Chapter 11

 

They drove back into Minnesota and through mile after mile of green cropland. They passed field after field of corn several inches tall. Jane stared out the window, watching the straight green rows with black dirt between them flash past in a dizzying pattern, until she closed her eyes against the sight.

“Tired?” Mel asked, glancing at her.

“Yes, I guess I am.”

“Only a few more miles now, until we get to St. Peter.” He pulled up at a stop sign and turned south onto a four lane highway.

Soon they arrived in the small town. Mel glanced at her as they drove along the main street of town. “Anything look familiar here?”

She frowned, trying to concentrate. “I’m not sure. I mean, the stores and buildings in most of these towns look alike, don’t they? I think they all used the same architect.”

Mel laughed. “They probably did. I doubt they were too concerned about looks back around the turn of the twentieth century when a lot of these were built. Function was more important to our pioneers, I’m sure.”

Mel circled around through some of the residential area, but nothing seemed right to Jane. “There aren’t enough really big trees,” she said. “I don’t think this is the town, either.”

“Well, we’ll stay here tonight and try some others in the morning,” Mel said.

“Let’s eat here,” Jane said, pointing to a new-looking restaurant. ”This one looks nice.”

They went inside and sat in a booth next to a window which looked out on the street. The food smelled delicious and a very friendly waitress appeared almost immediately with a pot of coffee that she poured as soon as they nodded assent. Mel took advantage by asking the waitress if she’d lived there during the tornado a few years before.

“No, I lived in Mankato then,” she said. “But I hear it was a doozy.”

“Did it do a lot of damage around here?”

The young girl nodded. “It destroyed this restaurant, that’s why we have a new building. There are some before and after pictures over there on the wall.”

“Thanks, we’ll look at them.”

“I’m sure the library has lots more pictures and articles from the newspaper, too. It’s open until nine, if you want to see them.”

Mel smiled. “Good idea. Thanks.”

They ordered chicken dinners and then got up to look at the pictures on the wall.

Jane gasped when she saw the before picture of the town with all the tall trees lining the boulevard of main street. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “This looks just like the street in my dream!”

“Good!” Mel said satisfaction in his voice. “Maybe our search is almost over!”

Jane stared at the picture for long minutes and then they returned to their booth. The waitress brought their food.

“What do you think it means?” Jane asked Mel. “Could I just be remembering being here sometime?”

“I think it probably means it was a memory rather than a dream,” Mel said. “But your mind could be mixing up various memories and making up a new story or combination of scenes from them.”

“You mean the dream could be like fiction, instead of a true memory?”

“Maybe. Or some true and some fiction scenes all mixed together.”

“Ha,” Jane said with a derisive laugh. “I doubt that. I never was any good at writing fiction in English class.”

He glanced at her sharply. “How do you know you weren’t?”

She sobered immediately. “I don’t know. That just popped out. Damn, but it’s frustrating not to know what is the truth and what isn’t. How can I trust my own brain when it remembers some things and doesn’t remember others? How do I know what’s a true memory and what isn’t?”

Mel picked up his fork and began eating his chicken. “I don’t think there is any way to know, Jane. We’ll just have to play things by ear and see what you remember or don’t remember as we go along. Don’t worry about it.”

After dinner, they drove around the town, up one street and down another. Finally, as they drove down a side street, Jane said, “Stop!”

Mel pulled to the curb. “What is it?”

She pointed to a tall, white clapboard house. “That’s it. That’s the house in my dream.”

They got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk. “Are you sure?”

Jane nodded. “The big tree that was out in the front boulevard is gone, but I remember that it was lying down after the storm, so that fits. They probably planted those two baby trees there later.”

Mel rang the doorbell. A young woman answered, a small boy peeking at them from behind her jeans-clad leg. “Yes?”

Jane stepped forward. “Hello. Do you remember me?”

The woman stared at her. “No. Should I?”

“I used to live in the apartment upstairs in this house,” Jane said, disappointment showing clearly in her voice.

“Oh,” the woman said. “Well, that was probably before our time, then. It used to be divided into apartments, but we remodeled it into all one house now.”

“How long ago was that?”

“We bought the house a couple of years ago, after Mrs. Haynes died. Her son said she rented out the top half to college students. Did you go to Gustavus?”

“Gustavus?” Jane asked, puzzled.

“Gustavus Adolphus, the college up there on the hill.” She nodded at some buildings to the west.

“Oh. Yes, of course.” Jane gave her a smile. “Well, I’m sorry to bother you. I’m sort of looking up old haunts, you know?”

“Sure thing,” the woman said. “Good night.” She smiled and closed the door.

They walked back to the car. “So much for that,” Jane said dejectedly.

“What do you mean?” Mel asked. “I think we learned a lot.”

Jane turned to stare at him. “Like what?”

“Like the fact that if you lived upstairs there, you were probably a student at that college,” Mel said.

Jane shrugged. “So what? There were probably thousands of students at that college.”

“True,” Mel said, with a satisfied smirk. “But colleges keep records.”

Jane laughed. “Have you forgotten you need a name to look up a record?”

Mel leaned over, took her face between his hands and gave her a kiss. “Have you forgotten college yearbooks? They put everyone’s picture in them!”

”Oh. Well, I suppose. But we don’t even know for sure what year I was here. It would take hours to go through all the yearbooks of the possible years.”

He grinned and started the car. “We know you were here the year the tornado hit. And we’ve got all weekend, haven’t we?”

“We’d better get a motel room, first, though, don’t you think? It’ll be dark, soon.”

“All right. We passed a motel back on the highway.”

He drove back to it and went into the office. In a few minutes he was back. “I got a room, but it’s at another motel and the clerk says it’s probably the last one in fifty miles. There’s a big celebration in a nearby town, so all the rooms have been sold out for weeks. Okay?”

Jane swallowed and her heartbeat sped up. She’d be sharing a room with Mel? But who was she to complain? It wasn’t the first time and he was footing the bill for this weekend, after all. Her paycheck wasn’t going to cover it. She looked away, her tongue refusing to answer immediately. Finally, she managed to blurt out, “Whatever.”

That sounded like she didn’t care. But she did. She cared way too much. And she knew she shouldn’t. She had no right to care, might never have a right to care.

He smiled, patted her hand and drove several blocks to the other motel.

She frowned at the sight of the little one story motel.

He shrugged and said, “It doesn’t look like much, does it? I guess I should have called ahead to make reservations before we left home. It’s usually not a problem in these little towns.”

“I didn’t think of making reservations ahead of time, either,” she admitted. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

He went into the office to pay for the room. Then he moved the car to a parking spot in front of their room. He got their luggage from the trunk and she followed him inside.

It was worse than she’d expected. The room was tiny and there was a dresser/desk combination with a television set and a phone on it. There was a mirror above it and a chair. And only one bed. It wasn’t even queen-sized, only a double.

“Well, at least the room is clean and neat,” she said, trying to make the best of a bad situation. She peeked into the bath. A sink hung on the wall, a stool and a tiny shower stall with a plastic curtain. Pathetic.

“Yes, it is clean,” Mel agreed, setting down their suitcases and eyeing the bed. “Though you can’t say much else in favor of the place, can you?”

“Let’s go see the rest of the town before it gets dark,” she suggested.

“Good idea.”

They drove around, but nothing really seemed familiar to Jane. She tried to concentrate on looking at houses and buildings, but all she could think about was that tiny motel room she was going to share with Mel tonight. Would this be their last night together if she discovered her past here? She hoped not.

At the college, she asked Mel to stop at the unusual Chapel. He parked and they walked across the neat lawn. The pleasant fragrance of freshly cut grass assailed their noses. Small green shrubs surrounded by white rock edged the building and sidewalks.

Jane peeked in the long narrow windows. The chapel was closed and empty and no one seemed to be around, so she didn’t think anyone would mind if she looked inside.

The building had a ridiculous amount of glass windows in it. “I wonder how that survived the tornado,” she said. “A strong wind certainly must have taken out all that glass, don’t you think?”

“I would think so,” Mel agreed. “From the pictures we saw and the way the trees are newly planted here, it looks like the tornado came over this hill from the west, hitting the college first and then sweeping down into the main part of town.”

“I hate to think of the damage the storm did. I’m glad they’ve repaired most of it already.”

“Yes, those pictures were awful. It’s amazing how normal everything looks again.”

“I love the way the setting sun lights up the building. Isn’t it beautiful? I’ll bet it’s really something when the organ is playing and the choir singing. I can almost hear them in my head.”

“Yeah?” Mel looked at her. “Are you sure it’s your imagination or a memory?”

She sighed and turned to stare at the buildings around her, then looked back at him. “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded bleak, even to herself. Would she ever know the truth?

“Come on,” he said taking her arm and leading her back to his car. “It’s getting late. Let’s go check out the library for a while before they close.”

“All right.”

At the library, Mel asked for copies of the local newspapers for the dates right after the tornado.

“We have them on microfiche right over here,” the librarian said, showing them to a table. She gave them instructions, then left.

Jane grabbed a chair and watched as Mel pulled up pictures and articles. There were lots of them, each one more effusive as reporter after reporter showed them the devastation of the small town and surrounding area. She saw houses without windows or roofs and boards and debris from homes and businesses covering the yards and streets. There were pictures of huge uprooted trees lying in the street, blocking traffic, then of crews of men and volunteers with chain saws and trucks, cleaning up the mess.

Jane pointed to a picture of a street clogged with downed trees. “That picture looks like the street in my dream,” she said. A horrible thought hit her. “What if I just read about this and the dream is only from my memory of seeing these newspaper pictures?”

“But that wouldn’t explain your memory of that actual house we found, would it? Or the lady who lived there? Or the wind and rain and hiding from the storm in the basement?”

She sighed, relieved at his logic. “You’re right. It must be more than that.”

Mel tried not to notice the way she leaned close to him to look over his shoulder at the screen in front of him. Her silky red hair brushed against his cheek. The soft, floral scent she wore teased his nostrils and sent a shimmer of desire running along his veins.

He thought of the tiny motel room they would share tonight and swallowed a groan. His jeans were too tight already, just thinking about it. He shifted in his chair, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

He couldn’t wait to go back to the motel and make mad love to her again. He wanted to ask her to marry him and stay with him forever, no matter what her past. But he knew she wasn’t ready to think about anything like that. She’d been careful to pull back whenever he’d tried to get closer. She was afraid of what her past had held and wary of what the future held. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t keep him from wanting to claim her.

He wanted to help her regain her memory. But what if doing so meant he would lose her? What if she remembered she loved someone else and wanted to return to her old life?

He shuddered and pushed the thought away. He’d face whatever came when it came. But they could enjoy each other for tonight at least.

They looked at various pictures of the tornado and read the newspaper articles about it until the librarian announced it was closing time.

Reluctantly, they left.

“How about some hot chocolate?” Mel asked as he started the car.

“That sounds delicious,” Jane said eagerly. Anything to put off returning to that tiny motel room. How could she want him so much and yet be afraid to be alone with him? She was really letting this uncertainty get to her. In fact, she was scared to death of what she might find tomorrow. Tonight might be the end of their time together. They spent an hour chatting over their chocolate.

Back at the motel, Mel said, “Go ahead and use the bathroom first, Jane. I’ll just catch the news.”

Was he nervous, too? She didn’t think anything ever fazed him. “All right,” she said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time.”

She got into her pajamas, suddenly nervous and thankful that she’d brought a pair that you couldn’t see through. Which was silly, ‘cause they’d both soon be naked, she was sure. They’d seen each other before, several times, so why cover up now? When she came back, she gave him a tentative smile. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

She picked up her hairbrush and began her nightly ritual of brushing her long hair.

He was back in a few minutes, barefoot, wearing a blue plaid robe, his hair still damp from his shower. She was curled up in a sitting position against the headboard of the bed, watching television. He climbed in beside her and she eyed him and bit her lip.

“Are you nervous?” Mel asked.

She nodded, unable to speak.

Mel sat on the bed beside her and took her in his arms. He kissed her lips, her neck then lower, running a hand under her pajamas, along her bare back. Gazing into her eyes, he asked, “Nervous about making love, or about what we may learn about you tomorrow?”

“Both, I think,” she said with a little smile. “I want you, you know I do, Mel. But what about tomorrow? I mean, if I find out I’m already married?”

“It’s a possibility,” Mel admitted. “Sheriff Ben wondered if you were a battered wife.”

Her stomach clenched. “Battered wife?”

He nodded. “It happens pretty often, he says.”

She looked at him and knew it was time to tell him. No matter what happened, she wanted him to know how she felt now. “I love you, Mel. Whatever happens when I get my memory back, remember that, will you?”

“I love you, too, Jane. I hope we can solve the mystery of your past, so we can have a future together.”

She swallowed and met his eyes. “Mel, I—I care about you, too, but I have no idea who or what my former life held. I can’t get involved with anyone until I know who I was and what my life was like. Can you understand that?”

“Perfectly. We’ll take one day at a time and deal with things as we meet them, okay?”

“Love me, Mel. Let’s make memories tonight, even if this is the oddest place to make them. Even if it’s our last time together.”

“Good idea. You’re so sweet.” He reached out and took her in his arms again and kissed her.

“Whatever happens, I love you.”

“I love you, too. No matter what we find, I know you’re a wonderful person. You could never be anything but that to me.” He unbuttoned her top, kissing each breast and perky nipple as he uncovered it. She shivered in pleasure and pushed his robe off to explore his bare skin.

His robe and then her pajamas disappeared onto the floor. He knelt in front of her and ran his tongue along her belly, then spread her legs and moved lower to tease her clit.

“Mel!” She grabbed his hair trying to pull him away, but he only tightened his grip on her legs. “Oh, my God, Mel!” she screamed and bucked in a glorious spasm.

He released her legs and slid inside her. She contracted tightly around him and met his thrusts faster and faster.

She couldn’t believe the hot spasms that had barely relaxed a bit could build again so fast. And again burst into stars as he shouted her name and joined her in release. Then he rolled to her side without leaving her body and pulled up the blanket, cuddling close.

~ * ~

When she awoke the next morning, she heard the shower running in the bathroom. She stretched, remembering the special, hot lovemaking they’d enjoyed last night, in spite of the small, too soft bed. But today was another day—the day they might succeed in discovering her identity. She knew they’d found enough clues to be close to the truth, now.

But would it mean the end of their relationship?

She couldn’t stop the images the sound of Mel’s shower brought to her mind. She closed her eyes, yet she could easily imagine him naked, water sluicing down his muscular chest, making his dark hair mat against the tanned skin. His long fingers holding the soapy washcloth and moving along his arms and down his long thighs. She wanted to join him, but if she did, they’d end up back in bed again.

Heat simmered along her veins and her mouth went dry. She opened her eyes and looked around the tiny motel room, but there wasn’t a drop of liquid in sight to slake her thirst. The only water was in the bathroom, with him.

She swallowed and moved her tongue around in her mouth, trying to start her salivary glands working. The sound of the shower stopped and she imagined him drying himself, which made heat rise to her face. He’d be coming out in a minute and she was still in bed.

She got up and grabbed her robe and slipped into it and found a fresh set of clothes to wear for the day.

A few minutes later he stepped out; she was half disappointed, yet relieved to see he was dressed.

He grinned at her and gave her a quick kiss. “Bathroom’s all yours, Sleepyhead.”

“I won’t be long.”

“Good, because I’m starving.”

She escaped into the bathroom. His eyes had said he was hungry for something besides food! She had to resist him even if she did love him.

But did she have a right to love anyone? If only she knew. Maybe today would give them some answers.

~ * ~

Jane felt Mel’s tension throughout breakfast. He said little and smiled less.

As they finished their coffee, she ventured to ask, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Where do you think we should go first?”

She shrugged. “I have no idea. I thought you would have a suggestion.”

“How about just driving around the college and seeing if anything seems familiar? Then I think we should go to the college library and page through yearbooks looking for your picture.”

“Sounds good to me.”

They drove up the hill to the college campus and all around the area. Mel watched Jane out of the corner of his eye, hoping for some excitement, for some reaction.

He’d thought yesterday that he’d seen some flicker of recognition when he drove up to the unusual and spectacular chapel. The sunlight had sparkled off the many windows, and Jane had smiled in delight.

On second thought, he realized her exclamations of surprise and pleasure had been comments anyone might use on seeing the wonderful building, not of recognition.

They found the library and went inside. They got yearbooks from the librarian and settled down at a table to look at them.

After an hour of paging through book after book, Jane said with a sigh, “Mel, I don’t think this is going to work.”

“Yes, it is,” Mel said stubbornly. “Just keep looking.”

Three books later, he found her.

“Here you are,” he said, sliding the book over to her. “Cara Maddet. See?”

Jane’s face paled and she leaned over to look at the picture. “It does look a little like me, though the hair is shorter and permed,” she said doubtfully.

“It’s you,” he returned. “I’m sure it is. Your name is Cara. Doesn’t it sound familiar to you at all?”

“Well, yes, a little familiar, but it feels more like it’s the name of a friend that I can’t quite place, you know?”

“I guess so.” Mel said. She didn’t really seem pleased at the discovery. Or was she just feeling nervous and wary?

“So, now what do we do? Does it give my home address?”

“It should be listed here somewhere.” He paged through the book until he found her home address in the back of the book. “You lived in Edina. Chances are your folks either still live there, or someone there will be able to tell us where they live now.”

She shivered and her face was still very pale. “So, we just go drop in on these people and ask them if they know me?”

Mel put his arm around her. “Don’t worry. If they’re your family, chances are they’ll be thrilled to see you. They must be worried sick, not knowing where you are.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. If they were, why didn’t they report me missing? Why wasn’t Sheriff Ben able to find me on the FBI’s missing person’s list?”

He shrugged, looking away. He’d certainly wondered the same thing himself.

Jane said stubbornly, “Maybe they don’t love me. Maybe I don’t even have a family anymore.”

He hugged her close, and said comfortingly, “Well, at least we’ll know what your life was like before. Even if we don’t find your family, with your name, now Ben can find out where you were living through your driver’s license or passport, if you have one.”

“Actually, I can check their name and address right on the computer.” He moved to the library computer, logged onto a search site and typed in the name and address he’d found. “It’s still a valid address for them,” he said. He printed out a map and driving directions and they left.

Halfway back to the Twin Cities, they stopped for lunch at a small restaurant. He ate his sandwich, while she only picked at the chef’s salad she’d ordered. He reached across the table and covered her hand with his.

“You need to eat something, Jane. I mean Cara.”

She glanced at him and gave him a wan smile. “Jane sounds more natural, Mel.”

“Are you that nervous about this?”

She nodded. “So nervous I’m sick to my stomach.” She pushed her plate away. “I can’t eat any more.”

“All right, then, let’s go.” He looked at the bill the waitress had left, tossed some money on the table and took her hand. “Come on, let’s get this over with. You’ll feel better after we eliminate the suspense.”

They followed the computer directions to an obviously affluent neighborhood in Edina. “There it is,” Mel said, turning into the blacktopped driveway of a large house with a neat yard edged in flowerbeds. He eyed Jane as she stared at it. He couldn’t read the expression on her face. “Anything look familiar?”

She shook her head and turned to look at him. Her wide green eyes had darkened to pools of fear.

“Hey, it’ll be all right,” he assured her. “If we don’t learn anything worthwhile, we’ll just go back home and continue as we were. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, you know.”

That brought a little smile to her pale face.

He came around and helped her out of the car and kept her hand in his as they walked to the front door and rang the bell.