The Maverick's Christmas To Remember

Dr. Robinson shared another look with Drew before answering. “In theory, we would always recommend telling a patient the truth. But in this case, she hit her forehead, where the frontal lobe is encased, and that makes it hard for her to retrieve and evaluate memories. So in instances of confabulation, it doesn’t matter what you say. Her brain is in a fragile state right now and will only be able to understand what her frontal lobe is telling her.”

“How long does this last?” Craig folded his arms across his chest and looked longingly toward the ER exit doors. “I mean, do I actually have to pretend to be her fiancé?”

“I’m sure Dr. Robinson doesn’t want you to pretend to be anything,” Drew offered, looking at his watch.

“No, of course not. I’m simply recommending that we don’t upset the patient until all the tests come back and we know more about what’s going on.”

“So when will that happen?”

“As soon as her fiancé gives us consent?”

“But I’m not—”

Dr. Robinson held up her palm. “I was kidding. When she wakes up again, we can get her verbal consent. But is there anybody else we should notify in the meantime? Anyone else who can give us a better medical history?”

All eyes turned toward Josselyn again. “I looked through her purse, but I couldn’t find her cell phone. I heard back from Vivienne earlier, and she confirmed that Caroline’s parents are out of the country right now on some sort of teaching sabbatical and she doesn’t remember her mentioning any friends or family nearby. I would hate to leave her here all alone. What if she wakes up and is confused again?”

“Obviously, we can’t leave her here alone,” Craig said.

Drew looked at his watch a second time. “I have to get back to Rust Creek Falls before my son gets out of school.”

“I’d stay, but I have to speak at the city council meeting this evening to ask for extra funding for the elementary school library. If I miss it, I’ll have to wait another month to get my proposal approved.”

“Maybe I’ll call Ben and ask...” Drew started.

“No way,” Craig said, shaking his head before his friend could even finish the thought. “I can stick around.”

Chapter Three (#u3a3c9798-b7cd-5d0e-aa89-f20c31f8b6d4)

The words had flown out of Craig’s mouth before they’d had a chance to logically form in his brain. Not because his skin itched with jealousy at the mention of another man staying with Caroline when she was this vulnerable, but because Craig hadn’t been able to shake this sense of responsibility for her since he’d seen her slipping off that chair. If he tried to explain this impulse, it wouldn’t make sense to his friends. Hell, it didn’t even make sense to him.

“I mean, if I’m her... I...uh...mean...if Caroline thinks I’m her fiancé, then obviously she’ll be expecting me to be here when she wakes up. I wouldn’t want to make things worse. And it’s not like it’s a big deal,” Craig added, more for his own benefit than to convince his friends. “I’m not really doing anything else today.”

It was true. The late fall season was the slowest time on his family’s ranch because they’d already sent their latest herds to market and didn’t plan to start breeding the new calves until after the new year. He was in Rust Creek Falls to visit two of his brothers and to check in with some of the other local ranchers for what his dad referred to as “old-fashioned market research.”

Josselyn frowned. “I’m not sure if it would be in Caroline’s best interest to let her continue thinking that you two are really engaged. After all, she’ll get her memory back eventually, won’t she?”

Dr. Robinson lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Like I said, we’ll know more after her tests. I’d feel better holding off on any treatment plan or official diagnosis just yet, but if it is confabulation strictly caused by a brain injury and not caused by a mental health issue or dementia, then this memory setback likely won’t last too long. With all that being said, while I wouldn’t advocate lying to a patient, I don’t necessarily see any harm in letting them believe in whatever is going to give them a sense of peace for the time being. Our biggest goal right now is to keep Caroline as calm and relaxed as possible.”

Drew looked at his watch again. “Are you sure you want to stay, Craig?”

“I don’t want to,” Craig clarified, more for himself than for anyone else listening. “But if it’s the easiest solution and it will keep Caroline calm so that she can heal, then I’ll do it.”

There, that sounded plausible enough, even to his own ears. After several more rounds of “Are you sure?” followed by Craig’s growing insistence, he eventually found himself sitting on the miserable plastic chair beside her bed in the exam room, drinking cold coffee and scrolling on his smartphone for the latest feed and grain reports. It wasn’t the same as getting out to the other ranches and talking directly to his fellow cattlemen, but he couldn’t just blow off all his work duties to sit around playing nurse.

Normally, he rarely used the device except for making calls and often told his brothers that any cattleman worth his salt didn’t rely on fancy gadgets that could easily get busted working on the ranch. If Craig was in the field and needed information off the internet, he usually just asked his brother Rob or waited until he could use the computer at the house. However, now that their father had been bitten with the technology bug and insisted on sending group texts with links to online articles, Craig found himself a reluctant user.

“Do you think I could have one of your Life Savers?” Caroline’s soft voice was so unexpected that Craig dropped his phone, its reinforced hard-shell case preventing the screen from cracking on the tile floor.

“Huh?” Craig asked, then wanted to kick himself for sounding like such a dope.

“One of your Life Savers.” Caroline pointed to the front pocket of his shirt, where he always stashed a roll of his favorite cherry-flavored candy.

His chin dropped toward the empty pocket. Okay, now that was weird. He’d had less than half a roll when he’d left his brother’s house this morning and then had nervously plowed through the rest of them by the time Caroline had undergone her MRI. Since she’d never been conscious during any of the times he’d popped one into his mouth, there was no way for her to be aware of his little sugar habit.

“How do you know about my Life Savers?” he asked, trying his best not to completely disregard the doctor’s instructions about keeping Caroline calm.

“You always have them,” she replied, her smile all dreamy again and his insides responding the same way they had the last time she’d woken up and grinned at him. “Plus, you smell like cherries.”

Craig let out the breath he’d been holding, mildly relieved with the second part of her explanation. “Do you know who I am?”

Caroline’s smooth forehead pinched into several lines as she studied him. Thinking that maybe she’d lost a pair of glasses in the fall and couldn’t see his face clearly, Craig leaned closer as intense concentration took over her expression. She opened her pouty bow-shaped lips several times before defeat filled her eyes. “I don’t know why I can’t think of your name.”

“It’s Craig,” he replied, wanting to pump his fist in celebration. Not that he should be basking in her confusion, but if she didn’t know his name, then she’d finally realized that he was actually a complete stranger. That meant that her amnesia spell or confabulation—or whatever it was—had finally passed and she no longer needed him to take care of her. He extended his hand as he introduced himself. “I’m Craig Clifton.”

Caroline inhaled deeply through her nose as she nodded. But instead of taking his proffered handshake, she laced her fingers through his. “Of course you are. I must’ve hit my head pretty hard to forget my own fiancé’s name.”

* * *

Poor Craig looked about as confused as Caroline felt. It must be difficult for him to see the woman he loved like this. But then again, at least he wasn’t the one who’d completely forgotten most of the specifics about the person he was supposed to be marrying. Hopefully, it wasn’t a bad omen for their relationship if she could perfectly recall every other detail of her life except for the one that was arguably the most important.

She squeezed her eyes closed as though it might help paint a more accurate picture of the man in her mind. Caroline remembered the hook-shaped scar on his neck, she remembered he liked cherry-flavored candy and... And that was where all the details stopped.

“Are you in pain?” Craig asked. “Should I call for a nurse?”

“Oh, no.” Caroline’s lids popped open. “I was just trying really hard to recall something more concrete about us, like how long we’ve been together or where we first met or where you live and work. But I’m drawing a complete blank, and to be honest, it’s making me a little nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” he said quickly, then rolled his lips inward, causing him look like a child who was trying to bite back a secret. The expression didn’t exactly alleviate her fears. Her growing anxiety must have been obvious because he added, “The doctor said that when you hit your head, it might have caused a few problems with your memory.”

Panic clawed at her throat, and she could feel the cold, dry air hitting her eyes as they grew wider than normal. “Like amnesia?”

“Not exactly.” Craig rubbed the scarred area of his neck. “The doctor called it something else, but it’s similar. She can probably explain it to you way better than I can.”

Craig stood up, and his cowboy boots clicked against the floor as he strode over to the open curtain and waved down a hospital employee in surgical scrubs. Caroline couldn’t hear what he was saying, but his thumb gestured her way and her gaze traveled from his hand down his tan, muscular forearms to where his red plaid work shirt was rolled to the elbows. Because of the way he was standing, Caroline could only study him from a side angle, but as she took in his well-rounded shoulders and flat abs and long, strong legs encased in faded denim, she couldn’t help but wonder how in the world she could possibly have forgotten a perfect form like his.

When he pivoted to walk back toward Caroline, her tummy dropped and she got light-headed again. The view from the front was just as good as the one from the side. Heat flooded her cheeks and she asked, “Do you think I could possibly have a drink of water?”

“I asked the doctor about you being able to eat or drink when you woke up and she said only a sip of water until after your CT scan. She doesn’t anticipate you needing any sort of surgery, but they haven’t ruled it out yet.”

The mention of surgery should’ve had her concerned. Instead, a sense of relief blossomed inside her chest. It was reassuring that her fiancé knew her well enough to understand that she’d be worried about eating and drinking and obviously had taken steps to provide answers for her. Maybe she’d even told him the story about her dad’s gallbladder surgery and the soft-serve ice cream. It was crazy to think that this man beside her was probably privy to all of her secrets and all of her needs. Now if only she could recall some of his preferences—besides candy, obviously—then they’d be on equal footing.

Craig picked up a water bottle from the bedside tray table and unscrewed the plastic cap before gently holding it to her lips. “Not too much, now.”

As she drank, she made the mistake of lifting her eyes to his face and was hit with such an intense attraction that she swallowed way too quickly and began coughing. Craig used the back of his hand to wipe the water that had dribbled down her chin. It was such an intimate gesture, not necessarily in a sexual way but in the way someone would take care of a loved one.

Something warm spread through Caroline’s body. She was loved. By this man. While the feeling wasn’t entirely familiar to her, it was certainly exciting. And very welcome. After all, Caroline had known that she wanted to be a wife and a mother since kindergarten, when she and five-year-old Scott Sullivan had staged a mock wedding during recess. Unfortunately, they’d barely gotten through the first-grade minister’s line of “You may kiss the bride,” before the teacher had put a stop to things and called Caroline’s and Scott’s parents to inform them that students needed to keep their hands—and their lips—to themselves at school. When her mother asked why she’d wanted to marry Scott Sullivan, Caroline had told her that he was the only boy who wasn’t playing handball that day. After that, Rita Rodriguez, department chair for Women and Gender Studies at Wellesley College, had made her daughter promise that she would never settle for a man.

And Caroline never did again. In fact, she hadn’t so much as had a boyfriend because every guy she’d ever gone out with hadn’t felt like “the one.”