Page 14 of His Wounded Heart

I took a deep breath and sucked back a wave of nausea. I shuffled all the pages together and shoved them into the file and plopped it onto Brantley’s disorganized desk.

“In here,” I called out.

“Darlin’ what are you doing in my office?” he asked with an indulgent smile.

“Somebody named Jim from Rykers stopped by. He said this contains all the originals and everybody has lost their memories?” That doesn’t sound right, but that’s what he said.

“Anything else?” Brantley asks.

“Yes, he said you’re good to go and he’ll send you his bill.”

“That’s really good news. Come here.” He held his arms wide, and I stepped into his embrace. Being held in his arms made me feel good. A man actually cared about me.

“Did you have time to fix me dinner?” he asked.

I shook my head against his chest. He sighed.

“Leo has a lot to answer for, doesn’t he know you’re mine now?” He crushed me closer.

“I still have to work. I need the money for my classes and apartment,” I protested.

“You need to quit work and quit school and move in here. I’ll take care of you.”

I sucked in a deep breath. Did that mean he was proposing?

“Now why don’t you go into the kitchen and whip something up. I’m tired, I’ll take a shower, and you can wow me with a grilled cheese.”

He was so thoughtful.

“Mama, can I have a glass of water?”

I shake my head. It takes a moment to come out of my trance and realize I am here in Jasper Creek and Bella is in the kitchen with me.

“Sure, Sweet Pea, let me get you one.”

I grab a glass out of the cupboard and get some water out of the fridge dispenser, then hand the small glass to Bella.

“Anything else waking you up?” I ask.

She shakes her head, her eyes sleepy. I take the empty glass from her, then follow her back to her bedroom. She crawls into bed.

“’Night, Mama.”

“Sweet dreams.” I press a kiss against her forehead. She is asleep by the time I’m at her door.

I go back to my little office. I finally work up the nerve to open the email, and there are just four words.

STAY AWAY, OR ELSE.

And for this I let perfectly good ice cream melt? What the hell? Like I’m ever going back to Nashville. I don’t care if my sisters offer me two years of free babysitting, which they already have. I still would never go back to that feather-fluffing city!

My hands are over my keyboard, ready to respond when it occurs to me I have no idea who sent this email.

Who?

And why now?

My fingers itch to ask who they are, but the logical side of my brain tells me not to touch it. Hell, I probably shouldn’t have opened it. It hadn’t gone through an email server that tags me to tell them if I opened it.