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don’t be sorry. It’s all right.” She pressed her hands to his chest again, wanting to touch him, to comfort and ease the pain and confusion she saw in his eyes. It only increased the ache in her heart. For him. For her. And especially for the Ryans.
    If it hurt this much for Jesse not to remember her, she couldn’t even imagine the pain Tommy would endure, knowing his own grandson didn’t remember him.
    And Jesse didn’t remember her, not really. And he probably didn’t remember the special bond that had always been between them, a bond that at one time she’d been certain would never be broken.
    Now she wasn’t certain of anything.
    “Do you remember the last time you saw me?” she asked, cocking her head to look at him curiously.
    He was thoughtful for a moment, and then images flashed before him and he saw her standing on the sidewalk looking lost and forlorn, crying. The memories flashed quickly, brightly, barely giving him time to absorb them.
    “We were playing hide-and-seek out behind the main house here.” Lost in the images of his memory, he spoke by rote, not certain where the words or the memories were coming from. “It was summer and hotter than blazes. We were both running around barefoot. We’d run under the sprinkler just to cool off before we went on with our game.” He had to stop, to swallow because his mouth was so dry. “But I had to be home before dark. I was walking backward down the sidewalk toward my house, waving, and feeling bad because you were standing out front, crying because I had to go home.”
    The word slammed into him.
    Home.
    He’d had to go home.
    Absently, he rubbed his forehead where a dull ache had started. Apparently there were some long-buried memories deep inside the recesses of his mind.
    “That’s right, Jesse,” Hannah said, encouraged. “That night I was standing on the front porch waving and crying because you had to go home.” She had to swallow around the sudden lump in her throat at the painful memory. “That was the last time I saw you. You disappeared that night.” She brushed a fresh tear from her cheek, the loss as fresh today as it had been twenty years ago. “Jesse,” she began carefully. “Do you remember anything else? Anything about your family?”
    How could he tell her he knew who Jesse Garland was, who Jesse Garland’s family was, knew who he was supposed to be, knew what was expected of him, and knew too how he’d act or react in any given situation.
    However, he didn’t remember anything about Jesse Ryan.
    And he didn’t know if he truly wanted to know because then if he knew, he might have to deal with it and accept it, and accept all that went along with becoming Jesse Ryan—Tommy Ryan’s youngest grandson.
    And that meant turning his back on who he’d been his whole life, as well as the woman who’d loved him, raised him as her own. Love and loyalty weren’t just words to him, but something a man—an honorable man—never turned his back on.
    He was still reeling from his mother’s death, her confession, and then all these months trying to absorb the information he’d learned once he’d found out about Tommy Ryan and his missing grandson.
    It was far too much for him to take in and accept right now. It was coming too fast, without enough time for him to absorb it or put into perspective.
    Maybe coming here had been a mistake, he thought, staring at Hannah. Maybe he hadn’t really been ready for what he might learn or have to face.
    And he was certain he hadn’t been prepared for her, nor for the gut-level male reaction he was having to her.
    Just another emotion to add to the confusing mix.
    He shook his head. “No,” he said firmly, not certain of much at the moment, but certain of this if nothing else. “I don’t remember anything about them.”
    “Them?” One eyebrow rose and Hannah watched him carefully, not certain what it was in his eyes. Wariness, of course, a hint of fear, and something else she