His Marriage to Remember

Three



After a sleepless night in one of the guest bedrooms, Bria was up before daylight. Being back at Sugar Creek Ranch was bittersweet for her. She loved the big sprawling, two-story home Sam had built when they first got married, loved to sit on the porch with him to watch the sunset and listen to the crickets chirp and an occasional coyote howl as night descended.

That’s why she had become so upset when Sam kissed her. It reminded her too much of the early days of their marriage when they had spent every moment they could together on that swing, watching sunsets as they shared their hopes and dreams and made plans for their future. But that had been before Sam’s stock-contracting company had become so successful and he started traveling all over the country supplying livestock for the various rodeos. In the past two years, more times than not, she had sat on the porch by herself to watch the sun sink behind the ridge surrounding the ranch, waited for Sam’s nightly phone call from whatever town he was in to tell her good-night and slept alone in that big bed upstairs in the master suite.

Not having to worry about money or paying bills was nice, but it wasn’t everything. Having her husband home with her, to talk to about how their day had gone and to hold her at night would have meant far more to her than going from being financially secure to being independently wealthy.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the sizzling bacon she was frying for his breakfast. When she’d checked on him earlier, he was still sleeping peacefully. She fleetingly wondered if he had awakened some time during the night and noticed that she wasn’t lying next to him. She doubted it. If he had, she was certain he would have come looking for her.

As she placed the crispy strips of bacon on a plate, then scrambled a couple of eggs, she couldn’t help worrying. Last night Sam had been so exhausted, he hadn’t noticed that she had gone to bed in another room. But as he started feeling better and regained his strength, he was bound to question why she wasn’t sleeping with him. What was she going to tell him when he did?

She wasn’t going to lie, but she couldn’t tell him the truth either. Mentioning that they had been in the process of getting a divorce when the accident occurred certainly fell into the category of things that would cause him stress. But trying to do everything she could to keep his stress level down was driving hers right off the chart.

When she put the finishing touches on Sam’s breakfast and placed it on a tray, she decided not to think about it until she had to. Maybe by the end of the day an idea would present itself that would adequately explain why she was going to bed down the hall. She wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate what would happen if it didn’t.

Carrying the tray upstairs, she decided Sam probably wasn’t going to be overly happy about her serving him breakfast in bed. No doubt he would misinterpret the gesture and think she viewed him as feeble or some other such nonsense. His pride and self-confidence were stronger than anyone’s she had ever known and two of the many things that had drawn her to him in the beginning. Unfortunately, as time went on, those very qualities had become a huge obstacle and one of the main reasons she had felt she had no other choice but to leave him.

But his accident had changed that—if only temporarily. For the first time in the five years they had been together, she actually felt as if Sam needed her as more than the object of his affections. It was just a shame that the feeling had to come at the end of their marriage, instead of being an integral part of their relationship from the beginning.

When she opened the bedroom door, Bria placed the tray of food on the dresser then walked over to the side of the bed to wake him. “Sam? Would you like to get up? I brought your breakfast.”

Before she realized that he was already awake, he reached up to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her down on top of him. “I’m perfectly capable of walking the distance to the kitchen to eat,” he said, rolling them to their sides to face each other. “But what I want for breakfast isn’t found in the kitchen. She’s right here in my arms.”

The smoldering light in his dark blue eyes stole her breath and caused a flutter of anticipation deep in her lower belly. “I—I thought we settled this yesterday evening. I told you it’s not a—”

“I know, it’s not a good time.” He gave her a lazy grin. “But making love isn’t just about having sex, sweetheart.” He brushed her lips with his. “It’s also kissing.” He slid his hand beneath the tail of her yellow T-shirt. “And touching,” he finished as his mouth covered hers at the same time he cupped her breast in his callused palm.

A lazy heat began to flow through Bria as Sam deepened the kiss to explore and tease with a thoroughness that caused her heart to skip several beats. She knew she was playing a fool’s game and that nothing but heartache would come of allowing him to continue. She told herself that he thought they were still a couple and short of telling him about the divorce, she didn’t have a lot of choice. But deep down she knew better. She simply loved the way he was making her feel.

Fortunately for her, his cell phone on the bedside table rang at the same moment Sam moved his hand to unfasten the front clasp of her bra. As he cursed and reached for the phone to quiet the incessant noise, Bria seized the opportunity to roll to the opposite side of the mattress and get out of bed.

She watched him check the caller ID before taking the call. “Your timing sucks swamp water, little brother,” Sam growled impatiently. “This had better be good.”

While he reassured Nate that he was feeling a lot better now that he was out of the hospital and back home, Bria walked over to pick up the breakfast tray. “Your brother was up earlier than usual,” she said, carrying it over to the bed as Sam ended the call and placed the phone back on the nightstand.

“I’m betting he hasn’t gone to sleep yet.” Sam shook his head. “I’ve told him that he needs to use some of that fortune he’s won riding the rough stock to buy a ranch, then find himself a good woman like I did and settle down. But that wild streak in him is a mile wide.”

Bria couldn’t argue with Sam’s assessment of his younger brother. She loved her brother-in-law dearly, but for as long as she had known him, Nate’s escapades with women had been legendary. He loved the ladies and they loved him.

“I told you I could make it to the kitchen on my own steam,” Sam said, scowling at the tray as he started to get out of bed.

“Last night was an indication that you still need to take it easy,” she said, handing him the tray to keep from dumping it in his lap as she would have liked. “And whether you like it or not, I enjoy doing things for you.”

His stubborn pride was beginning to grate on her already frayed nerves, but she didn’t want to upset him. The whole point of her moving back to the ranch temporarily was to keep him calm and hopefully speed up the recovery of his memory, not prolong the amnesia. The sooner he remembered the events of the past six months, the sooner she could get on with the rest of her life. And if she kept reminding herself of that fact, she might be able to avoid throttling him.

“What happened out on the porch last night was a fluke,” he groused, clearly irritated that she had brought up the incident. He tried to hand the tray back to her, but she ignored him. “I’m going to take a shower and get dressed, then—”

“Please, Sam, I don’t want to argue.” Reaching for the pillows, she took her time propping them up between him and the headboard in an effort to stay calm. If she didn’t, she just might take one of them and bop him with it. “Sit back, enjoy your breakfast and then take a shower.”

When he set the tray on the bed, then stood up, anger and resentment threatened to put an end to her resolution not to argue with him. “I wish just once you would let me feel like I’m your wife and let me do something for you. It would be a refreshing change to feel as if you needed me for more than making love,” she said before she could stop herself.

He frowned. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Bria knew that if she didn’t put some distance between them she would end up saying more than he was ready to hear. “I’ll take this to the kitchen,” she said, picking up the tray. “I’d ask you to wait until I return before you get into the shower in case you become light-headed, but you wouldn’t listen and I’m tired of trying to convince you to follow doctor’s orders.”

“I don’t need—”

“Save it, Sam,” she said as she walked to the door to take his breakfast downstairs. “I’ve already heard it more times than I care to count.”

* * *

Standing in the shower, Sam frowned as he tried to figure out why Bria was so upset. What had she meant by that comment about wanting him to let her feel like his wife?

He could remember her mentioning it a few times in the past couple of years, but he hadn’t understood it then any more than he did now. Did fussing over him make her feel more like a wife? Or did she think she wanted him to sit flat on his rear and let her do everything for him?

If so, she was in for a huge letdown. He wasn’t going to let any woman take care of him. That wasn’t what a real man did.

From the moment he knew he wanted to marry her he had worked his ass off to make sure he could provide her with the best life had to offer. He had done everything he possibly could to see that she had all she could ever want or need. Wasn’t that what a husband was supposed to do? What more did she want from him?

He missed how things had been when they first got married, the time they spent together, just as much as she did, but it couldn’t be helped. He had tried telling her time and again that everything he did, every minute he spent out on the rodeo circuit, was for her and the family they were hoping to have. Why couldn’t she see that?

A sudden throbbing at his temple caused him to squeeze his eyelids shut and steady himself against the tiled wall of the shower. The image of Bria, tears running down her cheeks, appeared behind his closed eyes.

“I needed my husband with me when I lost the baby, Sam,” she said, her voice filled with anguish. “I needed you to hold me and tell me that everything was going to be all right. But you weren’t here. You’re never here. You’re always out on the road somewhere and I’m here alone.”

Sam opened his eyes and felt as if he had taken a sucker punch to the gut. The snippet of memory was brief, but he knew as surely as he knew his own name that it was all too real. Bria had been pregnant and suffered a miscarriage.

His chest tightened and he had to stop for a minute to take a big gulp of air as a keen sense of loss for the baby they had both wanted so much coursed through him. He had fathered a child and no matter that it had been lost early in the pregnancy, he had cared deeply for the tiny life created from his and Bria’s love for each other.

Sam tried desperately to remember what had happened, why she had lost the baby and exactly where he had been. But the more he tried to force himself to recall what had taken place, the more frustrated he became. For the life of him he couldn’t remember when Bria had become pregnant or how far along she had been. Had it only been a few weeks ago or had she been pregnant when she bought the early home-pregnancy test?

He took a deep breath. It came as no surprise that he had been out on the road somewhere with the rodeo company when it happened. That was what he did, how he made their living. He thought she understood that.

As he continued to think about it, a heavy yoke of guilt settled across his shoulders, as well as the accompanying shame. He hadn’t returned home right away and that was something he didn’t think he could ever forgive himself for doing. His pride hadn’t allowed him to be there for her when she needed him most. But he had to wait until he was certain he could face her without allowing her to see how the loss of their child had affected him. If he hadn’t, she would have known immediately that she had married a weak, inept man who wasn’t nearly as strong as she thought he was.

Turning off the spray of warm water, he grabbed a towel and quickly dried off. As he pulled on his boxer briefs and a pair of jeans, he wondered how he was going to let her know that he had remembered their loss without causing Bria any more emotional pain than she had already been through. It was no wonder she had been on edge and not quite herself lately. His run-in with that brindle bull had only added to the upset she had already been going through trying to come to terms with the miscarriage.

Walking into the bedroom, he sat on the bench at the end of the bed and reached for his boots, but stopped short when he realized how many times in the past few days he had made references to them trying to become pregnant. He cursed himself for his faulty memory and the pain he must have put Bria through each time he mentioned it.

Could that have been the real reason she made the remark about not feeling like his wife? Did she view his comments as purposely hurtful and insensitive?

Sam shook his head as he pulled on his boots. He didn’t think that was the case. Bria was more reasonable than that. She knew he hadn’t been able to remember about the baby and wouldn’t have been so casual with his remarks about making her pregnant if he had. No, there was something else going on with her and he intended to find out what it was.

He stood up and, putting on a chambray shirt, began fastening the snaps as he walked out of the bedroom toward the stairs. But as he started down the steps, he paused to stare at the blank space where several pictures had always been. What had happened to them?

When he and Bria got married, the first thing she had done was designate it as the wall where all family photos were to be hung. He had been so tired the night before, he hadn’t noticed them being gone, but he sure as hell noticed it now. Their wedding photo, along with pictures of his brothers and Bria’s family, were conspicuously absent. What else had changed in the past several months? he wondered as he continued to the kitchen.

“Bria, what did you do with all the pictures on the wall by the stairs?”

“I took them down,” she said without further explanation. Her back was to him, but he could tell by the set of her slender shoulders that she still wasn’t happy with him.

Pulling out the chair at the head of the table, he sat down in front of the plate of food she had brought back to the kitchen. “When did you take them down?”

“It’s been a while.”

Sam frowned. Trying to get answers out of her was like trying to pull teeth. “Was there a reason?”

“I thought they would look better somewhere else.” She poured him a fresh cup of coffee and brought it over to the table. “While you eat breakfast I’m going upstairs to make the bed. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

As he watched her leave the room, he decided not to discuss what little bit of memory he had recovered about the baby. Bria wasn’t in the best frame of mind and he didn’t want to upset her further. Besides, if his memory was starting to return, maybe he would remember more details about what happened and have a better idea of how to approach the subject when they did talk.

He picked up his fork and started to take a bite of the scrambled eggs, but thinking about her accusations upstairs caused him to frown. Why didn’t she think he needed her for more than making love?

His appetite suddenly deserting him, he placed the fork back on the plate and picked up his coffee mug. How did she want him to be dependent on her? Why would any woman want a man like that?

Sam shook his head. He wasn’t sure, but hell would freeze over before he became a sorry excuse for a man like his biological father, Joe Rafferty, had been.

Staring over the rim of his cup, Sam rarely thought about his life before he went to live on the Last Chance Ranch. He wasn’t proud of where he came from or what he had done to survive after his mother died, and as Hank always said, the past was history and couldn’t be changed, so it was best not to waste time mulling it over. But occasionally, when he did allow himself to think about his life before entering the foster care system, Sam couldn’t help wondering how he and Nate would have turned out if the authorities hadn’t stepped in after their irresponsible father abandoned them.

Of course, when their mother was alive, their lives hadn’t been all that bad. They had been dirt poor, but Susan Rafferty had never let her sons know it. She had seen to it that they had everything they needed. They hadn’t realized it at the time, but she had paid a high price for that. Working sometimes twelve hours a day, seven day a week, just to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads, she had worked herself into an early grave while their father sat around making excuses why he had to quit his latest job and why he couldn’t find another one.

“Sam, did you hear me?” Bria asked, bringing him out of his introspection and back to the present.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Lost in thought, he hadn’t realized she had come back downstairs.

“I asked if you’d like to go for a walk down by the creek after you finish breakfast.” She smiled. “I thought you might like to do some fishing while I read.”

“That sounds pretty good,” he said, nodding. “Anything is better than just sitting around.” He was glad to see her mood had improved a little and that he was apparently out of the doghouse for the time being.

She pointed to his untouched plate. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“I told you upstairs what I wanted for breakfast,” he said, grinning as he took a sip from the cup he held. “But since that’s not on the menu, I think I’ll just settle for this cup of coffee.”

She nodded. “Very wise choice, Mr. Rafferty.”

* * *

As they walked the short distance to the creek behind the barn, Bria watched to make sure Sam wasn’t becoming overly tired. She could tell he was feeling a lot better, but there was still the possibility of him having a bit of vertigo and although he would never admit it, he tired easily.

Sighing, she thought about their earlier disagreement and chastised herself for bringing up things that they had argued about for the past couple of years with no resolution. There was really no point in revisiting them, because he couldn’t seem to get what she was trying to tell him and probably never would. But she had been so frustrated with his stubbornness and refusal to admit that he might need her help, she had verbally lashed out before she could stop herself. That was something she couldn’t let happen again. He had already questioned her several times since coming home from the hospital about what was going on and she wasn’t sure how many more times she could keep her cool and dance around telling him.

She glanced up at his handsome profile. Sam certainly wasn’t making it easy for her, either. There was obstinate and then there was Sam Rafferty obstinate. He managed to take pigheadedness to a whole new level and could no doubt push Job past his limit of patience.

That’s why Sam hadn’t realized, and she wasn’t going to tell him, that after taking his breakfast to the kitchen, she had gone back upstairs to wait outside the bathroom until he finished his shower. Nor did he know that she had been standing in the hall just out of sight to make sure he navigated the stairs without problems. He might like to think that except for his memory he was almost back to normal, but she knew better. If the truth was known, he did, too. But he would never let on. It would be the ultimate sin for him to admit to any kind of weakness, even if it was a temporary condition.

“Why don’t we sit down under the cottonwood tree,” she asked, pulling a blanket from the picnic basket she had packed before they left the house. It was close enough to the creek for Sam to fish and provided a nice amount of shade to protect them from the early-summer sun.

“It looks like it’s going to be a hot one today,” he said, putting his fishing pole down to take the blanket from her. Spreading it out, he nodded toward the creek. “Any self-respecting catfish is going to be lying in a hole in the creek bed where it’s cooler.”

“You aren’t even going to try?” she asked, setting the basket down. “I thought you liked to fish.”

“I do. And I never said I wasn’t going to try,” he said, grinning. “I’m just warning you not to be surprised when I cuss a blue streak, vow never to go fishing again, then give up and take a nap.”

She laughed. “In other words, we won’t be having fish for supper tonight.”

“It’s highly unlikely, sweetheart,” he said, lowering himself to the edge of the blanket.

His easy grin and the teasing conversation caused a longing inside Bria that she did her best to ignore. This was a side of Sam she hadn’t seen often enough in the past couple of years and she had missed it.

Watching him bait the hook with some kind of big, ugly bug, she rested her back against the tree and opened her book. Getting lost in a good story was much easier than allowing herself to get wrapped up in memories of what Sam used to be like or the fantasy that there was a chance for them in the future. As soon as the doctor released Sam to go back to work, whether his memory had returned or not, she knew he would revert to his workaholic ways, go back out on the road, and she would end up spending the majority of her time alone. She sighed. It was inevitable because he had already indicated that he intended to go back to work as soon as possible and, as he put it, “everything would go back to normal.”

Thirty minutes later, when Sam put down his fishing pole, took off his hat, then lay back to put his head in her lap, Bria jumped. She had finally managed to become involved in the story she was reading and hadn’t realized he was giving up on trying to catch a fish.

“I didn’t hear you start swearing or vow that you’ll never go fishing again,” she said, cursing the breathless tone of her voice. Sam was gazing up at her with a smoldering light in his dark blue eyes—a look that never failed to send shivers of anticipation coursing through every part of her.

“I guess I’m getting mellow in my old age,” he said, smiling as he reached up to lightly trace her jawline with his fingertips. “I decided to leave that old catfish alone today.”

“And why is that?” she asked, returning his smile.

“I got to thinking that he might be lying in that hole in the creek bed with his lady and it would be a shame to take him away from that.” He winked. “I know how I’d feel if somebody disturbed us.”

His gentle touch and suggestive tone set off warning bells in the back of her mind. She couldn’t fall back into the same old pattern. Nothing had changed between them. When Sam was home he had always been attentive and let her know in no uncertain terms that he desired her. The only problem was, that only happened a few days out of the month.

As far as she was concerned, that wasn’t enough. Not when he had personnel who could travel with the livestock while he coordinated everything from the ranch. In the beginning, that had been his plan. But as the business became a success, it seemed to drive Sam to set new goals and strive to achieve more. And somewhere along the way he had lost sight of the hopes and dreams they’d had for their life, their marriage, their family.

“You’re looking awfully serious all of a sudden,” he said, taking the book from her hands to place it on the blanket beside her.

“Since we clearly aren’t having fish, I was wondering what I’m going to make for supper,” she said, grasping at the first thing that came to mind. “Would you like chicken or steak?”

“I’m a born-and-bred Texan, sweetheart,” he said, laughing. “What do you think?”

She hoped her smile looked less forced than it felt. “Steak it is.”

“I’ve got an idea,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Why don’t we drive over to Beaver Dam this evening and have dinner at the Broken Spoke Roadhouse.”

At first Bria wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He knew several of the ranchers over that way. What if someone in the tiny town had heard about their separation and impending divorce and made a comment in front of Sam?

But she abandoned that possibility almost immediately. Sam was a very private man and wouldn’t have mentioned it to anyone unless he had to. To her knowledge, the only people who knew about the end of their marriage were his brothers and her sister. Mariah lived all the way up in Amarillo and didn’t know a soul in Beaver Dam, and his brothers were five of the most honorable men she had ever met. They would all rather die than betray Sam’s trust.

“That sounds nice,” she finally said, warming to the idea. “Are you sure you feel up to it?”

He looked exasperated. “I told you—”

“I know.” She sighed. “Other than your memory, you’re just fine.”

“Yup.” He yawned and, reaching for his wide-brimmed hat, covered his eyes with it. “I think I’ll take a little nap before we have lunch and start back to the house to get ready for our big night out.”

While Sam slept, Bria tried to get back into the story of a pioneer woman on the wild frontier. As long as she was lost in the woman’s journey and the trials she faced, Bria didn’t have to think about the man with his head in her lap sleeping as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The man who was putting her through the biggest trial she had faced in all of her twenty-eight years and didn’t even realize it.