Under The Mistletoe With John Doe

Chapter Four

After her shift ended the next morning, Betsy once again took the elevator up to the third floor. But this time she was going to stop by John’s room for practical reasons.

When she reached his doorway, she found him standing at the window, looking toward a copse of trees and scanning the hills that surrounded the medical center.

He was wearing a hospital gown, which was tied in back, and she couldn’t help but smile. Those ugly, frumpy garments weren’t the least bit flattering on patients, but the one he had on looked pretty darn good on him.

She had to admit that that was because his loose-fitting gown gaped open a bit, revealing a stretch of skin at the shoulder-and another near his butt.

As if sensing her presence, he turned and met her gaze.

“Good morning,” she said. “It’s nice to see you up and around.”

He shot her a smile that nearly took her breath away. “I was just checking out the view.”

She’d been doing the same thing, only not on the rolling hills and the stark bushes that had been full of colorful blooms a few months earlier.

He made his way back toward the bed, but instead of throwing back the blanket and climbing between the sheets, he took a seat in the chair next to it. “I’m really looking forward to getting out of here. I keep sensing that I have something to do, someplace to be.”

She was sure that he did. But his other life had been temporarily denied him.

“That may be a good sign,” she said.

“Me wanting to get out of here? Or feeling like I’ve dropped the ball?”

“Both. Your injuries are healing, and you’re a healthy man. Lying around all day has got to be boring.” She entered his room and took a seat at the edge of his bed. “You had a life prior to the accident. There must be a lot of things that need doing. And if you feel pressed about something, then one day soon it will all come back to you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

She nodded at the built-in wardrobe where patients could keep their personal property. “Do you mind if I take a look in there?”

“Why?”

“Because the clothes you were wearing the other night are in there. And because they’re dirty and bloody. I thought I’d wash them for you so you don’t have to wear a hospital gown home-not that it doesn’t look dashing.”

He glanced down at his chest, then tugged at the cotton fabric. “I guess this isn’t what all the ranch hands are wearing this year.”

“No, I’m afraid you’d get a couple of laughs. Especially if you add a pair of cowboy boots to round out your ensemble.”

A grin tugged at the side of his mouth, and his eyes glimmered. “Now that’s a lousy visual.”

“On you? I’d have to see it,” she began, then reeled in her thoughts. What in the world was she doing? Flirting with him?

As much as she’d hoped to avoid John Doe for the rest of his stay in Brighton Valley, she had to face the facts. He’d been invited to stay at Doc’s ranch, and he’d accepted.

He also had nowhere else to go.

So she crossed the room to the little closet and pulled open the door. A white plastic bag in which one of the nurses had packed the dirty clothes he’d been wearing sat next to a dusty pair of expensive Italian shoes.

Again, she was reminded that he hadn’t been dressed like any of the men who called Brighton Valley home. He was going to need something suitable to wear on the ranch-jeans and boots for a starter.

Leaving the loafers behind, she removed the bag and shut the closet door.

“Can I look at those before you take them?” he asked.

“Of course.” She carried the bag to him, then waited as he peered inside.

“Do they look familiar?” she asked.

He slowly shook his head and handed them back to her. “I wish they did.”

Her heart went out to him, even though she wished it hadn’t. And she felt herself being drawn closer to him, more involved.

“Then if it’s all right with you,” she said, “I’ll take these home with me, wash them and bring them back this evening when I come to work.”

“I hate to have you go to the trouble.”

She offered him a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be carrying your own weight before you know it.”

“You can count on that.”

He’d said it as if he meant it, and she believed him.

Or did she just want to believe that he was conscientious and responsible?

She lifted her wrist and checked her watch, even though there really wasn’t any reason to. The motion had become a signal she used to make her excuses and leave, to let people know that she had a schedule to keep-whether she did or not.

“Well,” she said, “I’d better go. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate all you’ve done. You’ve gone above and beyond for me, and you don’t have to.”

No, she didn’t. And she probably shouldn’t. But every time she gazed into his eyes, every time she spotted his vulnerability and sensed how lost he was, she couldn’t seem to leave well enough alone.

“Just pay it forward,” she said, letting him know there weren’t any strings attached, that she was just doing a good deed.

Then she left his room, took the elevator down to the lobby and headed to the parking lot. After climbing into her Honda Civic, she started the twenty-minute drive back to the ranch.

She had to give the poor guy credit. He’d been dealt a bad hand and was taking each day as it came. But for the time being, he didn’t have anything but the clothes he’d been wearing on Wednesday night.

As she spotted a Wal-Mart sign up ahead, it dawned on her that John was going to need more than a single outfit and shoes. And without giving it much thought, she pulled into the driveway and parked near the front door.

Then she took a quick peek into the bag of dirty clothing. The pants, a top-designer brand, had a thirty-four-inch waist, and the shirt and jacket were both size large.

She had a feeling John wasn’t the type to shop for clothes at a discount store, but this was the best she could do, the best she was willing to do. Her time was limited today, and she wasn’t going to hang around town until one of the nicer clothing stores opened. She really needed to go home and get some rest before her next shift started.

Twenty minutes later, she returned to her car carrying several bags filled with things John would need-shaving cream, razors, a popular aftershave, a toothbrush and toothpaste. She also picked up socks, boxer shorts and Wranglers, as well as a couple of shirts and a rugged pair of boots that were on sale, something suitable for walking around the ranch.

Okay, so her credit card had taken a direct hit, but he couldn’t very well get by without a change of clothes or toiletries.

By the time she arrived at the ranch, Doc was out in the yard waiting for her. But that didn’t surprise her. The two had grown close over the years, and he thought of her as a daughter.

“You’re late,” he said, as he approached her car, clearly worried. “I was just getting ready to call and see what was keeping you. I was afraid you might have fallen asleep on the way home and run into a ditch.”

“I’m all right, Doc.”

A crisp morning breeze kicked up a hank of his white hair, and he crossed his arms. “You can tell everyone else that you’re holding up just fine, but I know you’ve been burning the candle at both ends.”

At one time, Dr. Graham had been the only physician in the valley, and Betsy wasn’t doing anything he hadn’t done every day of his fifty-year practice.

“The night shifts are tough,” she admitted, as she pulled the blue plastic bags from her car. “But I’ve got a day off tomorrow. I can catch up on my sleep then.”

“What’d you do?” he asked, nodding to the bags she held. “Go shopping on the way home?”

“I picked up a few things for John Doe. All he has are the clothes he was wearing.”

Her friend and mentor grimaced. “You didn’t need to spend any money. I’ve got plenty of old clothes he can wear. In fact, I’ve already gathered them together and have them ready for him.”

“But they might not be the right size.” And even if John could make do with an elderly man’s hand-me-downs, she doubted that the younger man would like wearing them. Doc may have been dapper in his day, but his sense of style was probably a little old-fashioned or bucolic for a man like John.

A man like John.

And just what kind of man was that? The irony struck her hard, and she let out a weary sigh.

Still, she carried her purchases, as well as John’s laundry, into Doc’s house.

“Do you mind if I use your washing machine?” she asked.

“Of course not.” He followed her to the service porch, where he kept his washer and dryer.

He watched as she set aside her purchases, then opened the white plastic bag and dumped out the dirty clothing onto the worktable next to the appliances.

As she separated the dark slacks from the white shirt, shorts and socks, she asked, “Do you have any colors I can put in with his pants?”

“Yes, but just leave those things right there. You’re getting those dark circles under your eyes again and you need to get some rest. I’ll take care of that for you.”

“All right.” She lifted the lid to the washer and dropped the slacks inside. Then she leaned forward, went up on tiptoe and brushed a kiss on Doc’s wrinkled cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Run yourself into the ground, I suspect.”

She smiled and gave him a hug. “Thanks, Doc. Then I’ll just take this other stuff into the spare bedroom and lay them out for him. After that, I’ll go home, take a hot shower and fix a cup of chamomile tea. I’ll probably be asleep before you know it.”

She gathered the Wal-Mart bags, and as she headed for the guest room, Doc tagged along behind her.

“I wish you wouldn’t have spent your hard-earned money on that fellow,” her friend said. “He’s probably going to leave town within the next couple of days and take all the new things with him.”

Doc had a point, but this was the holiday season, a time of goodwill and glad tidings. “The expense won’t break me. Besides, you remember what the Good Book says, ‘It’s more blessed to give than receive.’”

As she laid out the shaving gear and toiletries she’d purchased, Doc left the room and returned with a stack of clothes. “These pants used to fit me before I had that gall-bladder surgery last spring. If they’re too big around the waist, he can use a belt to cinch ’em up. And he can cuff them if they’re too long.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate the gesture.”

At least, she hoped he would. There was so much about the man she didn’t know…

“This is just a temporary fix,” Doc said. “I’m sure his memory will eventually return, and when it does, he’ll head back to wherever he came from.”

That was true. John Doe was just passing through her life-here today and gone tomorrow.

And whether she’d be happy about that or not was left to be seen.

Dr. Kelso discharged John on Friday, which worked out well since Betsy was off that day and could drive out to the hospital to pick him up.

When she entered his room, she found him dressed in the outfit he’d been wearing when he’d arrived at the Stagecoach Inn last Wednesday night, the one that Doc had laundered and she’d pressed for him. Black slacks, a white shirt and expensive leather shoes.

“It looks like you’re ready to go,” she said.

“I’m waiting for someone to bring a wheelchair, which seems crazy to me. I can walk.”

“It’s hospital policy.”

“That’s what the nurse said.”

For an awkward moment, silence stretched between them, and while she probably ought to make small talk to break the tension, she sketched a gaze over him.

Just as she’d suspected, he stood over six feet tall, with dark hair that curled up at his collar and eyes that could soften the hardest of hearts. He looked sharp and stylish, and she could easily imagine the impression he’d left on the rednecks and cowboys who’d been at the honky-tonk last Wednesday night.

Witnesses had said that he’d left the bar alone. And if that were the case, then he’d done so by choice. Any woman on the prowl-married or single-would have jumped at the chance to go home with him.

Maybe he hadn’t been interested in romance.

And if not, she wondered why. Was he already committed to someone?

The moment the question crossed her mind, she realized she was trying too hard to read into things. His memory would eventually return, and when it did, she’d have the answers she needed.

Or, at least, he would.

Shrugging off her curiosity the best she could, she said, “I’m sure the wheelchair is on its way.”

“I hope so. I’m also going to have to stop by the accounting office, but that won’t take long.”

She supposed it wouldn’t because he didn’t have the means to pay the bill. But neither of them broached that fact.

“Maybe they can put me on some kind of payment plan,” he said. “It’s also possible that I have health insurance and the details will come to me later. Either way, I’ll make it right.”

She hoped he meant that for several reasons. First of all, the hospital was already struggling to make ends meet, and they didn’t need one more financial burden. And second, she wanted to believe that integrity came natural to him.

He certainly seemed convincing, but that was left to be seen. So far, the only things Betsy knew about John were guesswork and hunches.

And given her track record, who knew how accurate those would prove to be?

“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll get my car and pull it up to the curb in front of the hospital. You can find me when you’re done in the office.”

He nodded, and she left his room, eager to escape all the what-ifs that seemed to crop up whenever she was around him.

Minutes later, she sat in her idling car outside the lobby entrance to the medical center, waiting for someone to bring John out to the curb. But she didn’t have to wait long. The automatic door soon swung open, and Stan Thompson, one of the hospital volunteers, pushed John’s wheelchair outside.

Betsy waved, letting the men know that she was in the white Civic. And when John smiled in return, her heart spun in her chest.

She hoped it wasn’t a big mistake to take him to Doc’s ranch. But the plan had already been set in motion, and there wasn’t much she could do about it now.

As John climbed from the chair and slid into the passenger seat of her car, they both thanked Stan, and then they were on their way.

“It was nice of Dr. Graham to let me stay with him,” John said, breaking the silence.

“He’s a great guy. And he’s got a heart as big as they make them.”

“Apparently so.” John peered out the passenger window at the passing scenery, the cattle in the fields, the pale green water tower with the name Brighton Valley painted across it in bold black letters.

She’d studied the same sights when she’d first come to town, and she wondered if he liked what he saw, if he felt as though he’d come home, too.

“It’s peaceful out here,” he finally said.

“I think so.” It was one reason she liked living outside of town and didn’t mind the extra time it took to drive to work.

“How far is the ranch from here?” he asked.

“About twenty minutes.”

“Is it a bad commute?”

There it went again-another hunch based upon something as simple as a word choice. Did John live in a large city? One in which people talked about their commutes to work?

Rather than continue to make those kinds of leaps, she answered his question. “No, it’s not bad. Although I do wish I lived a little closer to town. My parents live at the Shady Glen Retirement Home, so it would mean a lot less driving time.”

“Are your parents elderly?” he asked.

She nodded. “My mom and dad were married for twenty years before they adopted me.”

“Are you an only child?”

“Yes.”

John stared out the windshield, watching the road ahead. He seemed to ponder her statement for a while, then he turned to her and added, “They must be very proud of you.”

“They are.” She thought about her mom and dad, about how they’d cheered each of her successes, how they’d shared all they had with her. A warm smile stretched across her face. “I’m proud of them, too.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because they fell in love and made a lifetime commitment to each other. A lot of people aren’t that lucky-or that dedicated to each other. I certainly wasn’t.”

“So you’re divorced?”

She hadn’t meant to share any personal details with him, especially about Doug and their split, but it was a little late to backpedal now. John had already picked up on it. “Yes, I was married right after I got out of med school. But it didn’t work out.”

“Why? Because you weren’t lucky or dedicated?”

“I wasn’t lucky, and he wasn’t dedicated.”

He let it go for a moment, as if trying to make sense of what she’d said-and what she hadn’t. Then he asked, “So how did luck play into it?”

“I think people who meet the perfect partner and fall in love are incredibly fortunate.” She shrugged. “And I wasn’t.”

“I take it your ex wasn’t in it for the long haul,” John said, filling in the blanks.

He might have been an attorney or a police detective in his real life. Or else he was good at probing for answers.

If anyone else had been quizzing her, she might have considered them rude. But for some reason, she didn’t think John was overstepping his bounds. He knew so little about himself that a conversation like this might trigger his own memories.

“All the time I spent at the hospital took a toll on our relationship,” she said, still holding back.

She could have told him that Doug had cheated, but there was a part of her that didn’t want to admit that her love hadn’t been enough for him.

“Does he-your ex-husband-live around here?”

“He’s from Houston. When we split, I wanted to put some distance between us. That’s when I bought Doc’s practice and moved to Brighton Valley.”

“And your parents came with you?”

“I couldn’t imagine my life without them or not being able to visit them at a moment’s notice. On top of that, my mom’s having a few health issues, and I can monitor them easier if she’s nearby.”

“I’m sorry. Are those ‘issues’ serious?”

“They could be, but medication is helping. And she’s got a great outlook on life.”

“Even living in a rest home?”

“Shady Glen isn’t a convalescent hospital. The residents are all free to come and go as they please. And my parents are pretty active. In fact, they left yesterday on a trip to Galveston with some of the other residents.” Betsy let the subject ride for a couple of minutes, then glanced across the seat at her passenger, a handsome stranger who now knew a lot more information about her than he did about himself.

Before he could comment or quiz her any further, she added, “And for what it’s worth, I’d planned to buy a house in town and have them live with me, but they insisted upon moving into Shady Glen. It’s worked out well, though. And it was the right decision for them to make. They’ve been able to maintain their independence while living in a safe environment, which is important. And they’ve made friends with their neighbors.”

“That’s great.”

She let his words and the subject trail off, as she focused on the road ahead. She wasn’t going to share any more intimate details with John, even if there seemed to be a friendship brewing between them.

But they couldn’t possibly become friends-or anything else. Not until she learned more about him.

As the car neared the county road that would take them to Doc’s ranch, she tossed another casual glance John’s way, only to find him looking at her, too.

Their gazes locked, holding her with some kind of invisible grip, and she realized her resolve to keep an emotional distance wasn’t holding up.

And even if his identity and his past were still a mystery, she’d certainly settle for knowing what was going on in his mind.

Was she the only one feeling a sexual charge whenever their eyes met?

John tore his gaze away from Betsy’s and tried to get his thoughts on an even keel.

He had no business getting involved with anyone until his memory returned. Trouble was, there was something about the beautiful E.R. doctor that made it impossible for him to keep his distance.

Sure, there’d been an instant attraction, which wasn’t surprising. She was a beautiful woman-bright, successful and caring. And she was the only person in this world who seemed to have his back.

But damn. His attraction was growing by leaps and bounds. And he couldn’t believe that he was the only one feeling it.

After all, she must have set up the deal between him and Doc Graham, a man who’d never even met him.

As they neared the ranch, John found himself studying the grassy pastures, the grazing cattle and an occasional windmill. None of it looked familiar, yet it brought on a strange sense of comfort, as if he was really going home and not just to a temporary job and place to sleep while he was stuck in Brighton Valley.

Either way, he had a feeling that this might be just what the doctor ordered.

And speaking of doctors…

He stole another peek at Betsy, who was wearing a pair of black jeans and a cream-colored sweater today. Her hair was still held back in a clip in her usual businesslike manner. But she was prettier than she’d been in the hospital, more approachable and down-to-earth. She’d put on some lipstick and mascara, and he wondered if she’d done it for him.

“Here it is,” she said as she drove down a narrow but paved road to a pale blue clapboard house with a veranda-style front porch, an old barn and several outbuildings.

“Which one is the guesthouse?” he asked.

She pointed toward a grassy knoll, where a white stucco building sat off by itself. It had a pale green door and was adorned with matching window boxes. “Doc built it for his wife’s sister about ten years ago. She’d just lost her husband and had a heart condition. But she died before she was able to move in.”

“Doc must be a generous and kindhearted man.”

“He’s the best.”

As they got out of the car, an elderly man with a head of thick white hair stood up from where he’d been seated on the porch and started toward them.

John met him halfway and extended his hand. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your offer to let me stay here. Dr. Kelso said I’ve got to take it easy for another week or so, but as soon as I’m able, I’ll do whatever I can to help you out.”

Dr. Graham took his hand and gave it a gentleman’s shake. “It’ll be a win-win for both of us. Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

John looked at Betsy. “Are you coming, too?”

She didn’t answer right away, and he wondered if she was going to make up some excuse and bow out. But instead, she smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

Why not, indeed.

Betsy Nielson intrigued him more each time he saw her, each time he talked to her and she uncovered another layer of her past. Too bad it wasn’t his past that was unfolding, but he couldn’t stew about that now. He was stuck in Brighton Valley and had to make the best of it.

There was an upside, though. A powerful attraction appeared to be brewing between the two of them.

And if a romance developed?

He’d be hard-pressed to try to stop it.