Chapter 7

Prudence rubbed her eyes and grabbed her glasses. The sun was up, peaking through the drawn curtains. She felt around on the bed, searching for Adam as she put them on. The bed was cold where he used to be. She shot up and checked the crib. Angel was gone.

Rubbing blurry eyes, she realized that she had her memories from yesterday. Though the days before were still a blank. She had no idea if she would ever get those back. Either way, this was progress. Excitement bubbled up as she glanced around.

Adam had to be here somewhere. She slipped out of the covers. At the foot of the bed, her clothes were clean, stacked, and folded. She grabbed them before freshening up in the bathroom and changing, realizing she had underestimated the power of clean clothes her entire life.

There was a brush in the top drawer, so she used it to try to tame her curls. Good luck there.

With a much more positive outlook, she headed downstairs. The house was quiet, too quiet, and the unsettled feeling returned. She tiptoed into the kitchen where she saw Angel making cooing noises at Adam as he held her with one arm while standing at the window.

She cleared her throat, not wanting to catch him off guard.

He immediately turned around.

“Morning,” he said, and she could have sworn she caught him studying her. Did he wonder about her memory too?

“The sun’s up already,” she said with a thumbs up. “Thanks for letting me sleep.”

“Figured you needed the rest,” he said. “Plus, me and Angel have been getting to know each other.”

“I’m guessing there’s no word from the sheriff yet,” she said.

He shook his head. She figured as much. He would have led with the update.

“May I?” She walked right over to him, resisting the urge to press up to her tiptoes and plant a kiss on those perfect lips of his. She really did get a good night’s sleep if she was aching to kiss Adam before coffee. But then he was that bone-melting hot.

“Be my guest.” He handed over the baby, who raised an immediate objection to the transfer.

An emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint darkened his eyes when he looked at Angel.

“This should help.” He cut across to the table and then returned with the binky.

The little girl took it, and immediately settled down. Prudence took note of how good he was becoming with her. Not for the first time did she wonder if he was somehow the child’s father. The hair color was right. The eyes were wrong. But who could really tell with a baby this young?

“How about coffee?” he asked, breaking into the train of thought before it could gain too much steam.

“Sounds like heaven to me,” she admitted.

“You remember,” he whispered as he walked past and there was more than a hint of relief in his voice.

Prudence looked onto the expansive backyard.

The grass was mostly green with plenty of bald patches, thanks to a lack of rain for almost two years running.

If they didn’t get rain soon, it would mean trouble for crops and cattle.

Even so, the landscape was like something out of a postcard.

The twin barns off in the distance might be reminders of a divided family, but they were magnificent against the backdrop of dozens of mesquite trees.

“I’ll just put this on the table for whenever you’re ready,” Adam said.

She immediately made her way over. Beautiful as the place was, she needed a caffeine boost. She took a seat and cradled Angel with one arm. The first sip was always the best, Prudence thought, welcoming the burn on her throat.

“Are you hungry?” Adam asked.

“I can’t eat before I wake up. But thank you,” she said, taking in the massive kitchen.

There was an oversized gas stovetop with two ovens, all stainless steel.

More counter space than she imagined being able to use in a week, let alone for one day’s worth of cooking.

She’d seen fully staffed restaurant kitchens smaller than this one.

“What is it?” Adam asked, taking a seat next to her.

She shot her best confused look at him.

“Your forehead wrinkles when you’re thinking hard about something. I’m curious what that is,” he said.

A trill of awareness skittered across her skin at his perusal.

“I was just taking it all in and thinking how lonely it must have been to live in this massive space all by himself.” She took another sip and smiled down at the bundle in her arms.

“The Marshall didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he probably enjoyed the irony,” he said.

“Seems like a shame. I can imagine lively dinners here at this table and holiday meals that make my mouth water just thinking about them. Fresh baked cookies would be cooling over there and the smell of ham and turkey with cornbread dressing would fill the room.” She caught herself spelling out the fantasy and her cheeks warmed.

“What you’re describing would have been nice.

Firebrands just don’t work that way,” he said matter-of-fact, but she picked up on a note of sadness he seemed intent to cover.

Or maybe he was just resigned to the childhood he’d had.

He was on to something there, though. She’d learned a long time ago that it was impossible to go back and change the past.

“Did something happen to make him so hardened?” She couldn’t help but wonder what his grandfather’s story was and why he would push everyone away.

Her first hint that he wasn’t a warm-and-fuzzy type came with the fact he had his grandchildren call him the Marshall instead of something endearing like granddad or grandpa.

“I have no idea. He wasn’t the kind of person who discussed his feelings.” Adam covered his disappointment with a smile.

“That makes it hard to get to know someone,” she said, liking that he was talking to her about something important to him. And she sensed the lack of relationship with his grandfather hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

“The crazy part is that all I ever wanted from him was to be able to sit down one day and have a beer together. Talk about my grandmother, who I barely knew, or what they were like growing up. How he knew she was the one. Or we could’ve talked about why he cared about cattle ranching so much.

Hell, I don’t care. Having the beer and talking one-on-one was all that mattered.

What we would have said wasn’t so important.

” He paused, shifting his gaze toward the window.

“Now, I’ll never get the chance. That’s the part I hate.

He’ll always be a mystery to me, and we no longer have any chance at a relationship.

I keep thinking maybe I should have tried harder.

He was healthy, though. I thought there was time,” he admitted. “Or at least he seemed so.”

“He’s a fool for missing out on getting to know you if you ask my opinion,” Prudence didn’t miss a beat.

Adam stared at the window for a long moment. Then, he broke into a wide smile in a show of perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth. “His loss, I guess.”

“Yes, it is,” she confirmed, happy to see him smile and look like he meant it.

“I still would’ve liked to have had the beer,” he said, raising his coffee cup instead.

“He’s a fool for not suggesting it. No disrespect intended,” she quickly qualified. “And I’ll have a beer with you anytime you want.”

Adam rewarded her with a sincere look and another smile that made her bones liquefy. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“I’m not sure what I did to deserve thanks, but you’re welcome.” All she was doing was stating the truth. The bold offer of a having a beer anytime wasn’t something she would normally do. She was getting more comfortable in her skin and with her new bravado.

“How about breakfast now?” he asked, pushing off the table with one hand.

“Do you have toast?” she asked.

“And jam,” he said, turning long enough to fire off a wink.

“Sold.” Prudence wasn’t much of a breakfast eater. In fact, she normally downed a couple of bites of yogurt to get her pills down. Which reminded her, “I need to get home soon.”

“We can leave right after you eat.” Adam made quick work of toast. He had a plate to her with twin Texas-sized slices of bread smattered in jam. She normally ate hers with a dab of butter. After taking the first bite, she would never be able to go back.

“How long do we have until she needs another bottle?” she asked.

“She had one a few minutes before you came down, so we should be good until noon,” he supplied.

He sure had the routine down in a short time. She glanced at the baby. Where is your mother, sweet girl?

And the question burning in the back of her mind that wouldn’t let up. Who is your father?

Adam borrowed a car seat from Casey, who already had it strapped in the back seat of the truck by the time him and Prudence were ready to leave. He’d already programmed Prudence’s address into his phone’s GPS, so after brief instructions on proper car seat usage, Adam was on the road.

Prudence’s house was smack in the center of town.

Some of the earliest settlers in Lone Star Pass were from Germany and they did their best to recreate home, or so his grandmother had told him.

The downtown area was a blend of Gothic and Romanesque architecture built after a major city.

He couldn’t remember which one and figured he should have paid better attention when his grandmother spoke.

But then he had a lot of regrets when it came to what he should have done while she was alive.

She was the talker between her and the Marshall, and loved to sing.

Those were the few memories he had of her.

Speaking of his grandfather, had he always been so stern?

Or had he become that way after his wife died?

Adam couldn’t remember. All he knew was the man had married two other times.

Had one divorce under his belt and buried his third wife two years ago.

He had a reputation for being a ladies’ man despite being a married man.

Adam could never be certain when that had started.

He glanced at the clock as he pulled in front of the two-story. There were lines of cars parked on either side of the street. He navigated through them, making sure he didn’t lose a side-mirror in the process. Being in town always made him want to loosen his collar.

It had taken an hour to get to Prudence’s house.

She woke after eight this morning and they spent more than half an hour in the kitchen talking and drinking coffee.

It would take another hour to drive back.

They would need to be on the road in about an hour if they wanted to get home before the next feeding time.

Adam was realizing how much the early weeks of parenting were about being on a tight schedule and life revolving around bottles of formula.

“Think we need to bring in the diaper bag?” he asked.

“Never hurts since the diapers are in there,” she said, motioning toward the back seat. “In fact, I’m surprised she hasn’t—”

“Oh, she did. Four o’clock in the morning. Brax helped with clean up,” he said, wrinkling his nose just thinking about it.

“Bad memory?” she teased, her voice playful.

“Let’s just say I’m not taking the next one,” he shot back.

Prudence laughed. She exited the truck before he had a chance to get around and open the door for her. Call him old-fashioned but he would always offer.

She had the baby out of the car seat with a flick of her thumb. Since he wanted to be useful, he offered to take the diaper bag.

“Actually, do you mind holding her? Now that I think about it, I don’t have a key with me so I’ll have to go around back for the spare,” she said.

He shouldered the diaper bag and then took the baby. It wasn’t logical but she felt even smaller to him out here and he was suddenly afraid he would drop her.

“I’ll be a second,” Prudence said.

“I’d rather go with you, if you don’t mind.” He didn’t want either of these two out of his sight.

She glanced around before nodding. “Do you want me to carry something?”

“Nope. I got it.” He was getting more comfortable holding the baby outside.

As they passed the front porch, the squeak of a screen door caused his fight response to kick into high gear. A male figure sprinted away from the back of her house.

Prudence muttered the same curse he was thinking.

“Can you take her?” he asked.

She nodded as he handed Angel over.

“Stick as close to me as you can.” Adam was fast. He didn’t doubt his abilities there.

But if he took off in a full sprint, he’d be leaving Prudence and the baby alone.

So, basically, this situation was a no-win.

Leave her and he would be leaving her vulnerable.

Stay and the jerk who’d been inside her home would get away.

Adam ate up the real estate to the backyard, keeping Prudence close. He scanned the area. A series of chain link fences gave him plenty of visibility, but no one was outside. Not a homeowner. Not a kid. Not a dog.

Bad luck, he thought as tires squealed out front.

Adam jogged toward his truck. Again, a few seconds too late to see anything in between the vehicles. By the time he made it to the street, the vehicle had turned, and the dogs had caught on. He fished his cell out of his pocket and called the sheriff to the backdrop of howling and barking.

Lawler answered on the first ring. He sounded pre-occupied. Adam wasted no time giving the lawman an update.

“I’ll be right there,” Lawler said. “Don’t touch anything.”

“We’ll wait inside the truck,” Adam promised, figuring it was too dangerous to stand here in the middle of the street. He quickly added, “Prudence remembers.”

“How much?” Lawler’s tone held out a lot of hope.

“What we already know. But I think it’s significant she woke up with those memories,” Adam said.

“I agree,” Lawler said. “Now, to figure out why she has the memory lapses in the first place.”

“How long before you get here?” Adam was already calculating bottles and timelines in the back of his mind.

This would set back their schedule. They would have to stick around long enough for another bottle.

Plus, Angel had been wrapped like a burrito all night.

Maybe they could take her out and let her play on the floor.

Or whatever babies this age did. And, of course, depending on the state of Prudence’s house.

The perp didn’t have anything in his hands but that didn’t mean he didn’t destroy the place.

“Forty minutes with lights and sirens to clear the path,” Lawler said. “I have a deputy closer. I can send him over to dust for prints on the door handles.”

“Sounds good,” Adam said.

“We can talk about the next steps once I get there,” Lawler said. There was an ominous quality to his tone that didn’t sit well with Adam.

“Okay,” he said casually, trying not to alert Prudence to his concern at what Lawler meant by that.

The sheriff’s statement had been a loaded one. Adam didn’t want to guess what it meant, because in every scenario he could think of, this little girl was taken away. A surprising amount of anger roiled through him at the thought.

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