A Wyoming Christmas To Remember

He turned around to face her. “If that’s what you want.”

“Because you bargained?”

He nodded. “The most important thing to me was having you back. I have that. So yes. Ten kids.” He’d almost lost her. He’d said, prayed, that he’d give anything to have her back. And he’d meant it.

She stared at him, lifting her chin, and he had no idea what she was thinking. Her expressions, the way her mind worked now—all that was new to him. “Well, the only thing I want right now is my memory back. Maybe just being here, in my home, with you, will jog something, trigger something.”

He hoped so. Until then, they had this rare chance to be together without the past stomping on their marriage. He had the unfair advantage of knowing everything about them while she knew nothing, and there was no way he’d take it. He’d always be honest with Maddie. And what was most true this minute was that he loved her more than anything, would do anything for her. Ten children. Twenty.

All that mattered was that she’d survived, that she’d be all right, that she was home.

Chapter Two (#u43e19ee9-d3e8-55a5-86cd-8c2b490a5703)

Maddie needed to take a big step back, let everything she’d learned settle in her mind, her bones, so she suggested a tour of the house. Sawyer seemed relieved. She followed him upstairs, admiring the photos lining the wall. Pictures of the two of them—together—at so many different ages, from early childhood to what looked like recently. She and Sawyer, age five or six, holding kiddie fishing rods at a riverbank, a bucket between them. She and Sawyer, middle school years, arms linked for a semiformal, Maddie liking her pale pink dress. She and Sawyer, early twenties, Sawyer in a Wedlock Creek Police Department T-shirt, giving Maddie a piggyback ride. A couple with a long history together.

Upstairs was a wide landing with a sitting area. Off it were four rooms. Sawyer opened doors. The first was a guest room. Next to it a large bathroom. And the next room was completely empty.

“Couldn’t figure out what to do with the space?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You earmarked it as the nursery,” he said, glancing away.

“Ah.” She peered into the room—pale gray walls, wood floor, closet, four big windows. It would make a nice nursery—with furnishings in it. She imagined herself walking past this room every day, well aware it was empty. That must have burned, she thought. For both of them. A constant reminder of their stalemate.

“And this is our bedroom,” he said, opening the door to a big, cozy room, a four-poster bed with a fluffy white down comforter between two windows. There were plump pillows and a table on either side, matching lamps and a book on each—a history of Wyoming and a mystery. She wondered which was her side, her book. And what it would be like to slip under that soft, warm comforter beside a man she knew was her husband—and yet didn’t know at all. As if he could read her mind, he added, “I can sleep in the guest room or take the couch until your memory returns. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Well, we don’t know what will make my memory return, and since routine might help, I say we do what we always do. You’re my husband, and intellectually, I know that, so I’m going with it.”

He nodded and, if she wasn’t mistaken, looked kind of relieved.

So she would be sleeping beside him tonight. The thought had her taking him in on a purely physical level, and he was so attractive to her that a little burst of excitement and some butterflies let loose in her belly. She liked the way he looked at her with his serious green eyes—as if she were someone very special to him, and despite the issues in their marriage, that did seem clear to her. Plus, her family obviously liked him. And he was tall and strong and the top cop here in Wedlock Creek. Good looks aside, there was something very trustworthy about Sawyer Wolfe.

Of course, Maddie had little to go on in that department. Amnesiac Maddie had known him all of a few hours.

She walked over to a huge closet and opened it. His and hers. Hers on the left. She was very organized. Two piles of sweaters sat next to a row of hung jeans. She had lots of those. She also had a lot of shoes. She moved over to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Ooh. Many lacy bras and underwear. Some sexy nighties. A flutter swept her belly again, and she found herself very aware of him sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her.

On top of the dresser was a round mirrored tray holding perfume and a red velvet box. Inside she found jewelry. Earrings, bangle bracelets. A diamond tennis bracelet. Necklaces. A stunning diamond ring, square and surrounded by little baguettes in a gold setting. She thought about her wedding ring inside his wallet. Interesting that he kept it there instead of having put it in here.

She bit her lip and turned around to face him. “I assume asking you why you don’t want children, never wanted children, isn’t a simple one.”

“It is and isn’t,” he said.

“But after seven years of marriage? A strong marriage?”

“I’ve always had a lot on my plate,” he said, standing up and moving over to the window. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been chief at the WCPD for only almost a year now, and since I got that promotion on the young side, I felt I had to really prove myself. And before that, I wanted to be chief and worked double time to earn the job, so the timing just never seemed right to even think about starting a family. I have so much responsibility at work—for the town, for my staff—that I guess I couldn’t see having that kind of responsibility at home too. A baby needing more than I could give.”

A lot on his plate. A baby needing more than he could give. Both of those sounded like excuses, and she had a feeling the Maddie she’d been before the thonk on the head knew the real reasons he didn’t want children. The reasons he wasn’t mentioning.

“Hungry?” he asked with a tight smile. “I could heat up your mom’s chili and corn bread—she brought over a ton of food for me the day of the accident. I could barely choke down coffee, though.”

Quite a change of subject. He clearly didn’t want to talk about the state of their marriage anymore. “I had the hospital’s cream of something soup,” she said. “And some stale crackers. So I’m good for a few hours.” She glanced outside. “It’s a pretty nice day—I wouldn’t mind walking into town and visiting my family’s store.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You feel up to it? Dr. Addison said you shouldn’t go overboard trying to get back up to speed or even acclimated.”

“I don’t feel woozy at all. And my curiosity has the better of me right now.” Plus, she wanted to pepper him with questions—about everything—and despite not knowing him at all, she knew from his expression that he wasn’t up to that. “MacLeod’s Multiples Emporium isn’t far from here, is it?” Their house was just two blocks off the main street with all its charming-looking shops and restaurants.

He shook his head. “Walking distance—it’s right on Main Street, a couple minutes’ walk from the wedding chapel. You can’t miss MacLeod’s—there’s a painted wood sign with baby stuff on it—crib, baby shoes, baby bottles. And the windows are decorated to the nines for Christmas.”

I love Christmas. The thought startled her until she realized it was new knowledge from her response to that adorable miniature tree on her hospital windowsill and the shops decked out and the way their house was decorated for the holidays. She had no doubt she’d always loved Christmas. “I’d like to go check it out. Since I worked there, maybe it’ll ring a bell.”

“You’ll call me or text me if you feel overwhelmed or want to go home?” he asked. “I’ll come get you right away.”

She nodded, scrolling through her contacts on her phone. “Yup, there you are. Sawyer—cell and work.” Her family was in there too. And a bunch of other people whose names she didn’t recognize.

“I’ll drop you there, then go check in at the station for a bit,” he said. “We can meet up when you’re ready to go home.”

“Sounds good,” she said.

They headed back downstairs, and he handed Maddie her down jacket and scarf and put on a heavy brown leather jacket. He stood in front of the door, and Maddie had the feeling he almost didn’t want to let her go, that he liked having her in the house, their house. She wondered if he was worried about their marriage, if their impasse had gotten even bigger than their shared history, their love.

And she wondered if, when her memory did return, they’d be right back in that snowy moment outside the mediator’s office.

According to Sawyer, thirty-eight degrees in Wyoming in December was practically springlike, so they decided to walk the couple of blocks into town. He’d mentioned that the police station was just another half mile down. Wedlock Creek was bustling, people going in and out of stores, carrying bright bags with wrapped gifts poking out. The moment they arrived on the corner of Main Street, they were mobbed by well-wishers.

“It’s so wonderful to see you out and about!” one woman said, reaching for Maddie’s mittened hand. “We were all so worried. No one more than Sawyer, of course. And maybe your mom and dad.”

Sawyer smiled. “You’re right, Brenna,” he said, making a point of her name.

Maddie caught on quickly that, after the third such back-and-forth, Sawyer was covering for her lack of memory, and luckily, acquaintances were giving something of a wide berth since she’d gotten out of the hospital only that afternoon. “Do I know everyone?” she asked as they finally headed across the street toward MacLeod’s Multiples Emporium.

“Yup. Both of us do. Wedlock Creek is a small town, and we’ve lived here our entire lives. And I’m the chief of police, so everyone knows me. We knew everyone without that added to the mix.”

Maddie looked up at the pastel painted sign atop the length of her family’s business. A family walked past—with two red-haired identical twin girls. A woman wheeling a triple stroller was across the street. Multiples everywhere. Including right here—me, she thought.

“Your dad made the sign and painted it,” Sawyer said. “He’s quite a craftsman. He hand makes all the furniture MacLeod’s sells, cribs and bassinets and other wood items. He has a big following.”

“How wonderful,” she said, admiring the sign and the easel out front listing a colorful array of items in someone’s excellent handwriting. Everything from personalization to layettes to baby paraphernalia to children’s clothing. She watched two women wheeling twin strollers go inside the shop; two more came out carrying big yellow shopping bags with the MacLeod’s logo.

“I’ll probably be thirty minutes or so,” she said to Sawyer. “I’ll just visit the store and say hi to my family if they’re there. I don’t think I’ll walk around town just yet on my own in case I run into someone who knows me and I have no idea who they are. Seems so complicated to explain about my memory.”

He nodded. “I’ll pick you up here in thirty minutes.”

She smiled, and he leaned over awkwardly and kissed her on the cheek. He hesitated before pulling back, and she had the feeling he’d wanted to embrace her. More than embrace—hold her, tightly. Frankly, she could use a hug.

“See you in a bit,” she said, those flutters in her belly again, and darted into the shop. She turned back to see Sawyer watching her as if to make sure she was okay. She gave a wave and walked in farther. When she looked back, he was finally heading up the street.

The shop was both elegant and folksy at the same time and separated into sections for clothing and furniture and baby paraphernalia. The place was pretty crowded too; Maddie could see two saleswomen with MacLeod’s name tags helping shoppers.

“Maddie!”