Lost Identity. Leona Karr

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      “I wish we could,” she answered wistfully as a cloud descended on her face, erasing the brightness that had been in her eyes only moments before.

      Andrew realized immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. Even in jest, talking about the future was painful for her. He eased down beside her on the couch. Maybe the time had come to tell her about the call he’d made to Havengate Hospital.

      “Trish, there’s something we need to talk about.”

      Instantly her sense of well-being took a dive. Here it comes, she thought. He’s going to tell me it’s time to move on. He put his arm around her shoulder, but she sat stiffly beside him.

      “All right, let’s talk,” she said as steadily as the quivering in her stomach would allow.

      “I talked with a Dr. Duboise about you and—”

      “What? You didn’t!” Her voice was strident. “You promised!”

      “I said that I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your safety, and I didn’t.” He kept his tone even and controlled. “Let me explain.”

      “I trusted you,” she lashed out, and started to get up, but he pulled her back down.

      “Just listen, please.” Putting his hands firmly on her shoulders, he looked directly into her rounded eyes. He could see the wild pulse beating in her neck. “There’s a Havengate Hospital near here, and they treat amnesia patients. You need professional help, Trish.”

      “And you want me out of your hair,” she flared angrily and tried to push him away.

      “Trish, you can’t do this on your own.”

      “If you’d just give me a little time,” she pleaded. “After all, it’s only been three days.”

      “And what if it becomes three months? What then? Are you willing to suffer not knowing who you are, and what happened to drive away your memory for months and perhaps even years?” He softened his voice. “You’re a beautiful young woman, and you deserve better than that.”

      “But what if someone finds me before…before my memory comes back?” She swallowed hard, feeling as if she’d suddenly been swept up in a whirlwind over which she had no control.

      “Dr. Duboise has promised complete secrecy about your presence there.”

      “But what about payment? They’ll admit me to a place like that out of the goodness of their hearts?”

      “Almost,” he admitted with a reassuring smile. He could tell that her initial defensiveness was easing, and he dropped his hands from her shoulder. “Havengate is supported by a philanthropic trust fund. The hospital will accept you without payment with the belief that after you recover your identity, you’ll be able to settle with them financially. According to Dr. Duboise they take many amnesia patients on that basis. So you see, there’s nothing to stop you from getting the best treatment available. And I’ll be close enough to make sure you’re staying out of trouble.”

      She searched his face and felt all the fight go out of her body. Was he making her an idle promise? She couldn’t tell. What if he left her there alone for heaven only knew how long? For the first time, she considered the possibility that he might not want to have anything to do with her once he found out who she truly was. She wondered if he’d been thinking the same thing and was making this move to get her out of his life before the truth came out.

      “All right,” she said stiffly. “Whatever you say.”

      Chapter Four

      Trish checked into the hospital with a small valise of new clothes and personal effects that Andrew had insisted upon purchasing. She’d offered him her watch to pawn, but he had refused.

      “Your credit’s good with me. I’ll just add the purchases to your running tab of three nights lodging and gourmet meals,” he teased, but his levity had failed to lessen the tension between them. He’d been prepared for her backing out even as they made the drive to the hospital. She sat stiffly in the car, looking straight ahead, and barely nodding to acknowledge his attempt at making conversation.

      When they had arrived at Havengate, he shot anxious glances at her pallid face to see how she was reacting to the cluster of pink stucco buildings that were scattered on the landscaped grounds, looking very much like a small college campus. He knew she felt betrayed by his insistence that she leave his house and check into the hospital. He only hoped that the decision would prove to be the right one, and, in time, she would thank him for it. He would do everything he could to make sure she didn’t feel abandoned.

      “What do you think, Trish?” he asked, acutely needing reassurance that she didn’t feel he’d stabbed her in the back.

      “It looks—” she tried to find the right word.

      “Safe?” he supplied, hopefully.

      She managed a wan smile. “Yes, safe.”

      His anxious expression had made her lie. She felt anything but safe as she got out of the car, and waited for him to take her small bag out of the back seat. If there’d been anywhere to run to, she would have taken off in a flash.

      As if reading her mind, he said gently. “Easy does it, Trish. If you hate the place, we’ll find something different. Okay?”

      “I hate it.”

      He laughed and shook his head. “Not so fast. How about a forty-eight-hour trial?”

      “Okay, forty-eight hours.”

      Andrew slipped his arm through hers as they walked together into the main building, and she drew strength from the length of his warm firm body brushing hers. She wondered how she could bear to be parted from him for even the two days that she’d promised to stay.

      Andrew held his breath that everything would go quickly and smoothly at registration. He had called ahead and talked with Dr. Duboise. The doctor had assured him that everything would be ready for Trish’s admittance.

      A pleasant middle-aged woman at the reception desk nodded when Andrew gave his name. “Oh, yes, Mr. Davis. We’ve been expecting you.” She smiled at Trish, and put out her hand. “I’m Ms. Sloan. We have a nice room all ready for you, Trish.”

      The use of her name and the warm clasp of the woman’s hand sent a momentary flicker of relief through Trish. She had expected to be treated like some poor victim who couldn’t remember who she was instead of a person with all her faculties.

      “Would you like to look over the premises before you settle in?” Ms. Sloan asked in an easy, friendly manner.

      Andrew decided that the question must be a routine one. Apparently it was the hospital’s policy to give people a chance to change their minds, he thought, holding his breath as he searched Trish’s face to see what her response was going to be. Would she take advantage of the momentary reprieve and head back to the car?

      Fortunately, there was only a slight hesitation before she said, “No, thank you. I’d rather go to my room.”

      “Fine.” СКАЧАТЬ