In Love with John Doe. Cindy Kirk

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      Thirty minutes later, Lexi sat back, frustration coursing through her veins. “How can they all be full?”

      The words had barely left her lips when Rachel breezed into the room. Her gaze slid from Lexi to John. “What’s the verdict? Where’s your new home?”

      “It’s seems,” John said, bestowing that hundred-watt smile on the pretty nurse, “that there are no rooms at any of the inns.”

      Rachel’s eyes widened. She turned to Lexi. “Seriously?”

      Lexi raked a weary hand through her hair. “It’s the storm. Travelers who were going to move on decided to stay. Others who were passing through stopped and got their rooms early.”

      Rachel’s cornflower-blue eyes began to dance. “Surely there has to be some place that wants him.”

      “Hey, I’m right here in the room,” John shot back. “Thanks for making me feel like a loser.”

      The two laughed and Lexi felt a twinge of something that felt an awful lot like jealousy, but couldn’t be.

      Still, the nurse looked especially pretty today. Lexi wondered if John preferred blondes. Not that his taste in women mattered to her. Besides, for all anyone knew he could be married with a couple of kids.

      “I’ve got an idea.” Rachel turned to Lexi. “What about Wildwoods?”

      Lexi shook her head. “When I left for work this morning, all the rooms and cabins were full.”

      “Mrs. Landers had been staying in the lodge while her husband was here,” Rachel said. “The doctor dismissed him early this morning and they headed for home.”

      “Wildwoods?” John cocked his head.

      “It’s the B and B where Lexi lives,” Rachel said. “Just outside of Wilson. About ten miles from here.”

      John’s brows pulled together. He shifted his gaze to Lexi. “You live at a bed-and-breakfast?”

      “That’s right,” Lexi said easily. “And I cook there on the weekends, too.”

      When she’d been a little girl standing on a stepstool helping her mother prepare meals, she’d never imagined the skills she’d learned would come in so handy. In exchange for low rent she prepared gourmet meals on weekends and holidays. It cost a lot to live in Jackson Hole and a social worker’s salary only went so far.

      “Sounds like you’re a busy woman.” John’s gaze lingered. Instead of pity or condescension she saw admiration and something else. The pure masculine appreciation lighting his dark eyes took her by surprise. It had been a long time since a man had looked at her that way.

      “So, are you going to call Coraline?” Rachel asked.

      “Right now,” Lexi said.

      Coraline Coufal, the owner and proprietor, answered on the second ring. Lexi explained the situation and then held her breath. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or distressed when she learned there was one room still available.

      “We’ll take it.” Lexi flipped her phone shut and smiled at John. “Congratulations. Somebody wants you after all.”

       Chapter Two

      By the time Lexi clocked out at noon, thousands of tiny snowflakes filled the air. John stood with Rachel under the front entrance overhang while Lexi retrieved her car from the nearby employee lot.

      John shifted from one foot to the other, feeling useless. Though his past was still blank, something told him Lexi wasn’t the only one who liked to keep busy. “I could have gone with her.”

      “If you did, I’d be in trouble. Hospital policy dictates you get picked up here.” A brisk north wind slapped them in the face. Rachel shoved her hands into her coat pockets and shivered. “There’s her car now.”

      An older model Subaru pulled up and stopped. The nurse reached for the door handle, but he’d had enough coddling the past twenty-four hours to last a lifetime.

      “I’ve got it.” He opened the back hatch and tossed his duffel bag inside before shifting his attention back to Rachel. He held out his hand. “Thanks for everything.”

      “Four words of advice.” Her mittened hand closed around his. “No more back country.”

      “Don’t worry.” John laughed. “I learned my lesson.”

      He opened the car door and slid into the front seat.

      Lexi cast him a curious glance. “What did Rachel say that was so funny?”

      “She told me no more open gates.” He snapped his seat belt in place. “No worries on that account. It was my first time and it will definitely be my last.”

      The moment the words left his lips, he paused.

      Lexi pulled out onto the street in front of the hospital and cast him a sideways glance. “You remember going through the gate?”

      He nodded as the memory unfurled. “I stopped and read the sign.”

      “Was anyone with you?”

      “I don’t know.” He leaned against the seat and closed his eyes against the sudden pain in his head.

      Memories were there—fragmented images that made little sense and gave no insight into his past, hovering just out of reach, taunting him.

      “The memory may not be as much as you hoped for,” Lexi said, almost as if she’d read his mind and sensed his frustration. “But it’s definitely a start. My father used to say that sometimes you have to start with baby steps to reach a goal.”

      John latched on to the change in topic. At this point trying to pluck anything from the inky darkness of his mind was pointless. “Your father sounds like a wise man.”

      “A wonderfully wise man.” Lexi’s lips lifted into a smile that lit up her entire face.

      “Tell me about him,” John urged.

      “Why?”

      He glanced out the window. Snow already covered the sidewalks and streets in a thin blanket of white. “Perhaps hearing stories about your father will jog some memories of my own family.”

      “My mother died of cancer when I was twelve.” Lexi kept her eyes on the highway and the blowing snow. “I was an only child and we were very close. I didn’t know how I could go on without her.”

      He could almost feel her pain. Had he ever experienced such a devastating loss? It didn’t feel like it, though he couldn’t be sure.

      “After the funeral, I didn’t want to get out of bed,” Lexi continued, her eyes hooded. “But my father told me we’d get through this together. We’d take it one day at a time. He made me attend school. He forced himself to work. We went through the motions until we both felt like living again.”

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