The Texan's Future Bride

“You don’t have to fuss over me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You’re going above and beyond.”

“I want you to get well.” She left her cell-phone number on the desk. “Call if you need anything.”

“How long are you going to be gone?”

“Probably a couple of hours. You should try to nap while I’m gone.” She walked to the door and glanced over her shoulder at him.

He stood beside the feather bed, looking like a man in need of magic.

Chapter Three

After Jenna left, J.D. didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t want to take a nap, even if he was supposed to be resting. He glanced around the room, then eyed the landline phone.

Already he felt like calling Jenna and telling her that he needed something. But what?

Companionship, he thought. He was lonely as hell.

He sat on the bed, then went ahead and reclined on it. Damn. The feather mattress was heavenly.

J.D. considered his whereabouts. He was hellishly lonely on a heavenly bed? Talk about an odd combination.

The amnesia was odd, too. He couldn’t remember anything about himself, but he knew what year it was, who was president, what the world at large was like.

He closed his eyes, and unable to resist the bed, he dozed off.

He awakened hours later, the red-digit clock glaring at him. He hadn’t dreamed. His subconscious hadn’t created any thoughts or images.

He got up and waited for Jenna to return.

She arrived with a light knock at the door. He answered her summons eagerly.

Her hands were filled with grocery bags.

“I’ll take those.” He lifted the bags and carried them to the kitchen.

She went out to her truck and came back with containers of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

“I’m not much of a cook,” she said. “This came from the diner in town. I picked it up when I got the groceries.”

“I hope you’re going to join me. It looks like there’s plenty for both of us.”

“Sure. I’ll eat with you.” She walked into the dining room to set the table.

After the plates and silverware were in place, she returned to her truck for the rest of the stuff she’d promised. He could see her from his vantage point in the kitchen.

Upon reentering the house, she called out to him. “The clothes belong to a ranch hand who, I think, is about your size. I’ll put them on the sofa for you. There’s a nice little satchel with toiletries, too. Donna had them made up for the guest rooms and cabins. She’s handling the marketing end of the B and B. She’s been redecorating, too.”

Interested in talking to her, he crammed the grocery bags in the fridge and met her in the dining room.

“What do you do, Jenna?”

“I’m a horseback riding instructor. It was my profession before I came to the Flying B. I’ve always been a country girl, even when I lived in the city. I grew up in Houston.”

“I assumed you grew up here.”

“No. Tammy, Donna and I inherited the ranch from our grandfather, and Tammy’s brothers inherited some undeveloped land on the west side of the property. All of us were rewarded money, too, with stipulations of how it’s to be used. The girls are supposed to keep the ranch going, which we decided includes the inception of the B and B. And the boys are supposed to take advantage of the mineral rights that go with the land, so they’ll be commissioning a survey. Our grandfather left us a portion of his legacy, but we barely got to know him before he passed away. Our families were estranged from him and each other.”

They sat down to eat. Curious, he asked, “Who was estranged, exactly?”

“Our dads. They’re twin brothers. They hadn’t spoken to each other or to Grandpa since…”

She didn’t finish her statement, and he wondered if the rift had something to do with Savannah Jeffries and why she’d left town.

He said, “Who knows who my family is or if I even have one.”

“Everyone comes from somewhere.”

“Yes, but I forgot who they were. I mean, how important can they be?”

“You have a head injury. That’s not your fault.”

He popped open a soda can. “It still feels personal.”

“Your life will be back on track before you know it.”

Would it? At this point, he couldn’t see past his amnesia. He couldn’t imagine who he was. “I fell asleep while you were gone.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Did you dream?”

“No.”

She seemed disappointed. “Maybe you will tonight.”

He didn’t reply.

A short time later, they finished their meals and went into the living room. They sat on the sofa, and he checked out the clothes, which consisted of a handful of shirts and a couple of pairs of Wrangler jeans. He noticed a package of unopened boxer shorts, too. “Where did these come from?”

“I bought those at the emporium in town. I took a chance that you wore that type. I took a chance on the size, too.” She paused, a sweetly shy expression on her face. “I hope it wasn’t too forward of me.” She quickly added, “I got you socks, too. Did you see those?”

“Yes, thank you.” But buying him socks wasn’t nearly as intimate as buying him boxers. “I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.”

“I borrowed the clothes before I went into town, and then, while I was shopping for groceries, it hit me that you might need those other things, so I made a quick trip to the emporium.”

“I feel badly that you’ve been spending money on me.”