A Baby Between Them. Alice Sharpe

you are a fireman,” she said. “I was right.” That explained the muscles she’d felt under his clothes as she slid down his body and the way he’d balanced her weight as they scaled the mountain.

      “I’m used to helping people out of jams,” he added.

      “Let’s get something straight,” she said firmly. “I’m not expecting anything from you but a ride to a car rental place.”

      “I understand.”

      “I have to find Carl. He’s been lying to me.”

      “Aren’t you worried the guy with the knife will catch up with him first?”

      It was her turn for evasion. Worried? Hell yes, if it meant he carved Carl into little pieces. She wanted to ask Carl about her father; she didn’t want to find him dead.

      Good heavens, was she really such a cold person that she could think like this about a man who claimed they had a good marriage? Yeah, well, he lied; he’d proven that this morning.

      The silence was growing and, given the paucity of comforting thoughts in her brain, she blurted out, “You missed breakfast when you rescued me and then I dragged you away.”

      “I’ll grab something later. Actually, I seldom eat before noon.”

      “My dad was like that. Just coffee with cream. I’d sit in his lap and he’d give me sips.”

      The words had left her mouth before she realized the significance of the thought behind them—or maybe a more accurate thing to say would be the lack of thought behind them.

      Simon pulled the truck off the road into a lookout and set the warning lights. “You remember your father?” His voice sounded excited.

      “Not really,” she said slowly. “I just suddenly remembered sitting on his lap, drinking his coffee, liking the cream.”

      But there was more. The warmth of his arm around her waist as he held her, the faint odor of pipe tobacco, his deep voice booming above her head as she took tiny, sweet sips.

      Already the memory, so tangible just a second before, began slipping away.

      “That’s great,” Simon said. Hooking one strong arm over the steering wheel, he added, “We need to be honest with each other, not hold things back, don’t you agree?”

      “Yes,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. For a second, she was back in his arms, hanging from the rope. She’d been frightened, yes, but she’d also felt safe. She added, “I should tell you about the man in the restaurant. But couldn’t you drive while I did?”

      He blinked a couple of times. “The man in the restaurant?”

      “This will all make more sense if you know about him.” She motioned with her fingers. “Drive?”

      He stared at her a second longer. “Okay,” he finally said, and within a few moments, he had merged back into traffic.

      She told him about the old guy and the way he’d contrived to meet with her alone and her conviction that Carl had known about the meeting days before. Simon asked if she was sure the old man didn’t seem familiar in some way, and though she had to admit he’d appeared to be acquainted with her family, she had no idea who he was or who the man he’d called Jerry was, the man he’d said she was the last to see, presumably before she lost her memory.

      They passed a sign announcing the next town a mile away. “So you can see why I need to get to Tampoo, Washington, can’t you? I don’t know what’s going on, but it must be serious. My father needs me. And Carl—he knows something he’s not telling.”

      Simon slowed down as they entered the city. To Ella’s dismay it was bigger than Rocky Point. “I’ll never find Carl here,” she said.

      “No, I don’t think you will,” Simon agreed.

      “I thought I’d see our car, but there are hundreds of cars.”

      “If he has someone on his tail, he won’t just pull over.”

      “And the last time he saw me I was flying off a cliff. He probably thinks I’m dead.” She met Simon’s gaze and swallowed. If not for him, she would have wound up on the beach a long, long ways down.

      Finding Carl was impossible, that was clear to her now, whereas it hadn’t been minutes earlier. What else was she missing? Was her light-headed wooziness her natural state of being or was it the result of the concussion?

      As she stewed in her own inadequacies, Simon pulled into a grocery store parking lot.

      “What are you doing?”

      After he’d switched off the engine, he turned to face her again. “Do you agree it’s pointless to try to find Carl in this city?”

      “Yes. But Tampoo is in Washington and I need a rental.”

      “Okay, okay, just hear me out. Your eyes look spacey and you have a gash on your hand and Tampoo is easily reached in twenty-four hours. In fact, it will take a lot less than half of that, more like seven or eight. So I’m going to go into this store and buy what it takes to clean and dress your hand and you’re going to go into the bathroom and strip off your clothes and wash up whatever got scraped and dirty and make sure you aren’t cut and bleeding, um, anywhere important.”

      “Simon, really.”

      “It’s this or the hospital.”

      “That’s pretty heavy-handed,” she said.

      “I’m the cautious type. Does your stomach hurt?”

      “No. Why would my stomach hurt?”

      “You had a concussion,” he said. “Nausea and, oh, cramps, maybe, can be a side effect.” He looked decidedly uncomfortable as he added, “I just thought the fall might have exacerbated any…conditions.”

      “I feel queasy every morning. I think it’s the medicine I take at night. Anyway, I’ll do as you ask.”

      “You will?”

      “It makes sense to me. You act surprised.”

      He shrugged. “The last woman I was close to wasn’t quite as agreeable as you are.”

      “Is this the one you were telling me about last night?”

      “Yes.”

      “I guess I’m just the easygoing type.”

      His smile seemed wistful to her and she wondered how long ago he’d broken up with this woman. Maybe the wound was still raw. That thought seemed to rekindle the throbbing in her left hand and she glanced down. What caught her eye was the slender band of gold on her ring finger, a band tying her to Carl.

      Had he left her to die on the cliff or had his motive for leaving been to lead the man with the knife away from her? If so, that posed the question—what kind of loyalty did she owe Carl? Should she believe him when he claimed they had a good marriage? Were her current misgivings out of place? When she saw him again—and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind he would show up in Tampoo unless the guy with the knife stopped him—should she give him the benefit of the doubt? He was her husband, after all….

      She remembered the chill that raced through her blood when he touched her….

      And the lies. He’d known about that meeting at the restaurant and now he knew about the one in Tampoo. What if Carl represented the threat to her father? She might not remember him to speak of, but she’d had one searing moment of clarity and this she knew—she loved her father. She would do anything for him.

      “You okay?” Simon said.

      “What? Oh, sure.”

      “You look upset.”

      “I guess I am.”

      “It’ll all work