Her vulnerability in the kiss dizzied his senses. This one glorious expression of their feelings for one another. This wasn’t letting off steam. It wasn’t a kiss laid with a foundation of fear and mistakes.

  Her feelings were clear, and he reciprocated with gentle ease, patient yearning and hopeful restraint.

  Before the warm moment fanned into a flame that might burn too hot, he gradually and begrudgingly brought it to a close. Pulling away only an inch, he smiled when Grace sat like a statue, eyes remaining closed and a tiny smirk on her lips, cheeks flushed.

  She finally opened her eyes, her arms still encircling his neck. A satisfied smile filled her face.

  “Was that okay?” he murmured.

  “That was more than okay, Hollister Montgomery. And you know it.”

  The wonder on her face swelled in his chest as if she’d never kissed anyone before, and then it dawned on him. Grace didn’t remember a first kiss. A couple of flashes of memory where two men she never loved—never truly cared for—had kissed her. Not the same.

  This here, this moment, was like Grace’s first kiss ever. The thought drove him to her lips again. Simple. Easy. Delicate. Then he pecked her forehead and she sighed and leaned against the couch.

  “Hollister?”

  “Yeah?”

  She touched her lips, wiped her teary eyes. “If I had a whole self to give, I’d want to give it to you. I’d want to love you for my entire life.”

  The elation he’d just felt came crashing down in that one word: if.

  “But I don’t,” she said and stood. “I don’t regret those kisses. I do regret not being able to do it again.” A small hiccup came from her and her bottom lip trembled. “I’m not free. I’m not sure I ever will be and that’s not fair to you.”

  He wanted to argue with her. But she was right. She wasn’t free—not of her past. And he couldn’t be that freedom for her. No matter how many pep talks or reassurances that her past didn’t matter to him. No matter how many scriptures he quoted that revealed she was a new person in Christ. Until she believed it for herself, it was hopeless.

  Only God could break through her fear, the deception that had her convinced she wasn’t good enough—for God, or for Hollis. And even if she did break through that fear, even if she did give her heart to Hollis, when those memories came back she might change her mind and he’d be left picking up all the broken shards.

  The reality was entirely too agonizing. Grace couldn’t be his. Not now.

  Maybe not ever.

  TEN

  The clock read 4:12 a.m. Grace had gone to bed after leaving Hollis alone on the couch last night. She’d curled up under foreign sheets and blankets that smelled like Cord’s house and not Hollis. His scent—though hard to describe—was in her memory. One she would remember always.

  Those kisses.

  It had been so much more than two people connecting physically. The past week had been one nightmare after another, and her only solid in it all was Hollis. He’d been there from the start of her new beginning. The first person she’d laid eyes on when she’d awoken from the coma. And in her mind, the first man she’d ever kissed.

  Peter and Hector didn’t count.

  Except they did. How far had Grace gone for the sake of protecting her country? How many compromises did she make? What would come barreling into her consciousness when—if—she could remember again?

  Surely nothing as pure, as beautiful, as tender as Hollister Montgomery’s kisses. Nothing that could cause every nerve in her body to hum with joy and hope. Nothing that could heat her blood and skyrocket her pulse. Nothing that could make her feel as safe and cherished. She could still feel it, taste it.

  Fresh tears fell.

  Last night had been unfair to him. She’d been selfish—she had a sneaky feeling she always had been.

  Giving him those two wonderful kisses had been misleading. They didn’t have a future together. They couldn’t. The best thing for her to do was walk away, disappear.

  This wasn’t Hollis’s battle to fight. It was hers. Last night all she wanted was Hollis by her side. Just him and her and the world. But how selfish was that? He could get himself killed. And even if they did get this whole sordid nightmare worked out, who was to say other enemies wouldn’t come for her? She might have dozens of people she’d double-crossed, angered...people who had scores to settle.

  She gathered the pillows around her and stared out the window. Dr. Sayer had given her an overload of info. Clive Epps may have been responsible for her mom and dad’s death. A man she thought she could trust—had trusted, based on the funeral memory.

  A possible dirty agent.

  Her vision blurred and a memory thrust itself to the forefront of her mind.

  Peter Rainey was dressed in black, a dagger in his hand. His right eye was swollen and purple. Blood dripped from a gash in his head.

  They stood on a bank, the muddy Mississippi rolling by. And it began to rain. That’s why all this weather kept teetering on the edges of her mind as if trying to make a memory come.

  “Don’t do this, Noel.” Noel! That was his real name! “Don’t force me to kill you,” Grace said.

  “Always overconfident in your abilities.”

  Her body ached and multiple wounds Noel had inflicted on her ran with sticky blood.

  “Not overconfident. Just confident I can end you.”

  “Going your own way can’t help you now. It’s caught up to you and is going to get you killed.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you mean killed by you...think again.”

  Peter raised the blade and Grace grinned and motioned him to bring it on. “Blades are my favorite. Should have shot me... Oh wait... I disarmed you. Twice.”

  “I want that toxin, Max.”

  “You and everyone else. This is your final warning or the last thing you’re going to see is me standing over you in this dress...and the last thing you’ll feel is my heel in your neck.”

  He hesitated. But then he made his move and came out swinging. Grace dodged the blade once, twice, then it sliced her side and she winced but kept fighting, kept moving. Peter—Noel—dove and toppled her to the ground, his hand sliding up the edge of her dress and retrieving the small can she’d strapped to her thigh.

  “Max, you’re so predictable. You should know I’m not polite enough to ask permission before a body search.”

  Grace grabbed his neck and squeezed. “I’ll take your less than gentlemanly behavior and raise you an unladylike gesture.” She kneed his groin, but before Grace could roll away, he pulled the small aerosol can out and smirked.

  “Bye, Max.”

  Fear coursed through her veins. “Noel...don’t do this. You’re making a mistake.” She leaped to her feet, raised her hands in surrender.

  “No, I’m following orders, unlike you.” He blasted the spray and an indescribable burning singed her lungs as a bitter taste coated her throat. Her chest tightened and a splitting headache came on like a freight train. She was losing her ability to move; her body began to seize.

  She fell to her knees. “Noel... Noel!”

  His boot met her face and she toppled over the embankment.

  The last thing she felt was the freezing water carrying her away and the unbelievable burning in her blood.

  Grace sucked in a breath and tore the covers from her body as she jumped from the memory and the bed. Peter Rainey—Noel—had betrayed her by attempting her murder! He’d beaten her up and, in the end, left her for dead in the river water.

  He was following orders.

  Dr. Sayer must have been telling the truth. Clive sent Noel to murder her and take the aerosol and research to sell for his own dirty, personal gain.

  She flew from the bedroom and smacked into Cord.

  “Hey,” he said. “I was just...”

  “Just what? It’s four thirty in the morning.” She glared at him, that ball of rage rising with suspicion. He had no business lurking around her room this early—or at all. Even if it was his house. She might not be able to trust him. Anyone.

  Grace’s hand shot out and she squeezed Cord’s neck and pushed him against the wall. “Just...making sure...you had towels.”

  He’d already told them they had fresh towels. He was lying. He’d come to kill her! Was he in on this too? She stepped in and continued to apply immobilizing pressure. “No one is going to get the jump on me again. Do you hear me?”

  “Grace,” Hollis’s voice caught her attention. “Grace, let go of Cord or you’re going to crush his larynx.”

  Confusion muddied her mind. Adrenaline flooded her veins.

  “Grace,” Cord said with a measure of raspy calm. “I don’t want to hurt you, but if you don’t let me go, I will.”

  “Grace,” Hollis said in a hushed tone. “Let go, honey. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe.”

  One more squeeze and that’d be it for Cord—his threats were useless. She had him literally by the throat and instinct told her this would take a dinosaur down if necessary. She wasn’t calling his bluff.

  “Please, Grace,” Hollis whispered.

  Hollis. She could trust Hollis. Only him. She blinked then released Cord as the fog cleared and the fear subsided only to be replaced with utter shame. “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what happened.”

  The memory had triggered her mistrust, brought back old ways. The paranoia had been overwhelming. What kind of life must that have been? To be so on edge all the time?

  “Please forgive me,” she said.

  Cord blew a heavy breath and rubbed his throat.

  Grace couldn’t force herself to look him in the eye. Or Hollis.

  “Did you have another memory, Grace?” Hollis asked.

  “Yes. Peter Rainey’s real name is Noel. And he tried to kill me. He had orders. I assume from Clive Epps. He...he sprayed me with the toxin and kicked me into the water, Hollis. He left me for dead.”

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, but didn’t come near to hug her. After last night, he apparently was going to keep his distance. Couldn’t blame him. It would be smart—for anyone to steer clear of her. She was a ticking time bomb, an unpredictable mess. And everywhere she turned danger came for her full force.

  “I’m gonna go on the porch and get some air.” She slipped by him outside into the dank morning weather.

  Fifteen minutes later, Hollis came outside and handed her a mug of steaming coffee. “Patsy just woke up.”

  “Glad she missed the show.”

  “I’m sure she’s seen you in action.” He inhaled deeply. “What are you thinking?”

  Last night he’d asked the same thing and it had ended in kissing. That wouldn’t happen today. “Hollis, in my memory, I told a man I was going to kill him. Going to impale him with my heel—that’s kinda morbid. I didn’t blink twice. And... I wasn’t afraid of him. I knew I could take him and I didn’t want to—but also it didn’t seem to bother me that I was going to have to in order to save my skin.”

  Hollis sipped his coffee. “When I was on tours, I didn’t bat an eye when I was surrounded by violence. I couldn’t. One blink is all it takes, Grace, to go from living to dead. You don’t get to feel guilty or afraid. You just have to do the job. And in that memory, in that moment, you were doing the job as well as defending yourself. He brutally broke you.”

  “In his defense, I brutally broke him too.”

  Hollis chuckled. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a real bad-to-the-bone kind of woman?”

  “Maybe,” she teased, thankful for the lightness Hollis always disarmed her with. “I can’t remember.”

  He playfully nudged her shoulder with his. “I’m sure in memories that haven’t surfaced yet, you feel deeply about what you did, not only to Peter Rainey or whoever he was, but to any human being. I know I did—do. But that’s when I have to give it to God. Let Him heal and comfort me.”

  “It’s hard to be healed when you don’t even know all your ailments.”

  Like that fury that always boiled to the surface and begged to be unleashed from the pot, to spill out and scald. Like vengeance.

  “God knows. And for now, that’s enough. Once you recognize the ailment and the cause, then you get to decide what to do with it. You can choose healing—or not. God is always willing and ready if you choose the former.” He tucked a hair behind her ear. “And as far as what you said last night... I agree. I shouldn’t have kissed you at all. I don’t regret the actual kiss. I don’t even regret the emotion behind it. I just regret it because, Grace, it was powerful. And it’s going to be tough to not think about it—or not to do it again. But I won’t. We’ll continue being what we are. I think that’s best.”

  “Favorite friends?” she asked and tried not to die inside. Powerful. Perfect description.

  “Absolutely. I’ll take you to Tish’s and then I need to help Cord with some flood issues. I won’t be far and he’s putting a deputy on the inn, so you have protection...or in your case, backup.” He chuckled until it turned into a full-blown laugh. “Or just a bystander.”

  “I’m glad my skills amuse you.”

  “Woman, you are impressive in so many ways.”

  “Not intimidating?” she asked, loving that he didn’t mind the fact she could be strong, as strong or even stronger than him. And he didn’t mind when she was shaking in her boots either.

  “Oh, honey, you’re both. I love it all.”

  Love.

  A wall of tension built.

  He cleared his throat. “I need to get ready. We’ll leave in an hour. Cord and I think it’s best if he keeps Patsy lying low at the station. She’s a flight risk. She may be telling you the truth, but I don’t trust her, and it’s smart and safer to keep some distance between the two of you.”

  Made sense. She nodded and swallowed the lump rising in her throat. Did he love all her ways or did he love her? The answer was embedded deep and it hurt too much to think about.

  Hollis loved her.

  And she loved him.

  But they didn’t have the opportunity to let it unfold—at least Grace didn’t. If she kept hanging around, relying on Hollis for everything she’d keep him as trapped as she was now with no memory—no way to forge ahead into the future. It wasn’t a choice for her, but it was for Hollis.

  He deserved to fall in love with someone who could make a life with him. She had the love down. Just not the life. And he agreed with her—said it was best. But the feelings were still there and as long as she was here, there might always be a tiny drop of hope.

  For once, she needed to do the right thing and let him have a chance at love. By some standards what she was about to do would be considered stupid. Cowardly even. But she didn’t see it that way.

  Leaving was brave.

  Leaving was sacrificial. It released Hollis from the prison of loving her and set him free to move on. Fall in love. Marry. Have a family. He might never be safe with her.

  She needed to take this fight far away from Hollis, Tish, Cottonwood and all the people she cared about and loved. Hollis had no idea Grace was the flight risk.

  Grace would take what she did know and dig for the truth. She’d keep CCM abreast but without including Hollis. Surely, she could trust Wilder Flynn to keep her whereabouts confidential. She had some savings from working at the inn; if she hired them, they’d have to. As of now, they were simply doing Hollis a favor.

  But she wanted Hollis to understand. She headed for the guest room and grabbed the paper and pen she’d been using to compile lists and wrote him a letter.

  In the truck, she slipped it into his raincoat pocket.

  “I’ll be here around noon for lunch. We’re gonna need all hands on deck. Wilmington Road has flooded and the neighborhood behind it is in danger and needs to be evacuated.”

  She wouldn’t be around at lunch. Grace fought the urge to cry.

  Instead, she touched his cheek. “You’re my favorite,” she choked out and held his gaze. Not that she could forget those eyes and handsome face. Not in a million years.

  He seemed confused and studied her a moment. “You’re my favorite too.”

  She held her tongue for fear she’d confess how much she loved him and then he’d convince her to stay and maybe to try at a futile attempt to be a couple. Their first date would probably be interrupted by gunfire or bombs.

  Grace exited the truck and hurried inside the inn before he saw the truth on her face. That was her goodbye.

  Inside, she greeted Tish and donned an apron under the pretense of work. Once Tish was minding her own business and unable to see her leave or ask questions, she’d slip out. She grabbed a tray of pastries and entered the dining area. The crowd was slim. She set the tray on the buffet, turned and gasped.

  Sitting at a table by the window looking right at her was the woman from an earlier memory. Her roommate. The friend who had warned her about Hector.

  But was she friend...or foe?

  * * *

  Hollis tossed his jacket over his couch, rain dripping from it and creating a small puddle on his office floor. He checked the gear hanging on the hooks in case they got a call out and made sure they had a good supply of life vests on hand.

  Even as he worked, he was completely unsettled by Grace’s behavior and what she said before she jumped out of the truck. What was going on in her pretty little head? Had she recovered more memory and refrained from divulging? How bad could it have been this time?

  Who knew where Grace was concerned?

  He couldn’t deny loving the Grace he’d come to know. Who she’d been didn’t matter to him. The past was gone. But he’d had another thought late in the night when he’d replayed yesterday in his head. Grace armed to the hilt, riding around on a four-wheeler and defending all of them. The way she calculated scenarios. Had she gone to the truck instead of the barn for the ATV, she and Patsy would be dead. Maybe Hollis too.