Diana Palmer Magnolia 03 Amelia

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tanned. Despite the suit he was wearing, he didn't look like a city man. Are you a cowboy? she
asked. In a manner of speaking. His voice sounded odd. Do you know any of us? he asked. She
looked past him. There was a handsome blond man with a mustache and dark eyes. There was an
older man, also dark-eyed and a little heavier than the younger ones. There was a woman, too, with
silver-sprinkled dark hair and dark eyes. The woman looked as worried as the men. I'm so sorry,
Amelia said gently. Are you relatives of mine? She knew that the silver-eyed man wasn't related to
her, but she didn't know how she knew it. He made her feel very uncertain and uncomfortable, as if
they were linked in some unpleasant way. Funny, to feel like that about a total stranger. No, my dear,
we aren't relatives, Enid said. She moved forward, displacing King. How do you feel? Well, I
have a headache, and my back seems very sore. She touched the disheveled blond hair around her
face. I feel a bit sick, too. Her hand touched her forehead, and she winced. There was an enormous
bump there. Have I hit my head? she asked. Apparently, Enid said. Oh, my dear, she groaned.
Get the doctor, King said to Alan, his face drawn and very nearly white. He'll be at Mrs. Sims'. She
was delivered of a son this afternoon, one of the ladies at the dry goods store said, Enid offered.
Alan didn't stop to argue. He left, his heart beating madly as he went quickly down the street. As luck
would have it, he met the doctor halfway. Has she regained consciousness? Vasquez asked. Yes,
Alan offered quickly, but she doesn't know any of us! The little man shook his head. After so many
shocks, is it any wonder? The blow to her brain must have damaged her memory. Will it come
back? Alan asked. �Quien sabe, se�or? Who knows? That is up to God, not to any of us. He and
Alan went back to the house and up the stairs. The three people standing near Amelia were quiet and
subdued. The doctor ran them all out and began to examine her. I'm all right, she insisted. I seem to
be a little addled, but... She stopped, frowning up at him. My... father, she said slowly as her mind
tugged at a vague memory. He was hitting me. She caught her breath. He was hitting me!
Dr. Vasquez took her hand and held it tightly. Your father has died, my dear, he said sadly. I
regret to tell you. Died. He has died. She bit her lower lip hard and felt hot tears in her eyes. Oh,
my. He had a tumor of the brain, he told her. I examined him just an hour ago, to be sure of it. It
was a very large and malignant tumor, he added solemnly. Had he lived, the pain would have been
unbearable, and nothing would have spared him, or you, its agony. It is God's will, and a true mercy,
se�orita. She felt the tears running down her cheeks. I don't remember him. All I remember is that
he was hitting me. Why was he hitting me? I do not know. He didn't mention his suspicions. But
perhaps he could trick her into telling him, if she remembered. Had you been somewhere yesterday,
se�orita! he asked. With someone? She thought and thought. I... I went on a picnic with... Alan,
she forced her mind to work. Yes! The blond man... that's Alan! She smiled with relief. That was
Alan. And his mother and father. The smile faded, and she frowned. The other man... She felt a
surge of panic. I don't remember. I don't remember him. I won't remember him! She put her hands
to her head and squeezed. The doctor began to understand. Gently, he said Gently, do not force it.
The memory will return when you are ready to face it. Sometimes, the brain hides from us things
which are too distressing, you understand? Let it be, se�orita. Be at peace. She began to breathe
normally. There was a veil, a curtain, and behind it was terror. She didn't want to look. She didn't want
to raise the curtain. Her wide, frightened eyes opened and looked into the doctor's. I don't know
him, she said firmly. Perhaps it is just as well, he agreed. Now, I will give you something for the
pain, to make you sleep. The Culhanes will take you out to Latigo, where you will be cared for.
No! She shivered. No, I can't go there, I can't... ! Mrs. Culhane will care for you, he insisted,
calming her. You will be in no danger at all. None whatsoever. Your brother is being sent for. Do
you remember your brother? Brother. Quinn. Her mind pictured a tall, strong man with thick
blond hair and dark eyes in a lean face. Her brother Quinn. She smiled. Oh, yes! I am sure they
will find him quickly. It will do you good to have a member of your own family here. My father,
she said hesitantly. The funeral. It will be arranged, but you must not go, he told her firmly. You
are in no condition, se�orita, lo siento. I will make certain that it is understood by all that the shock of
your father's sudden death has caused a collapse. She understood even through the fog in her brain.
God bless you, se�or, she said gently. And you. He stood up, fastening his bag. I will check on
you in the morning before you are moved to Latigo. Buenas noches.
Thank you. He smiled. De nada. He went out and closed the door, facing three anxious sets
of eyes. She has partially regained her memory, he told them. I have told her that she must not
attend her father's funeral, and it will be in her best interests to remove her from this house at the
earliest possible moment. We'll hire a carriage and take her out to Latigo first thing tomorrow,
Brant said firmly. You said that she's partially regained her memory. What does she remember?
Very little. Being hit by her father and his collapse. And she remembers her brother and the three of
you. And me? King asked, joining them with a brandy snifter in one lean hand, his face set in lines
none of the others had seen there since Alice's tragic death. Does she remember me? The doctor
glanced worriedly from the others back to King. No, he said. He suspected that Amelia did
remember, but she was determined not to admit it. Her fear of this man was not a physical one, but that
made it no less damaging to her recovery. If it helped her to pretend that she didn't know him, the
doctor wasn't going to give her away. King was silent. He took a sip of the brandy and stared into it
with eyes that didn't see. Is it temporary, her loss of memory? Enid persisted. I do not know, the
doctor replied gently. These head injuries, se�ora, can be very unpredictable. She has some nausea
and a headache, and she must be carefully watched. You must send for me if there is any change. I
have given her only a light sedative, but she must not be left alone. I'll sit with her, Enid said. So
will I, Alan volunteered. She won't be alone for a minute. King was swirling the brandy in his
glass, not looking at anyone, while the doctor quietly outlined the necessary care and his prognosis.
King was now the only one who knew what had happened the day before in his bedroom. Amelia
herself didn't know that she could be pregnant, and neither did anyone else. That burden was his alone,
and he might have to bear it for life. If her memory didn't come back, what then? Could he allow her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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