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some.”
    â€œSee what I mean?” Matt countered and was rewarded by a grin from Claire.
    He was treated to several more of Claire’s smiles during the next thirty minutes as Emma regaled her with stories of his youth. And while Emma fussed over her like a mother hen over her baby chick, he fielded call after call from his family, checking on Claire.
    By the time he had repeated Emma’s instructions on heating the casserole she’d prepared for their dinner and closed the door behind the housekeeper, the troubled look he’d noticed sneaking into Claire’s eyes several times during the afternoon was back. For the life of him, Matt couldn’t quite figure out what was behind it.
    Claiming a corner of the oversize chair beside her, he asked, “So how’s the head feeling?”
    â€œTender,” she replied, and ran a finger along the edge of the bandage affixed to her temple. “I was hoping that coming here would help me to remember.”
    â€œHas it?”
    She shook her head and lifted her gaze to his. “I can’t believe I don’t remember Emma.”
    Matt grinned. “She is a hard one to forget.”
    â€œShe really loves you and your family a great deal.”
    â€œAnd you,” Matt amended. Giving in to the need, he reached for her hand. “She loves you, too, Red. All of my family does—and me most of all.”
    â€œI don’t know what to say,” she told him, averting her eyes.
    Sighing, Matt released her hand. “There I go pushing again. Sorry.”
    â€œDon’t be,” she said, touching his arm when he started to rise. “I’m the one who’s sorry. You’ve been wonderful, Matt. You, your family, everyone. I just…I just wish I could remember.”
    The disappointment etched across her face ripped at him. “Don’t be so tough on yourself. You heard what the doctor said. You just need to give yourself time.”
    The smile she gave him was soft. Slow. Warm. “You’re a nice man, Matthew Gallagher.”
    Matt winced. “Nice? Whatever you do, please don’tsay that I’m sweet. If you do, you’re liable to find out that I’m not nice at all.”
    â€œBut you are sweet…and kind…and patient…”
    â€œStop!”
    She chuckled at his protest. “It wasn’t meant to be an insult. Those are all good qualities.”
    â€œTrust me, Red,” he said, his voice gruff. “No man wants to hear a woman describe him as though he were some kind of saint.”
    Her lips twitched. “Somehow I doubt that anyone would mistake you for a saint.”
    â€œThank heaven for that.”
    â€œSo, what descriptive terms does a man want to hear a woman use to describe him?”
    â€œOh, the usual ones,” he told her, his mouth kicking up at the corners. “Sexy…virile…stud…”
    â€œI get the picture,” she said dryly, a flush climbing her cheeks.
    â€œSorry. I just couldn’t resist teasing—not when you blush so prettily.”
    He watched her struggle to regain her composure. When she did, the lighthearted moment had passed. “It all seems so strange. Not knowing anything about myself, about you, about us.”
    Matt hesitated. “The doctor said to let your memories come back on their own.”
    â€œI know, but it’s frustrating not remembering even simple things. Things like…like how long we’ve been married.”
    â€œWe were married two years last month.” And their wedding anniversary had been one of the most miserable days of his life, because they hadn’t celebrated it together or even been living under the same roof.
    â€œTwo years,” she repeated as though trying to grasp the concept.
    â€œI’d better get that,” he said at the sound of the phone, grateful for the excuse to drop the topic of their marriage. He couldn’t help feeling guilty for