A Cowboy's Honor. Lois Richer
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mostly to buy time to think.
So Dallas was back—a different Dallas. One who had no knowledge of their past. It was unbelievable, something she’d never anticipated.
“When you knew me…” He spoke haltingly, as if still fearful of the answers his questions might bring. “What did I do? For a job, I mean.”
“You’re an animal behavior specialist,” Gracie told him. That part was easy. “When I knew you, you had almost finished a contract working for a multinational company, traveling a lot to complete a research project. You talked about training horses after that. For police patrols, in New York, maybe? I’m not sure. You spoke of a number of different options, but they always included horses.”
“Hey, maybe I was a cowboy.” He grinned.
You were. My cowboy.
You were supposed to come home.
Dallas crumbled the rest of the cookie, held his outstretched hand on the bench and waited. After a moment another bird approached, and before many minutes had elapsed, it was eating from his hand.
“Do you know where I used to live in the city?”
“Actually, when I knew you, you had a place in Houston when you came back from traveling. I think your company owned it.” Gracie hesitated to tell him more, her fear crowding out the joy she’d begun to allow.
This was not the Dallas she’d known. This man was a stranger. Every sense warned her to be careful about what she told him. Thankfully, she wasn’t the same naive woman she’d once been.
Things had changed.
Don’t forget the past. To relax her guard now could cost her everything.
“Please tell me what you know,” he begged, withdrawing his hand so quickly the bird hopped backward, chattering angrily. “Please.”
When she didn’t speak Dallas bent forward, holding her gaze with his own. “I want to go home,” he begged. “I’ve been away so long. Please tell me where I belong.”
The ache underlying those words was Gracie’s undoing.
“You belong to me,” she whispered. “I’m your wife. We were married in this park six years ago today. May 1.”
For what seemed eternity Dallas said nothing, simply stared at her with an intensity that made her catch her breath. Then he reached up, cupped her chin in his palm as if he couldn’t help himself.
The action was so Dallas, Gracie had to blink back tears.
“I have a wife.” He might have said, I’m not alone, so great was the relief in his voice. “I am a married man.”
Gracie glanced at his left hand. Her stomach clenched. His ring finger was bare, missing the plain gold band she’d slid on it six years ago.
“Do we live nearby, Gracie?”
“No.”
Though she struggled to find a balance between his need to know and her need to feel safe, Gracie couldn’t deny this man was her husband. The green-gold eyes that had once melted with love for her, the hazel irises that deepened to a rich forest shade when he was serious, but lit up like Pharaoh’s gold when he laughed—they were the same.
His hair was longer now, shaggy and unruly, matching his rumpled clothing and generally disheveled state. There were a few silver strands among the dark, just above his ears. He was thinner than he’d been, his jeans loose on the lean body he’d once kept in shape by jogging. Sunken cheeks and haunted eyes told her he’d survived some trauma.
But underneath he was still Dallas, still her husband.
And she knew nothing of how he’d spent the past six years.
“Where do we live?”
She could tell him that. It didn’t matter now.
“We used to live in North Dakota in a little town called Turtleford. I’m a vet. My father had a practice there. I worked with him while you traveled for your business.”
“The house where we lived—was it a big kind of farmhouse with dormers and a high peaked roof?”
She nodded, surprised by the description.
“I dreamed about it,” he said, eyes wide. “And a purple bedroom.”
Gracie smiled and nodded.
“You claimed the bedspread and drapes looked less intense in the store where you bought them.”
I loved them because you gave them to me. I loved you.
Pain sliced through Gracie’s heart.
“I haven’t seen you in six years, Dallas. You left on a business trip out west, to Washington, and I never heard from you again. Do you have any idea why?”
She couldn’t have stopped the question even if she’d wanted to. It had lain unanswered in her mind for too long. Now desperation demanded to know how the man who’d professed to love her more than life could walk away from everything they’d promised each other.
“I’m sorry.” His gaze roved the park, returned to her, dazed and confused. “I don’t know anything except that about three months ago I woke up in a hospital in California. They said I’d been in a coma for almost six years. I had no identification, no money. Ever since then I’ve been trying to figure out who I am.”
Gracie’s heart cracked.
“I felt like there was somebody I belonged to, someone who knew about my past, but I couldn’t figure out whom. I guess I was thinking of you.”
A smile pushed up the corners of his mouth but was quickly replaced by a frown of confusion.
“What?” she asked. A hospital…Was he in pain?
“The police put out news alerts and posters, someone set up a tip line, but no one ever called to ask about me. My dreams were the only thing I had to go on.” He glanced around. “Do I have any family?”
I’m your family, a voice inside her screamed. And then a second terrifying thought took over.
His parents.
Stark, cold dread crawled up Gracie’s spine and seized the cords at the back of her neck. Her throat slammed shut, choking off her air supply. Her fingers squeezed together.
Don’t give in to it. Not yet.
They were his parents. They had a right to know Dallas was alive, even if he couldn’t remember who they were. But that didn’t mean she had to be there.
“When I got here I realized I knew my way around.” He continued speaking as if nothing had changed.
And for him it hadn’t.
“I didn’t get lost, I didn’t get confused. You said we met here.” He studied her intently. “I think I know this city.”
Gracie nodded. “Actually, you grew up in Dallas,” she said. “Your parents live here.”
“Parents?” His forehead wrinkled. “I don’t remember. Any siblings?”
“No.”
“Where do my parents live? Can you take me to see them?”
Gracie controlled her breathing. “I don’t know if your parents live in the same place they did when we were married, Dallas. I just moved back here. We…haven’t kept in touch.”
He studied her quizzically, opened his mouth as if to ask why, then closed it.
Gracie blinked, marveled that the world still looked the same. But nothing would ever be the same, and she had to prepare for that.
“Grace—no, Gracie, isn’t it?”
“Gracie.” She blinked,