Husbands, Husbands...Everywhere!

Ryan reclined in the ladder-back chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “As I asked between sneezes upstairs, exactly when were we on this honeymoon?”

Abby set her delicate china cup down on a matching saucer. “You’re not questioning that we did in fact have one?”

“Not at the moment,” he replied, and left it at that.

“Well then, whether you choose to believe it happened or not, we met in Tucson nearly seven years ago, in the lounge area of a restaurant near the University of Arizona where some of my friends and I were celebrating the fact that we’d graduated from U of A earlier that day. You asked me to dance. I accepted. It was pretty much a whirlwind courtship. We eloped on a scorching hot day in July, got married at a small wedding chapel on our way south, and honeymooned in Mexico.”

He didn’t move a muscle as he absorbed that information. “And when did we part company?”

“Barely a year later.”

“Not one of the longest marriages on record,” he said.

Her lips, moistly pink despite no trace of makeup, twisted. “I suppose that sums it up.”

“Who wanted the divorce?”

She looked him straight in the eye. “I did.”

Why? He caught the thought back before he could voice it. Something told him he wasn’t going to like the answer. “And we haven’t seen each other for six years?”

“No contact at all since we left the courthouse in Tucson. We had no major joint assets, like a home, and with no children involved, there was little reason to keep in touch.”

He lifted a hand and ran it through his hair. “At least that explains why you weren’t listed in my personnel file. I joined the Border Patrol five years ago. They’d have done a background check at the time, but they wouldn’t have been looking for ex-wives.” And he must’ve kept mum about the brief marriage when it came to his fellow agents, he thought to himself. They might be nearly as amazed to learn what he had just discovered as he’d been. As for where his copy of the marriage—not to mention divorce—papers were, he’d come across a key for a safe deposit box, one he hadn’t checked out yet.

“The personnel records showed my parents as deceased,” he added, “and a sister living in Wyoming as next-of-kin.”

“Mmm-hmm. Have you spoken to her?”

“No, not yet.” That was something else he’d been meaning to do. “If I had contacted her, she’d probably have broken the news before you rocked me back on my heels with it.”

“She might have mentioned me,” Abby agreed. “Certainly she knew I had joined the family. We talked on the phone a few times and exchanged Christmas cards one year. I wanted to visit her and you said we would, but we never got around to it. You always seemed to be too busy. Back then you were working as a freelance pilot, and you loved your job.”

“More than I loved to party?” he couldn’t help asking in a tone as dry as dust.

“Yes,” she replied calmly. “Freelance work seemed to suit you to a T. I’d ask why you gave it up…but I bet you don’t know, do you?”

It was his turn to meet her gaze head-on. “No.”

Abby leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table, deciding it was time she asked some questions. Especially one. “What happened, Ryan?”

After a second’s hesitation, he heaved a gusty sigh. “Unfortunately, I’m not real clear on that subject. The first thing I remember is coming to on a flat stretch of desert a few miles north of the border with the wind howling in my ears. I was strapped into a helicopter that was a lot worse for wear. Apparently I’d set it down during one devil of a spring dust storm—or maybe crash-landed would be a better description.”

God, he might have been killed. That was all she could think. A chill ran down Abby’s spine at the realization of just how close he’d probably come to total disaster.

“I drifted in and out of consciousness. Mostly out, I imagine. The next thing I knew, a state highway cop was looking me straight in the eye and asking who I was.” Ryan chuckled, but the sound held no humor. “I guess it was a helluva shock to both of us when I had to tell him I didn’t have a clue.”

Abby frowned. “You don’t remember anything at all?”

He shook his head. “Not about me. The only way I can explain it is that I have no trouble recalling the mechanics of how to drive, but what kind of cars I’ve driven in the past are another thing altogether.”

“What do the doctors say?”

He lifted a broad shoulder in a shrug. “That it could all come back to me tomorrow. Then again, it might take a lot longer than that. Head injuries are apparently chancy. One thing for dead sure, people in white coats have done enough poking and prodding to last me a lifetime.”

The clipped edge to that last comment told her he’d be happy to drop the subject. She could understand why, too. It had to be frustrating beyond belief to have no idea when the memories would return, or even if they would, totally. And he’d injured more than his head. Now she knew the reason for the slight limp she’d caught earlier. “How’s your leg?” she inquired mildly.

A rueful expression crossed his face. “I guess I didn’t fool you, huh?”

“You nearly did,” she told him. “It wasn’t that noticeable.”

“I don’t notice it much myself anymore,” he said. “It was probably the long drive this morning that did it. The muscles seem to knot up when I’m sitting too long.”

“You drove up from Douglas?” she asked, recalling the address he’d given as his residence when he’d checked in.

“Uh-huh.”

The location had made sense to her once he’d revealed his current government employer. Douglas, a smaller city at Arizona’s southern tip, was much closer to the border than Tucson. But both were a long way from where he was now. And that brought up another question. “Why did you come to Harmony?”

He met it with a question of his own. “Do you know a guy named Jordan Trask?”

She shook her head.

“He used to be with the Border Patrol before he moved here. He called me yesterday after hearing about the accident from someone else we both worked with down south. Trask didn’t waste any time in suggesting that I get away for a while and give this town a try.” Ryan grimaced wryly. “Actually, he flat-out ordered me to get my butt in gear and haul myself up here. Said this place would make a new man of me.”

Abby had to smile. “Sounds like he might be a good friend to have.”

“I can’t argue with that. He says we’ve known each other for as long as I’ve been with the agency.”

But Ryan didn’t remember him, any more than he remembered her. Or anyone else. She couldn’t help but feel more than a little sympathy, yet she held back on expressing any, suspecting it would not be welcome. “Did he tell you about Aunt Abigail’s?”

“Yeah.” This time his low chuckle held some genuine humor. “He stayed here at one point, even raved about the feather beds.”

She laughed and found it felt good, despite everything. “You’ll have to thank him.”

“I will, believe me. I plan on paying him a visit this weekend.”

Abby took another sip of tea. “So you’re staying in Harmony for a while?” The question was as casual as she could make it.

He nodded. “I’m in no hurry to head south again. Actually the people I work for don’t seem in any rush to have me back on the job. They keep telling me to get a good rest. It’s pretty clear that at least some of the powers-that-be consider me a loose cannon right now.” He blew out a disgusted breath. “It’s like I lost my mind instead of my memory. If this drags on, they’ll probably agree to give me a desk job, where they can keep an eye on me while I push papers around, but I won’t be doing any flying for them as things stand, that’s plain.”

There was no hint of anguish in his last remark. None. And that surprised her. “Won’t you miss it?”

“The flying?” His expression turned thoughtful. “I don’t know. I haven’t missed it yet, not especially. It’s the inactivity, the doing nothing besides coddling myself, that’s beginning to drive me up the wall.”

Now Abby was stunned clear down to her toes. Good Lord. He hadn’t missed it.

Blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You don’t think I’m crazy, too, do you?”