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creek."
     
Kendall's mouth went dry. "You remember all that?"
     
"No, I don't remember. Those are the facts the sheriff told me.
     
"Sheriff?"
     
He was quick to catch the alarm in her voice and looked at her quizzically. "That's right. A deputy. He came by earlier today, introduced himself, and asked me some questions."
     
"Why?"
     
"I guess he wanted answers."
     
"I gave him answers."
     
After a long silence, during which he gazed at her thought fully, he said softly, "Apparently he thought you were lying."
     
"I'm not!"
     
"Christ." Grimacing in pain, he again raised his hand to his head.
     
Kendall was instantly contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout. Are you in pain? Should I call the nurse?"
     
"No." He closed his eyes tightly and gave a deep sigh. "I'll be all right."
     
Feeling bad about her thoughtless outburst and wanting to make amends, Kendall refilled his water glass from the sweating plastic carafe. She slipped her hand between the pillow and the back of his head and lifted it gingerly. While she held the glass to his lips, he sucked through the flexible straw several times. "Enough?" she asked when he angled his head back.
     
He nodded. She gently lowered his head to the pillow and replaced the glass on the wheeled bed tray. "Thanks." He sighed. "This headache is a bitch."
     
"It'll get better in a day or so."
     
"Yeah." He didn't sound convinced.
     
"I know it hurts, but you can be glad that no serious damage was done. The doctor here consulted a neurologist in Atlanta."
     
"I overheard your conversation."
     
"Then you should feel reassured. Your memory could come back at any moment."
     
"Or it could take a while. Which I think you would prefer."
     
She hadn't seen that remark coming and was momentarily stunned. "I don't know what . . . What do you mean?"
     
"Wouldn't you rather I regain my memory later than sooner?"
     
"Why would I want that?"
     
"I haven't the vaguest."
     
Kendall thought it best to remain silent.
     
After a moment, he nodded toward the corridor where she had discussed his condition with the doctor. "You've been reading up on the subject of amnesia. It sounded as though you were covering all the bases, clarifying all the possibilities.
     
And I just wondered why you would do that."
     
"I wanted to learn what you were up against.
     
Isn't that natural?"
     
"I don't know. Is it?"
     
"For me, yes, it is. I like to know exactly where I stand at all times. I like to be prepared for the worst so I won't be so upset if that's what happens. It comes from being orphaned at an early age. I never quite got over my fear of the unexpected."
     
Suddenly realizing that she was telling too much, she shut up.
     
"Why'd you stop?" he asked. "It was just getting interesting."
     
"I don't want to confuse you with the facts." She grinned, hoping he would take it as a joke and as a conclusion to the discussion. "Does your leg hurt?"
     
"Not really. It's just a damn nuisance. The bumps and bruises hurt much worse."
     
His right arm lay listlessly across his lap. The skin was a mottled purple from his wrist to his biceps, which curved into the wide sleeve of the hospital gown. "This looks particularly painful." She stroked the dark bruise, then left her hand resting on his muscled arm. It seemed essential, somehow, that she touch him.
     
His gaze dropped to her left hand. In particular, he stared at the wedding ring on her third finger, and his stare made her even more aware of the heat conducted by her fingertips from his skin into hers. She shouldn't be touching him. She certainly shouldn't be registering any sensation. Nevertheless, she couldn't bring herself to remove her hand.
     
He turned his head slightly and looked up at her. A heavy silence ensued while he methodically and thoroughly studied her features. His shadowed eyes moved over her face, which held his attention for what seemed a terribly long time, during which Kendall held her breath. He followed the