At first, Kurt had made excuses for the drastic changes. She needed time to adjust. The difference in the environment had placed a great deal of strain on her. She was an artist and, therefore, high-strung; he should expect some emotional ups and downs.

  Yet, her behavior only worsened. She started flirting with his employees and coworkers. She had strutted around the house, dressed in skimpy outfits, showing off her finely sculpted body. If Kurt dared suggest she wear something less revealing, she’d pick a fight and accuse him of irrational jealousy.

  He couldn’t win. Before long, he was living on a battlefield, never really sure when the land mine would detonate. That, most of all, had been the beginning of the end. Up to the age of ten, he’d been raised in an antagonistic household, and Kurt refused to tolerate constant discord in his own relationships.

  “May I be excused?” she asked.

  “Pardon?”

  Elizabeth’s voice, sounding small and downtrodden, snapped him back to the present. She’d never asked to be excused from the table before.

  “I’m sorry, Consuelo; the food is excellent, but I just can’t eat.” She placed a hand to her stomach, tears shimmering in her eyes.

  Guilt flicked through Kurt at the sight, then he reminded himself she was a superb actress. Tugging at his heartstrings was what she did best. Hardening his jaw as well as his heart, he nodded.

  She pushed back from the table, looking timid.

  Again, Kurt quelled the tender feelings rising in him. He scanned the drab dress she wore. It was not at all like something the flamboyant Elizabeth would have chosen, but then he reminded himself she might have purposely picked the baggy clothing to enlist his sympathies.

  Well, it wasn’t going to work. No matter how hard she might try, he absolutely would not allow himself to be tricked.

  “I’m going upstairs to lie down.” She cast him a pleading glance as if begging for his forgiveness, but Kurt avoided her gaze.

  The room breathed a collective sigh the minute the doors swung closed behind her. Her footsteps echoed on the stairs. As soon as she was out of earshot, everyone started talking at once.

  “Can you believe her gall?” Hub shook his head.

  “I don’t trust her.” Consuelo raised her chin.

  “Do you think she really has amnesia?” Jesse asked.

  “Kurt, you’re not getting any funny notions, are you?” Hub asked.

  Kurt blew out his breath. “Of course not.”

  “I think she’s faking,” Consuelo said.

  “Three neurologists say she’s not. That’s the only reason I agreed to let her come here.”

  Usually, Kurt wouldn’t feel obligated to justify himself to his friends, but they’d been through the wringer with him on this one and felt that he owed them an explanation.

  “Hey, Boss.” Hub raised his palms. “It’s your house.”

  “We just don’t want to see you hurt all over again,” Consuelo added, her smooth brow wrinkling.

  “I’m not hungry, either.” The food Kurt had managed to force down sat like slate in his stomach. “I’m going to the orchard.”

  Without waiting for a reply, Kurt left them to their meal and slipped out the back door. He tried not to think about Elizabeth, but despite his best intentions, the image of her, head down and wounded, stabbed through his heart.

  Chump. Fool. Rube. No matter how many names he called himself, he couldn’t stop the emotions tumbling through him, more relentless than a violent storm.

  What if she’d genuinely changed? What if she never got her memory back? What if...? Argh! Kurt slapped a palm against his forehead. Think about Grant Lewis; that should cool your jets, McNally.

  Elizabeth had destroyed a great partnership. After he’d caught the two of them in bed together, Grant had never been able to look him in the eyes. Gallantly, Grant had tried to take the blame for the situation, but Kurt knew who had orchestrated the whole thing. The indolent expression on Elizabeth’s face had told the real story. She’d had the nerve to insinuate her betrayal was his fault because he’d been spending too much time at the homeless shelter.

  Kurt growled under his breath at the memory. Yes! That’s what he needed to remember. Elizabeth’s callous disregard for his feelings.

  Stalking along the fence line, his mood darkened. His boots kicked up dirt, and his neck muscles corded in anger. He shoved his hands deep into his jeans’ pockets.

  Angus cattle grazed in the field to his left; flies droned lazily in the July heat, and white clouds drifted overhead. The scent of peaches hung in the air as sweet as a lover’s kiss.

  He squinted against the sun and looked around at the familiar sights and sounds of his ranch. The moonlighting sheriff’s deputy Hub had hired was doing a great job of keeping the reporters away. Or maybe something more newsworthy had happened, and they were off to a hotter story. Good riddance. He was happy to have his peace back. He loved this place. The home he loved like nothing else on earth.

  From the time he was a small boy, he’d longed to possess his own ranch. Sometimes that thin dream had been the only thing that helped him through each troubled day. He recalled hiding in his bedroom closet, far away from the screaming and fighting. He’d pretended he was riding horses, swimming in a stock tank, and swinging from grapevines. One day, he’d vowed, one day his dream would come true.

  And it had.

  He stopped and surveyed the orchard. Rows of peach trees loaded with ripe fruit bent gracefully toward the earth. Leaning one arm against a fence post, he told himself that his business, his philanthropic interests, and the ranch were enough for him. Kurt McNally had no use for that chaotic emotion called love. Elizabeth had burned him once, but no more.

  He brooded, his lips pressed into a tight line. Usually, he didn’t give in to despair, but the events that had brought Elizabeth back into his life had thrown him for a loop. Kneading his forehead, he wondered what he should do next.

  A prop plane buzzed in the distance; perspiration dampened his shirt. His gut churned. A soft, muffled noise garnered his attention, and Kurt cocked his head, listening.

  A sniffle? A sob?

  He scanned the area, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

  A hiccup.

  Kurt looked up. A pair of tanned legs dangled from the nearest peach tree. He moved forward, angling his head to peer beneath the sheltering branches.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “Go away.”

  “What are you doing in that peach tree?”

  “L...l...leave me alone.”

  Kurt stepped closer.

  She had a tissue pressed against her eyes. Her skirt tail was hiked up around her thighs. The white bandage wrapped around her head intensified her vulnerability.

  Dumbfounded, he stared. He could never, ever in his wildest dreams imagine the cool, sophisticated Elizabeth Destiny scaling a tree.

  “How did you get up there?”

  “I climbed.” Her tone indicated he was silly for asking.

  “Why?”

  “I wanted to be alone,” she sniffled, her cute little nose red, her eyes swollen. “So go away.”

  Elizabeth? Wanting to be alone? Even at the beginning of their relationship, when she was pretending to be everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, she’d hated to be alone. Elizabeth was most definitely a people person.

  Had the amnesia affected every aspect of her personality? She seemed different in so many ways. Much more susceptible. And delicate. Had her bone structure always been so small?

  Kurt reached up and plucked a peach from the tree. “Want a peach?” he offered. “You didn’t eat much.”

  She shook her head.

  He slipped a pocketknife from his jeans and split the red-orange fruit in two and pried out the pit. Stepping next to the tree, he lifted half the peach up to her.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” she asked suspiciously.

  He shrugged. “Maybe because you surprised me by climbing into that tree.”

  “What’s so unusual about climbing a tree?” She stuffed the tissue into the pocket of her dowdy flower print dress and took the peach half from him.

  “You’re not the tomboy type, Elizabeth.”

  “Beth,” she said firmly, her long, blond hair trailing over her shoulder, her lips curling around the succulent fruit.

  The sight did unexpected things to Kurt. Blood surged through his veins in a white-hot rush. As her teeth closed over the delicious tidbit, an odd lightheadedness washed over him.

  “Delicious,” she mumbled around a mouthful of peach as juice dripped from her lips.

  “Have the other half.” He reached up again, and this time their fingers connected, sending shock waves spiraling through him. Was it his imagination, or had the earth shifted?

  “Yum.”

  “I thought you hated peaches.”

  “Not anymore,” she said, finishing off the peach and happily licking her fingers. Most definitely an un-Elizabeth-like gesture. “I adore them.”

  “You really do have amnesia, don’t you?”

  She nodded. “I can’t remember hardly anything. When I try to force it, my mind feels foggy, and I get a headache.”

  “Dr. Freely said it could take weeks for your memory to return.”

  “She also said I might never remember.”

  “But hopefully you will.”

  Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and shivered. “I’m scared.”

  “It’ll be all right.”

  “I don’t feel like her.”

  Puzzled, Kurt frowned. “Who?”

  “Elizabeth Destiny.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She doesn’t think like I do.”

  “You’re talking about yourself in the third person.”

  “I can’t accurately describe it, but I feel like she is another person.”

  Oddly enough, Kurt did, too. This sweet-faced Beth was far different from the cold, aloof Elizabeth. Different even than Elizabeth had been at the start of their courtship when she played the part of naive ingenue to the hilt.

  This woman exuded a certain innocence that dwelled beyond surface appearance. An artlessness that seemed to bubble from her very soul. He marveled at the contrast. Could such a drastic alteration be possible? He’d have to read up on amnesia and find out.

  “Come on, Beth,” he said, surprised at how gentle his voice sounded to his own ears. “I’ll help you down.”

  Tree leaves brushed against his cheek as he leaned forward to wrap both hands around her slender waist. The erotic scent of peaches was almost overpowering. Her thin cotton dress whispered beneath his fingers, and he felt her rapid heartbeat vibrating throughout her tiny rib cage.

  Their eyes met. Her lips pursed into a startled circle. Crazily, his breath hung in his lungs. Suspended.

  “Upsadaisy.”

  With one fluid motion, he lifted her off the branch and swung her to the ground. A ripping noise tore the air. Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

  “Oh my gosh.” She reached behind her. “My dress!”

  “Turn around.”

  She did as he asked, her dress tail clutched in her hand.

  “Let me see the damage.”

  She let go.

  The garment was ripped up the back all the way to her rounded little derriere encased in white cotton panties.

  Since when had Elizabeth worn white cotton panties? She was the red silk thong type.

  Something about those plain, guileless panties affected Kurt much more profound than any lace garter or satin teddy. He swallowed a groan of desire. Heaven’s above, he couldn’t fall victim to runaway lust. Because with Elizabeth, that’s all this intense physical attraction could be—lust.

  She clutched her dress tail again with a tentative hand. “Is it badly torn?”

  “Pretty bad. That’s the only dress you’ve got, isn’t it?”

  Her curls bobbed when she nodded.

  Kurt exhaled between clenched teeth. “I gave away the things you left at the ranch. There’s nothing here for you to wear.”

  “Consuelo told me.” Her fingers worried the material. “What am I going to do now?”

  Running a palm across his mouth, Kurt tried his best to stop thinking about the sight of her firm, tanned flesh, and those cute white cotton panties.

  “I know you hate to wear blue jeans...”

  “I do?”

  Kurt shrugged. “You used to. Anyway, maybe Consuelo will loan you a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I’ll drive you into Rascal so you can buy some clothes.”

  Elizabeth bit her bottom lip.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have any money. I was told my purse was stolen while I was unconscious.”

  “Don’t worry. I owe you for giving away your things without your permission.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, I’m not going to let you parade around the ranch in a shredded dress. Of course, you used to wear much skimpier outfits than that.”

  Elizabeth rubbed the back of her arms as if cold. “I hate what I keep hearing about myself. I have such a hard time believing how I used to be.”

  “Believe it.”

  “You’ll never know how sorry I am.”

  “Sorry doesn’t fix the pain, Elizabeth.”

  “I know.”

  Her face clouded as if she were about to start crying again. Kurt swore under his breath at the current of sympathy rippling through him. If his idiotic fascination for this vastly improved Elizabeth didn’t ease up soon, he’d have to find her new lodgings and pronto. He could not, would not, put himself through the torment of loving her again.

  “Let’s go,” he said abruptly and without waiting for her to follow, stalked through the field as fast as he could.

  Chapter Seven

  Bonnie, who was dressed in a pair of Consuelo’s faded blue jeans and a sleeveless yellow blouse, sat beside Kurt, her hands clutched in her lap. She hadn’t said a word on the short trip into Rascal, his very nearness left her speechless.

  What on earth could she say to the man she’d treated so shabbily? Especially when she couldn’t recall her dastardly deeds.

  She darted a quick look in his direction. His mouth was turned down at the corners. He’d mussed his hair by repeatedly raking his fingers through it. Dried grass clung to his pant legs, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, favoring her with a tantalizing view of his firmly muscled chest.

  Bonnie gulped and averted her eyes. She had to stop this. He’d made it perfectly clear there was no repairing their relationship. She’d only torture herself by believing a reconciliation was possible.

  Kurt pulled his Jeep to a stop outside a small dress shop on the square across the street from the quaint courthouse built sometime in the late 1800s from the look of the architecture.

  Bonnie turned her head and squinted, glancing around for anything that looked familiar, but nothing strummed a chord. As far as she was concerned, she’d never set foot in this town before today.

  A large banner suspended between the intersection signal lights announced the annual Presidio County Food and Wine Festival taking place the upcoming weekend.

  Heat waves shimmered off the asphalt as they got out of the Jeep and headed up the sidewalk. Perspiration plastered her hair to the back of her neck. Silently, Kurt held the door open and waited for her to enter the store. A welcoming blast from a laboring air conditioner greeted them along with the merry tinkle of a small brass bell perched overhead.

  Bonnie blinked, her eyes adjusting to the change from bright sunshine to dim fluorescent lighting. The small store possessed the dry, airy aroma of accumulated fabric. Rows of dresses lined the cement walls, while blouses and slacks rode garment carousels parked in the middle of the creaky hardwood floor.

  “I know you’d much prefer to be in San Antonio and raid the chic shops,” Kurt said, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable. “But you’re going to have to make do with dated, small-town fashion.”

  “Oh, this is fine!” Bonnie said, lightly fingering a frilly pink sundress.

  A cynical sneer lifted his mouth.

  “Really it is,” she assured him.

  “I find that hard to imagine. I remember you once spent ten thousand dollars in an afternoon at Nordstrom.”

  “Well, I don’t remember that,” Bonnie snapped. “I’d appreciate it if you’d judge me on my current behavior, not the past.”

  “Sorry, no can do.”

  Just when Bonnie was about to retort, a perky salesgirl bounced from the back of the shop. “May I help you, folks?”

  “Yeah,” Kurt said, hooking a thumb at Bonnie. “She needs a new wardrobe.”

  “Oh my gosh!” The girl squealed, and her eyes rounded. “You’re her. You’re him. I mean you’re them!”

  Unnerved, Bonnie lifted a hand to her throat.

  The girl pointed her finger, her compact body wriggling with excitement. “Sarah Jane, come quick! You’re not going to believe who’s here!”

  Kurt shifted his weight, winced, and raised a finger to his lips. “Shh.”

  But it was too late, Sarah Jane poked her head out of the storage room. “What is it, Tammy?”

  “You’re gonna die.” Tammy sprinted over to grab Sarah Jane by the hand. “Elizabeth Destiny and Kurt McNally are standing in our store!”

  “No way,” Sarah Jane said.

  “Way!” Tammy sang.

  “They can’t be. They broke up. I saw it on TMZ.” Sarah Jane stood on tiptoes to peek over the garment racks at them.

  “You believe those gossip shows or your own eyes? I tell you it’s them.”

  “Let’s get out of here,” Kurt whispered under his breath. “We can try the store on the other side of town.” He looped his arm through Bonnie’s and tried to drag her out the door, but she dug in her heels.

  “Running off would be rude.”

 

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