Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

For those who asked, a longer chap. Hope you like. ;-)

It’s a powerful thing…

“Tell me about love, momma.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Will I ever find somebody to love, like you found daddy?”

“I think you will.”

“But how will I know when I’m in love?”

“Mmmm, it’s different for everybody. I used to get lightheaded when your father looked at me.”

“Was daddy very handsome?”

“Handsome, yes. Beautiful. But don’t ever tell him I said so because I certainly wouldn’t want his head to swell.”

“I hope the man I fall in love with make me feel lightheaded.”

“I hope so too, baby.”

Thud thud.

The beat was comforting in its steadiness. The soft but deep life-giving force enveloped her in a cocoon until it was all that she could hear. Her body was warm from where she touched his. She could feel each intake of breath he took, the rising of his chest almost in rhythm with his heart.

Thud thud.

She was frightened. Not since Tommy had she allowed herself to be this vulnerable. To be this open. At the same time this felt so right. And why shouldn’t she allow herself a chance at happiness. It was what Jarod ultimately wanted.

Thud thud.

His hand shifted slightly against her shoulder, his fingers relaxed. She didn’t move, knew that he was asleep. A log shifted and the crack sounded loud in the room. She held her breath, wondering if it had woken him.

Thud thud.

The slow rhythm of his breathing didn’t change. She let hers out slowly, feeling her heart settle down again to a steadier beat that matched the one just underneath her ear.

Thud thud..

Too fast. All this is happening too fast. She didn’t even know who John really was. Could she trust him? Did she want to trust him? She thought back to Tommy but her memories were too painful and she felt tears burning her eyes.

Thud thud.

She was startled when she felt him move and only then realised the slightly wet patch beneath her cheek. She knew that he was awake, yet his breathing didn’t change. She wanted to say something but no words came.

Thud thud.

She could feel the play of muscles against her back as his arm tightened around her. He waited for her as the silence expanded and she tried to calm her thudding heart. His breath stirred against her when he whispered, “Where do you hide your strength?”

Thud thud.

There was no strength in her now. She shifted upwards and pressed her cheek into the comfortable curvature of his neck and shoulder. For once in her life she wanted to let go of the discipline that had protected her all these years since her mother had died but she couldn’t. She silently asked for his understanding and for a time he only held her, recognising her need for simple comfort.

Thud thud.

Somewhere in that moment she fell asleep again.

He opened his eyes and shuddered, staring at the white walls. He was hot again, pulse pounding underneath his burning skin. Something cold pressed onto his forehead, bringing with it welcome relief. His gaze shifted towards his left, blurred and unfocused, trying to decipher the mixture of colours that shifted in his viewpoint. Tired, he closed his eyes.

He had to remember but he couldn’t seem to focus. He took shallow breaths even while his body shook from the fever. He didn’t know for how long he continued like this until in one of his wakeful moments he realised that he was starting to feel better.

The next time he woke, she stood by his bed. She acknowledged his stare with a smile. He had watched as she continued to take his vitals, her fingers slightly cold on his wrist.

“How do you feel?”

He had to swallow before he could answer. His throat was raw, his voice scratchy. “Sore.”

She nodded as if she had expected the answer while she wrote his observations on his chart. He changed position and then winced when his body protested in pain. His thoughts shifted, and he realised that he had no idea how he had ended up here. Swallowing, he managed to ask,” What happened?”

Her eyes filled with concern and then became guarded. She moved around the bed and he followed her with his eyes.

“What do you remember?”

He closed his eyes, thinking. Panic seared through him when he realised he had no idea who he was. He didn’t know his own name. He didn’t know what he looked like. He didn’t know…and then a hand was on his arm, insistent.

“Take deep breaths, John. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

He opened his eyes, focusing on her as he tried to comply. His heart continued to beat at a frantic pace while he concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths. “That’s it….slow breaths.” Her voice was oddly compelling, calming him until he felt he was in control again.

“I don’t remember who….who I am,” he managed to whisper, his eyes searching hers, hoping for an answer.

“It’s normal with head trauma like yours. It will come back. Don’t worry.”

He believed her. He had no idea how, but he knew medically what she meant. Was he a doctor? He wasn’t given a chance to delve further. She turned his head sideways and he felt the bandage stretch across his skin. Suddenly afraid, he stiffened.

“It’s ok, John. I just want to have a look,” she said warmly.

He could feel the coolness of the air against his skin and he didn’t want to know. He remembered a girl, her face disfigured by a scalpel but the memory shifted before he could fully grasp it. He could hear her make small sounds underneath her breath as she held his head, prodding slightly.

“It’s healing quiet nicely. There would be some scarring but not as bad as we had thought.”

His mind still reeling from all the sensory input, he tried to make sense. “Some?”

“Get some sleep, John. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

He wanted to protest, to ask what she meant but his body betrayed him and before he had a chance to ask, he fell asleep.

He remembered who he was two weeks later and then he understood why he wasn’t back at the Centre. He could still vividly recall his conversation with her.

“Dr Walker?”

She smiled and nodded. She left his bedside and closed the door, locking it. He wasn’t surprised or alarmed.

“They think you’re dead.”

He frowned. The simple expression hurt to perform and his face smoothed out again before he asked with dread, “Who?”

“The Centre.”

And he remembered clearly how she knew about the Centre. He had helped out at the clinic she had worked, trying to catch a doctor that had misused his knowledge to get his patients hooked on drugs unwittingly. She had caught onto his pretend and had confronted him. He didn’t know how, but she had managed to get his DSA case and had watched one of the little discs. He had no choice but to tell the truth and once she knew, she had allowed him to continue with his pretend.

He met her gaze, trying to understand. “How?”

“I recognised Miss Parker and when I asked one of the nurses she told me about a patient who had been in a hit and run accident. I knew that if you survived, they would take you back. So I transferred you and told Dr Green that you had died from your injuries.”

He unconsciously simmed the whole scenario. He could well imagine what Sydney and Miss Parker had gone through.

“He would have wanted to see me. How did you…”

“He did. You were really in a bad way, Jarod. I wasn’t even sure that we could bring you back. You flat lined while he was with you. He was removed from the room while we worked on you. We barely got you back. I went out and told him that we had been unable to bring you back. That your injuries had been too severe. He believed me.”

He listened as the tale unfolded. When she finished, he could see a possible future but he needed to make sure. “Didn’t they claim my body?”

“I told Dr Green that the coroner needed to do an autopsy to determine the cause of death. Also, that only next of kin could claim the body and seeing that his surname wasn’t the same, I couldn’t in good conscience release your body to him. It was almost two weeks later when a man called Lyle came with a certificate and a claim that he was your cousin. I told him that you had already been cremated. He was understandably upset, but I gave him the autopsy file. There were some very unflattering photos of you in there.”

“And he bought it?”
“You’re still here,” she replied seriously.

After that revelation, Dr Walker had left him alone. He had spent the whole of that day and the next running simulations and scenarios until he was satisfied that his plan would work. Knowing that if the Centre thought that he was off their radar, that she would be free.

And he knew exactly where she would go. He had Dr Walker transferred to Maine, along with himself. Still recovering, he had made friends with the O’Connell’s and they had invited him to their home.

What he had not planned was meeting her that first night. He had to cover his surprise when he saw her. It had taken all of his skills as a pretender not to react when she had told him that he had reminded her of someone. He full well knew because he was that someone. He almost told her when they sat outside and he had to remind himself sternly of his goal.

He looked at her sleeping figure in his arms, knowing his goal was being realised.

The first thing she realised when she woke was that she was alone. Disappointment filled her as she opened her eyes and noted that she was stretched out on the couch, a pillow beneath her head. She pushed herself to a sitting position, blinking her eyes against the sunlight that streamed through the windows. Running her hand through her hair, she suppressed a yawn. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept this well.

She could hear Ben humming in the kitchen. Smiling, she rose and stretched languidly, enjoying the relaxed feel of her muscles. She made her way towards her bedroom and stopped in her doorway when she took in the state of her room. She had to hold on the door jam while her heart continued to thump away.

Her bed was covered in red rose petals. The cream coloured duvet only enhanced the whole effect. An envelope had been placed in the centre of the pillow. She couldn’t help the grin that was slowly spreading across her face or the trembling of her hand as she ran it through the silkiness of the petals. Breathing in the aroma that hangs over the bed, she seated herself and opened the envelope.

Meet me at the pier at ten.

Again the handwriting looked oddly familiar. Frowning, she placed it on the bed. She took out Jarod’s letter and placed it next to the other. She could see some similarities in the way the words had been formed, but not enough to validate her suspicions. Half remembered words taunted her briefly from last night. She didn’t have time to continue her musings when a soft knock sounded and she looked up into Ben’s smile.

“Slept well?”

“I did, thanks,” she replied, wondering just how much Ben knew about John. As if he could hear her thoughts, Ben entered the room and said, “He’s a good man, Miss Parker. And he cares deeply about you.”

“What we had as kids is not the same now.”

Ben studied her, waiting for her. “I don’t even know who he really is.” She didn’t know if she said it out of frustration or as an excuse.

“Do you trust him?”

Funny that Ben would ask that question. Trust. She had trusted Tommy. Not with everything, true, but she had allowed him into a part of her life that was closed of to others. And he’s now dead.

“Yes.”

Even to herself, it came out unexpected and a surprise. Ben only smiled, his brown eyes looking at hers knowingly.

“If I were you, Miss Parker, I’ll take a bath and then leave. Otherwise, you’ll be late for your meeting.”

He left her in her room, closing the door quietly behind him. She finally understood why her mother had Ben as a friend.

The sky was ominously gray. His hair was ruffled by the wind that whipped across the water. He turned from watching the small yachts pull against their mooring to watch her approach. She walked with a grace that took his breath away. He stayed where he was, leaning against the railing. She stopped next to him and he noticed the grip she had on the fence. Smiling, he turned and watched the white caps while every nerve was aware of her body next to his.

“I’m glad you could make it,” he said, watching her closely out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t answer. He turned his head, watching her in profile. Her dark hair stirred against the wind. He was in awe at the strength that showed itself in her bearing.

“You were right.”

Momentarily taken from his thoughts, he turned, leaning his hips on the railing. “About?”

She turned and looked up at him intently, her fire blue gaze probing deeply, searching his soul. “We both want the same thing…do you remember when you had said that?”

He swallowed; his mouth suddenly dry. She knew. How? She seemed to understand his silence. He didn’t move as she took a step closer, the distance between them a hand’s-breadth. All the comebacks and words he had prepared dried up when she reached up and traced his scars with a feather-light touch. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, wondering what he was going to do now.

“I’ve known when I saw you that first time. I just couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to,” she said softly. He opened his eyes and watched as she studied him intently. A light gust of wind drew a strand of hair across her face, and this time he reached out and moved it back, tucking it behind her ear. The wind had the scent of rain in it.

“I like John.”

He smiled, understanding her meaning behind the words. “Jarod’s dead.”

She laughed and he joined her. Saying those words brought freedom for them both. They understood the deeper meaning behind it. The new beginning that stared them in the face. He couldn’t help himself. He pulled her into a tight embrace, wondering suddenly at the feeling of lightness he experienced. She returned his embrace, leaning into his body.

They stood like that for minutes, until a light gust of wind tucked at them, reminding them that the first winter’s storm was on its way. Pulling her slightly back, he kissed her forehead, whispering her name. Then his lips moved along her velvet cheek to her mouth. He heard the soft intake of breath as their lips touched and he wondered at the fragile texture of her mouth and why it came as a surprise that so much could be said with no words.