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He sat down at the chrome table. “What did he find out yesterday? Anything?”

“I don’t know. I only heard him come home. I didn’t get up.” Steam rose from the cup she set before him. “Are you hungry enough for some bacon and eggs?”

“Sure.”

“How would you like your eggs? Over easy, sunny side up, or scrambled?”

“Over easy, I guess,” he replied, irritated to find he didn’t even know how he liked his eggs fixed.

Soon bacon sizzled in its own grease, filling the kitchen with its distinctive aroma. Like so many things, the smell was familiar, but it triggered no memory, only more questions that probed for one.

He watched as Hattie broke two eggs in a bowl and deftly slipped them into a hot skillet. With a pair of tongs, she lifted the bacon strips from another iron skillet and laid them on a paper towel to drain. She checked the eggs again, then glanced his way, catching him looking at her.

“I’m not used to people watching me so closely when I cook,” she remarked with a touch of amusement. “Are you that hungry, or haven’t you ever seen anyone fix breakfast before?”

“Everything you have done is familiar to me. I must have watched a woman cook before, but I don’t know who she was.”

“It could have been your mother or your wife.” Hattie scooped up the eggs with a spatula and slipped them onto a plate. She carried it and the platter of bacon to the table, setting both in front of him.

“What makes you so sure I’m married?” He didn’t feel married. Laredo and the mirror had said he was up in years. But he wasn’t so old that he didn’t find a woman like Hattie attractive.

“I can’t imagine some woman letting you get away,” she informed him with a dry smile. “Although I doubt any woman married to you would have an easy time of it.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked, not sure what she meant by it.

“For one thing, you’re too used to being the one in command,” Hattie replied. She hesitated, measuring him with a long glance. “And I suspect you keep your own counsel. If there is a problem, you don’t talk about it until you have a solution. Most women prefer to be a part of that decision process since it will affect their lives as well. It can be very irritating to be informed of the problem and the solution after the fact.”

“I suppose it would.” He reached for a piece of toast.

“Out of curiosity, Duke,” Hattie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table opposite him, “how do you plan on finding out who you are?”

“I’m not sure.” He broke the egg yolk with his fork and dipped a corner of the toast into it.

“You must have a few ideas.” She spooned some jam onto a piece of toast.

“A few. It will depend on what Laredo was able to find out last night, if anything.” An instant later, he realized her game and sent her an amused glance. “Are you happy that I proved your point and refused to discuss my problem?”

“You were slower to catch on than I thought you would be. Your head must be hurting.”

“Not as bad as yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything stronger than aspirin for it.”

“I’ll survive.” He took another bite of eggs and chewed. “What kind of operation do you run here?”

“What do you mean?” Hattie frowned.

“Laredo said you have a small ranch. Is it a cow-and-calf outfit?”

“Do you know something about a cow-calf operation?” She studied him closely, her dark eyes bright with interest.

He thought about that a minute. “I guess I do.”

“Those cowboy boots aren’t just for show, then,” Hattie observed before answering his original question. “In my position, I can’t really afford the financial risk that goes with ranching. I need an income that is a bit more reliable. I worked a deal with a local rancher to run his cattle on my place. He pays me rent for the pasture and labor costs for looking after his stock as well as reimburses me for any hay or feed.”

“It’s not an uncommon arrangement. I understand quite a few small ranchers are opting for deals like that. It’s a bit like sharecropping in the old days,” he heard himself say. He didn’t understand how he could have knowledge of such things yet no recollection of his personal identity.

“It keeps the wolves away from the door,” Hattie replied.

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