Cavanaugh's Woman. Marie Ferrarella

      “Okay, Dad, what’s the big mystery?” Clay called out, following Shaw into the living room.

      Clay stopped dead right behind his brother.

      His sisters were already in the room along with their father. They all sat on the sofa, smiling but looking far more subdued than Shaw ever remembered seeing them. The reason was seated rigidly on the recliner their father favored.

      A ghost from the past.

      The polite but strained conversation stopped the moment he and Clay entered the room.

      For a single second, Shaw’s heart stopped beating as he was thrown back in time, then pushed forward to the present again. Hardly daring to breathe, he looked from the woman to his father, who nodded.

      He wasn’t a police detective anymore, he was a son. A son whose missing mother had turned up in his living room.

      They were already aware that Rose Cavanaugh was alive. His father had told them of Rayne’s discovery, of going up and seeing for himself the woman who answered to the name of Claire. He had wanted to persuade her to come home with him. Shaw also knew that the woman claimed not to have any memory of them.

      Shaw could see a great deal of unresolved emotion in his father’s eyes. He could also see that while she was looking straight ahead at them, trying to smile, the woman who didn’t appear to know she was his mother was digging her fingertips into the leather armrests.

      “And these are your sons, Shaw and Clay,” Andrew told her.

      The woman inclined her head, rising slightly from her seat, and succeeded in smiling at them. At him. Smiling at him with his mother’s smile.

      Shaw had no idea what to feel, what to think.

      And then she shook her head, sorrow in her eyes as she turned them toward his father. Her apology throbbed with emotion, with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember them, either.”

      Andrew nodded, resigned but ever hopeful. “You will,” he promised. “It’ll take time but you will.” He didn’t have a single strain of doubt in his voice. Andrew looked at his sons. There was triumph in his expression. “Boys, Claire has agreed to stay here with us for a while.”

      Shaw raised his eyes toward his father, waiting for an explanation. Questions began to form in his mind.

      “Claire?” he echoed.

      “It’s my name,” the woman told him quietly. “At least, that’s the only name I’ve known for the past fifteen years.”

      Her voice was soft, like his mother’s voice. Shaw felt an ache take hold. There was nothing he could do to fix this except ride it out. Compassion welled up within him. He sincerely felt for his father.

      Unable to hold back any longer, Rayne was on her feet, standing in front of Claire. “That’s because you disappeared fifteen years ago,” she insisted. “You are our mother, you are his wife. Why can’t you see that?”

      Her voice broke even as Shaw crossed to her. Ever protective of his siblings, especially of Rayne, who’d always been the most troubled and the most tormented by all this, he put his arm around his sister.

      “This is why we never let you become a psychiatrist,” he teased, trying to lighten the moment if only a fraction. He kissed the top of her head, then he gave her a quick, heartfelt squeeze. Rayne had been the one the most vocal in her suffering when her mother had disappeared after the accident. The youngest, she’d been the most attached. “It’s going to be all right, Rayne,” Shaw promised. He looked at his mother. “It’s just going to take time, but we’ll all be there for you. For each other.”

      Claire seemed filled with remorse that she didn’t know them. “I’m so sorry I can’t—”

      On his feet, Andrew cut her short. “That’s okay. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

      “Now here’s something you should remember.” Taking her cue from the others, Teri tried to keep the conversation on a light, upbeat path. “Dad always has a corny saying to reinforce his points.”

      Claire smiled bravely at these strangers around her. She’d been alone for so long, both physically and mentally. Alone, yet haunted by memories that refused to form beyond specters. To believe that there was a family waiting for her, ready to accept her with open arms, was more like a fantasy than reality.

      But even so, she couldn’t make the wall keeping her from her past come down, couldn’t even chip away at it until there was the slightest clink in the mortar. Couldn’t access anything beyond the time she regained consciousness, found herself dripping wet and walking along a highway.

      Going from nowhere to nowhere.

      Andrew looked at the faces of his children. “Okay.” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s eat.”

      Shaw laughed and shook his head. Food was his father’s solution to almost any dilemma. He maintained that if you had a pleasantly full stomach, problems didn’t loom as large.

      Shaw had a feeling they were going to have to consume a mountain of food before this was all finally resolved to their satisfaction.

      The alarm went off.

      Reluctantly, Shaw rolled over on his side and stared at the blue digital numbers. It was early.

      He’d always been an early riser. This morning, however, he entertained the idea of succumbing to the unfamiliar desire to remain in bed a little longer. He wanted sleep to anesthetize him.

      Didn’t matter what he wanted. It didn’t work that way for him; it never had. Once he was awake, he was awake. And the next moment, like marauding soldiers, thoughts came crowding into his head.

      Thoughts of last night with his mother.

      It had been one strange evening. He felt as if he’d experienced it on two very different levels, both at the same time. Part of him had wanted to throw his arms around the delicate woman, to tell her how much he’d missed her, to tell her everything that had happened in the past fifteen years. The other part had stood off, afraid of getting hurt. Even so, he’d attempted to get to know this woman who hadn’t been a part of their lives for such a long time. She was both their mother and a stranger at the same time.

      It was surreal.

      So was getting up, knowing that he was going to be riding around with a movie star in the back of his car, he grumbled to himself.

      Shaw threw off the covers. The less he thought about that, the better.

      What he needed was a cold shower to bring him around. That, and maybe shooting a few hoops at the local park. Getting physical always helped him cope better.

      Shaw wondered if Clay was up yet and if he could be persuaded to meet him at the park. Probably not. His brother was a slug. When they were growing up, more than once Clay had offered him money just to grasp five extra minutes in bed. But maybe he could rouse Clay before it was time to get to work.

      Looking at the phone, Shaw tried to remember Clay’s new number now that he’d moved in with Ilene. He drew a blank.

      He’d look for it after his shower, he decided.

      A gentle, cool breeze pushed its way into the bedroom. Shaw glanced toward the window, remembering that he’d left it open last night. The breeze stirred the drapes he’d drawn before getting undressed.

      Shaw stretched, the muscles of his taut, tanned naked body rippling and moving like an awakening panther.

      He decided to leave the window open and walked into his small bathroom.

      He had just stepped into the stall when he heard the ringing. At first, he thought it might be his cell phone or his landline, but then he realized that it was the doorbell.

      Muttering under his breath, he turned the water off, grabbed a towel to secure around his middle and padded out to the