More Than a Memory. Roz Denny Fox

      The front door opened as she sipped her tea. Her seat gave her an unobstructed view of the woman who entered the foyer. She was of medium height and her light brown hair curved artfully around her narrow face. Jo noticed the dour expression, because the woman’s hazel eyes narrowed on her. Feeling a bit as if she’d been caught with food on her face, Jo reached for the napkin she’d had draped across the knees of her oldest jeans. Another reason to feel uneasy. The woman studying her like a bug under a microscope was impeccably dressed in heels and a flowery spring dress.

      Gripping an envelope purse, the newcomer hurried across the floor until she stood in front of Jo. “So the rumor’s true. You are back. There’s a lot of speculation as to why, Colleen. I’m happy to see you didn’t die, but if you’ve had second thoughts about dumping Garret, forget it. You had your chance with him, and you screwed up. Now it’s my turn. In fact—” she wiggled her left hand “—I intend to be wearing Garret’s ring by the end of the arts and crafts fair. We’ll be on our honeymoon by the start of the Mountain Music Festival—if that’s what’s brought you back to the valley.”

      “What…who…?” Jo was too stunned to do more than croak. A tiny window in her brain cracked open long enough for her to know this wasn’t the first time she’d met the brunette. Then the window closed with a snap, leaving Jo gaping after a total stranger. A stranger who departed as quickly as she’d come.

      Jo half rose, but the screen door shut before she could get to her feet. She sat again and heard an expulsion of breath that she knew hadn’t come from her. Glancing up, Jo saw Kendra and Jim hovering in the kitchen doorway.

      “Who…was that?” Jo asked.

      “Jaclyn Richmond,” Kendra said. “A local artist. She came by the day Jim’s dad put up our outdoor sign, asking if we’d display some of her paintings in our rooms. I guess she wanted us to sell them. But her work was too modern for our Victorian decor. Mrs. Applegate at the corner grocery store said Jaclyn used to be married to a football player, but the marriage fell apart. Now I hear she’s running after Garret Logan.”

      “She seemed to know you,” Jim said, interrupting Kendra’s prattle.

      Kendra wasn’t done, however. “Why did she call you Colleen? You signed our register as Jo Carroll, and that’s the name we used to find you on the Internet.”

      Sighing, Jo folded her napkin, and decided it was time to trust them. “It’s a long story, or a short one, depending on how you view it. I can’t answer your question, Kendra.” Jo stood up. “I was in an auto accident seven years ago and have holes in my memory. Jaclyn Richmond and others in town may know more about me than I do. I came here hoping to learn about my past. It seems not everyone seems happy to see me.”

      Kendra slid a hand onto her husband’s shoulder and studied their guest with troubled eyes. “If you need friends you can count on Jim and me. This is a very tight community and it can be hard to break in. There are somewho consider us outsiders even though Jim’s grandparents lived here a long time and his dadwas born here.”

      “Thanks. But I should probably check out and find a room somewhere outside White Oak Valley.”

      “We want you to stay, don’t we, Jim?” Kendra nudged him.

      The man in the wheelchair caught and kissed his wife’s hand. “Kendra’s very stubborn when it comes to getting through tough times. She says stay, and I agree with her.”

      “I will, then,” Jo said. “I appreciate your generosity. I really hope to straighten everything out in a day or two. With your blessing, I’ll get right to it.”