Remember Me, Cowboy

He nodded.

“Can I get you anything? I have over-the-counter painkillers.”

“Took a couple of those before I came here. I’ll be all right. The headaches aren’t as bad as they used to be. I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. Laurel could tell by the forced quality of his smile. It was just so weird to be talking to him like this—as if they’d truly just met. Could he really not remember kissing her? Looking into her eyes as they made love?

He shifted uncomfortably, and she realized she’d been staring at him. She turned away, pretending to check the view out the window. Anything to keep from staring at him.

Finally Corb asked, “Are there things about you and me that I ought to know?”

“Yes.”

“Then fill me in, please. You can’t know how strange it feels to have a whole chunk of your life gone totally missing.”

“I hardly know where to start.”

“How about when we met?”

“Okay. That’s easy enough. It was at the airport. Winnie had an appointment so she sent you to pick me up.”

“Really? Seems like I ought to remember that.”

She smiled. “When you saw me you said it looked like Coffee Creek was about to get a whole lot sweeter.”

He groaned. “Sorry. Usually I try to use that line only once per woman.”

“We talked nonstop during the drive home from the airport. You took me straight to your ranch for a family dinner.”

He shook his head, his eyes reflecting his inner torment at his inability to recall any of this. “Was I wearing this shirt that night? Is that why you knew about it?”

Laurel traced a pattern on the table with her fingernail. “Not that night, no. You wore it at the rehearsal party the night before the wedding.” She raised her eyes to his, briefly. “When the music started, you asked me to dance. And when I said yes, you replied that it was a good thing that you’d worn your lucky shirt.”

“So. We danced together?”

“Yes.” And a whole lot more. But how on earth was she going to tell him? She could see that he was already blown away by just the few things she’d already shared.

“Wow. This is so freaky. It feels so unreal.”

Yeah. Tell me about it. “Maybe one day you will remember. When the headaches stop, perhaps your memory will come back.”

He gave her his charming smile. “I’d love to recall the feeling of you being in my arms. But I’m not so sure I want to remember the accident.”

Pain resurfaced on his face, and Laurel could tell this wasn’t the physical kind. Suddenly she went from feeling nervous to nauseous.

She put a hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. As much as she wished Corb remembered everything about their affair, she, too, was glad he had no recall of the accident. “The doctor told Winnie that Brock didn’t suffer. That he probably didn’t even register what was happening.”

“Yeah. That is some comfort.”

He didn’t look comforted, though, and she realized that she wasn’t going to tell him the rest today. He’d been through enough. Let him absorb the fact that they’d spent quite a lot of time together, first.

To be hit with the fact of her pregnancy right now just wouldn’t be fair. Besides, maybe he’d remember their affair on his own if she gave him a chance.

“Thanks for filling in those blanks for me, Laurel.”

“No problem. I thought you should know. But I should probably finish closing up here and getting the place ready to open in the morning.”

He took the hint with grace, getting up from the booth and heading for the door. She followed him outside, where the day was still warm and sunny. Once he was gone, she’d take a walk along the creek, see if fresh air would help her feel better.

“It was good to see you again, Laurel.” Corb had been carrying his hat. Now he settled it on his head, preparing to leave, but for some reason, not heading for his Jeep.

Laurel couldn’t answer. Since she’d stood up, her stomach had not been happy. Now it was threatening to heave the contents of her water glass all over the front sidewalk.

The feeling would pass. It always did. She put a hand on her stomach. Closed her eyes. Please...

But the feeling didn’t go away. In fact, it grew worse.

She needed a restroom. Now.

Cupping a hand over her mouth, she raced back inside, desperate to make it in time. Behind her, Corb called, “Are you okay?”

No. She sure wasn’t.

* * *

CORB DIDN’T KNOW what to do. He couldn’t just drive away without making sure Laurel was all right. Tentatively, he headed back inside the café and stuck his head down the short hallway that led to the restroom. He could hear retching on the other side of the closed door.

Jeez. That didn’t sound good.

He waited for the noise to subside, then called out, “Can I get you anything?”

“I have everything I need here. Fresh water. Towels. A solid door between us so you can’t see how embarrassed I am.”

He grinned, glad that she wasn’t so ill she had lost her sense of humor. There was the sound of flushing. Then her voice again, from behind the closed door. “You can go now. I’m fine.”

“Hey now. No need to be embarrassed. If I worked in this place, I’d overdose on cinnamon buns, too.”

“Ugh.” Water splashed from the sink, a few seconds passed, then the door opened and a pale-faced Laurel stepped out. “Sorry about that.”

His smile vanished as soon as he saw her. Despite her flippant commentary, she was obviously ill. “You look like hell. You’d better lie down.”

“I will.” She glanced pointedly at the door. “After I lock up behind you.”

“I’m not sure you should be left alone.”

“Believe me, I’m fine. I’ve had this bug for a few weeks now.”

“That’s a long time to have the flu. Have you seen a doctor?”