit up. A bit of surprise flutters through my shocked state. “That was nice, thank you.”
Anne moves to the side of the bed. “That was thoughtful. I was going to give you some scrubs so you didn’t have to leave in one of these awful gowns.”
I peek in the bag. It holds two neatly folded items. I tuck it against myself and say, “Thank god. At least one thing is going well. The rest of my life seems to be in a blender.”
After an exchanged look with Anne, the Colonel takes a step toward the door. “Sierra, I’ll be waiting for word of your full recovery.”
Then he’s gone.
I groan and Anne pats my shoulder. “I have more news.”
“Shoot me now.”
She pats some more. “I hate to tell you this, but your fiancé has already arrived. He’s in the office down the hall meeting with the doctor.”
I fly out of the bed. Stumbling over the tray-table as I go. It clatters loudly.
She jolts back. “You can’t be jumping around like that. You have a concussion.”
“I just had a heart attack too.” I clutch the paper bag tighter with clammy hands.
“Easy.” She pries the bag away. “Let’s take one thing at a time.”
I’m in total freakout mode. “He’s here?”
“Yep. He’s fine looking, I might add.”
I struggle to inhale. But when I exhale, a rush of words come with it.
“My hair! Oh my god. I couldn’t get the tangles out. I have to get dressed.” I spin in a frantic circle.
“Whoa.” Anne grabs my arms. “That’s why I’m here. We’re going to brush your hair and get you ready.”
She guides me to the chair. As she starts to drag the hairbrush through my tangles, I pepper her with questions as I stare at my ring finger. “Wouldn’t I have a mark on my ring finger?”
She lifts a clump of hair and gets to work on the end. “Not everyone wears a ring. A lot of nurses for example.”
“What if he’s weird?”
There’s a soft chuckle behind me. “I’m not laughing at you, dear. I’m just imaging all the fun you could have meeting your fiancé and falling in love again.”
I make a gagging sound. “I’m too nervous.”
“It’s all going to be fine.” She keeps brushing until all the tangles are gone.
“Thanks, Anne. I bet you’re a mom.”
“Two daughters. They might meet ‘The One’ some day. I sure hope so. I’d like knowing they have a strong man by their side.”
A pang of something hits my heart. Is that loneliness? I must not have a family. Since I arrived, there’s been no mention.
She lifts the paper bag and looks inside. “Alright. Let’s check out these clothes.”
There’s a knock on my partially closed hospital door. Anne’s eyes fly to mine. “You scoot on in the bathroom and get changed. I’ll stall him.”
“You’re a saint.”
I scurry into the bathroom. I’m panting. Not because I pretty much ran, but because this is it.
He’s here. He’s my only chance at getting out of this place.
I pull the T-shirt out and hold it up. A laugh starts to form in my tummy.
Transformers? Seriously? Where did this come from?
I hold it up. It’s tiny. It’s a boy’s size medium.
A rumble of voices outside the bathroom door makes me curse.
“Here goes nothing.”
I shove my arms in the shirt and drag it over my head. The struggle is real. It barely fits over my braless breasts. The hem lands above my belly button.
I frown down at myself. Surely this has to be a comedy. A cringy one.
The other thing in the bag is a pair of men’s gym shorts. They smell like the T-shirt—clean laundry detergent. They’re a men’s size large.
God. Maybe I should put the gown back on.
I glance at the thing on the floor. No way in hell. I am not meeting the man of my dreams in a thin, backless hospital gown.
I tug up the shorts and flip the waist, praying they stay up.
It’s not a good look. I look like an idiot.
How did my life end up like this?
Washed up in the bay, half dead. Bruises all over me. Engaged to a man I can’t remember. And the first time I meet him, I’m going to look like the thrift shop threw up on me.
I almost pull the cord on the wall that rings the desk and ask for an intervention.
Bam! Bam! The bathroom door rattles. “Sierra?”
Not Anne. Definitely not her. This man has a VOICE.
That deep rasp booms through the door again. “Sierra?”
God, help me now.