"When can I go home and be me again?" I asked Caleb.

"Darlin'-" Tank started.

"I'm not your darling." He withdrew his hand from my hair he'd been stroking. "I'm not your anything."

I laid my head back against the couch and closed my eyes. A nagging pain pulsed behind them.

"You can go home anytime, Dix- Shelby. Your papers will take a bit of time and your house needs to be repaired." Caleb soothed.

"Our house is repaired." Tank bit out.

"Oh." Caleb was surprised; I could hear it in his voice. Against my better judgement, I smiled. Now I remembered how Tank got his name. When he wanted something, he could be very determined and single-minded and rolled over anything that got in his way.

I guess he would have fixed the damage. The house was his, after all. I'd moved in after we got married. For all I knew, he could have sold it by now. Why would he want to stay there anyway? Where would Polly and I watch movies?

"Polly!" I jolted upright. Caleb started forward and Tank reached out to steady me. I swatted his hand away and swung my legs to sit. "I have to call Polly. She thinks I'm dead!"

"We all thought you were dead." Tank's voice, full of hurt, washed over me. Maybe his apology before I'd been blasted by the bomb had been reality not a dream. I glanced down at my hands and was surprised to see them shaking.

I clasped them together and said, "Caleb, would you give Tank and me a few minutes?"

Caleb stepped out and I shuffled over on the couch to give Tank room. He slid in, but didn't try to crowd me or make me feel uncomfortable. I couldn't look at him. What do you say to someone who thought you had died? Someone you didn't know if you were mad at and wanted to punch in their handsome, unshaven face or someone you were ecstatic to see and wanted to leap into their arms and rain kisses all over that same handsome, unshaven face.

I couldn't look at him. I was afraid of what I'd see.

"Shelby."

I kept my head bowed.

"Shelby, look at me." The gentleness in his voice compelled me to turn my head and reluctantly I raised my eyes. He was smiling, genuinely smiling, even with his eyes. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement. With the tip of his finger, he tapped the bottom of my chin to close my mouth. He cupped my cheek with his hand, his wry smile tugging at my heart.

"You are so beautiful... I needed to see you, to touch you." He removed his hand from my cheek and I felt a moment of loss and wanted him to touch me again. "I don't know what, or how much you remember and I don't care. I'd rather have you alive and hating me than not have you around at all. When they buried-" His voice roughened and broke. A tear squeezed out of his blue eye.

Tank never cried.

He laughed, he joked and he got mad. He never cried. Without thinking I brushed away his tear, and cupped his cheek in my palm. Close to tears myself, I swallowed hard.

After a brief pause he cleared his throat. "When they buried you, they may as well have placed me in the casket too. All of me was with you." He took hold of my hand and pressed it to the center of his chest. "You are my heart. Without you, I don't exist."

I couldn't constrain them anymore. Tears streamed down my cheeks and he wiped them away, never removing his gaze from mine. He'd just bared his soul and I was swimming in a sea of emotions.

Gathering me close he pressed my head against his chest. His thundering heart matched mine. As we sat, his heart rate slowed and became a steady, soothing beat. I didn't want to leave this coc.o.o.n of silence, this tiny life raft in the midst of all the confusion where I felt safe, truly safe for the first time in months.

This was where I belonged. I gave my heart wings and allowed myself to love him again.

Chapter Twenty.

A lone suitcase rested at the foot of the stairs, filled with the few belongings I'd gathered in my short time at the ranch. Caleb bought it a few days ago when the decision had been made for me to go back home and pick up the pieces of my former life. Tank wandered off while I said my good-byes.

Even that surprised me. Since he arrived two days ago, he hadn't let me out of his sight. Last night I tripped over him when I got up to get a drink of water. He'd fallen asleep propped against the wall outside my bedroom, his long legs stretched across the hallway. Even though I loved Tank, I wasn't ready to sleep with him and besides, it didn't feel right to do that in Caleb's home. Also, I needed time to sort through feelings and memories that were jumbled together like a 1000-piece puzzle.

The inevitable phone call to Polly had been an adventure all by itself. She squealed, she giggled and she cried, all in the s.p.a.ce of thirty seconds. I knew she'd be camped on my front porch waiting. Best friends since grade school, we hadn't been apart for longer than a few weeks as kids, except when her Daddy would take them to Europe in the summer. We talked for hours and she filled in the gaps Tank and Caleb wouldn't, or couldn't tell me, about Regis.

Regis kept insisting, to anyone who'd listen, that the bomb was only supposed to scare Tank off, but I hadn't been born last night. The triggering device hadn't been on a timer. Someone pressed the detonation b.u.t.ton. And that someone waited until Tank was gone and I was near the flash point.

Regis had decided that if he couldn't have me, then no one would. It was sheer luck I'd paused when I spotted the wire and hadn't been any closer to the immediate blast. Whatever made him think he had any claim on me was a mystery. I'd rebuffed him from the time we were eight. Even as a child he gave me chills.

The sound of banging crockery told me Mrs. Cribbs was in the kitchen. I paused in the door and watched her washing dishes in the oversized kitchen sink.

"Mrs. Cribbs?"

She turned, her eyes red-rimmed, and looked my way. Tears for me?

"Mrs. Cribbs. Don't cry."

She grabbed the corner of her ap.r.o.n and wiped her face. "I can cry if I want to. You kinda grew on me, girl." Efficiently, she turned back to the sink and set a frying pan on the drying rack.

At first, the smell from the breakfast spread on the table made my tummy flip-flop. I'd suffered from migraines and severe nausea the first few weeks on the ranch, and for the most part they'd gone away. The added strain of getting my memory back must have caused them to return, or at least the familiar queasiness at the smell of food.

"Did Tank have breakfast?" I loaded my plate with a bit of egg and dry toast.

"Yes. He said he was going down to the barn. Caleb's prize filly, Shay, is fixin' to drop her foal soon and he can't leave her." She waved her dish rag at me. "Eat now."

Obediently I scooped the fluffy egg into my mouth and groaned. How does she do it? I could mimic every step and my food never melted in your mouth like hers. Maybe it was a good thing I was going home. A few more months of Mrs. Cribbs home cooking and I'd have to increase my ten mile run to twenty to melt off the pounds. As it was, my jeans were hard to close after a few months of her food.

I drained my coffee, wiped toast crumbs off my mouth and pushed back from the table. Mrs. Cribbs, scouring pans in the big ceramic farmers sink gave a start when I tapped her on the shoulder. Awkwardly she accepted the impulsive hug I threw around her.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cribbs." I stepped away. "I'll never forget you."

She pulled me back in and gave me a proper hug. "I'll never forget you either. You were a pain in the 'you know where'. Now get. I got things to do today." She turned back to the sink. I heard a big sniff come from her. A corresponding sniffle tugged at my heart too. She'd become my surrogate mother and hadn't even applied for the position. I vowed to stay in touch with her.

As I left Mrs. Cribbs in the kitchen and made my way down to the barn I realized I would miss the quiet, gentle rhythm of the ranch. I loved being a P.I., but there was something about working with your hands and enjoying the benefits brought about by all your hard work. It felt right somehow.

Maybe I'd start a garden in my back yard and grow a few vegetables. I'd wow Polly with my new culinary skills, taught to me by a patient Mrs. Cribbs. Polly would never believe I could make something other than pasta and salad.

The barn was still a few feet away when Caleb came through the open door, stopping when he saw me.

"Hey, Caleb. Thought I'd come see if Shay had her baby yet."

"No, but she's close."

An awkward pause hung between us. Ever since I'd gotten my memories back Caleb had pulled within himself. And I knew he regretted telling me he'd liked me for so long. The only way I knew how to deal with this situation was head on. He turned to go back into the barn so I hurried forward and grabbed his arm.

"Caleb, wait."

He stopped and looked down at me, the shade from his hat hiding his eyes. It took a few long seconds before he spoke.

"What do you want Dixie?" He cussed. "I mean Shelby."

"I guess I'll always be Dixie to you, won't I?"

A wry smile quirked the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, you'll always be my Dixie." He shifted his stance and hooked his thumbs in the loop of his jeans.

"Caleb. You are one of the nicest men I know."

"I know where this is going. But you'll always be my friend." Bitterness tinged his voice and it hurt my heart. He needed someone in his life, too.

"Yes, you will. You did nothing wrong. I did nothing wrong. There's just never been anyone but Tank for me and even without my memory he was always there. You knew that."

Caleb shrugged and looked over my shoulder into the distance. Finally he gave a droll smile and chucked me under the chin like he did when he asked me to the dance.

"Yeah, I did. But I always hoped." He pushed the brim of his hat back onto his head. The fine lines around his chocolate eyes crinkled when he finally smiled. "Tank said he'd wait for you in the car. I can't leave Shay; she's too close, so I'll say my good-byes here." He leaned in and brushed my lips with his. "See ya... Dixie." He turned and disappeared into the barn.

I stood there for a few seconds, a bit stunned by the sweet kiss, then turned back to the house, my suitcase and Tank.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Well, shoot. That didn't go as planned.

Tank rubbed the back of his neck and paced in the guest bedroom Polly had graciously offered until he and Shelby had a chance to work things out. All the scenarios he'd hashed through in his mind never had him staying at Polly's. He just a.s.sumed Shelby would come home, they'd talk about what happened and be right back where they were before the fict.i.tious break-up.

He gave a derisive snort.

That plan hit the garbage before it even saw the light of day. Any dreams he had of her leaping into his arms and begging to be reunited had been stomped into the ground when she opted to stay at their house-alone-while she adjusted and went back to work.

He tried to give her some s.p.a.ce, but it was hard. Everything in him screamed to camp outside her door and make sure she was okay. He knew Regis was in jail. He knew there was no further threat from Carlos, but until he held her in his arms and could feel her breathe, he wouldn't rest.

Shelby wasn't making it easy either. Earlier in the week, he asked how things were going. She cut him off, said she was on a case and was too busy to talk. He knew that to be a bold-faced lie. She'd had maybe two phone calls since she'd returned. Three months absent in the P.I. business is equivalent to eternity and would-be clients found others to do the job.

Yesterday he brought a coffee for her and Polly and while he cooled his heels, in the front lobby no less, Caleb called and she smiled. Actually smiled. Not for him, but Caleb. She smiled for the other guy, who'd called to check up on his girl.

He'd seen the exchange between Caleb and Shelby outside the barn and almost jumped him there. He pictured himself punching Caleb's face and felt a grim satisfaction deep in his gut. But that would last maybe four seconds because Caleb was a ninth degree black belt and Tank wouldn't get in another easy hit.

He could shoot him, but then Grizzle, who called himself Raymonde now, would take him out. Grizzle had been the best sniper he ever commanded and stayed in touch with Caleb. Tank, Grizzle, and Caleb, whom they called Cowboy and Dango, the lone Australian working for the L.A.P.D., had been a tight unit within the Special Forces. The four of them were brothers and friends. A bond forged by trust.

Still, friend or not Caleb had to be neutralized and his options were dwindling. He and Shelby were going to have a serious sit down talk and that meant getting her to stay in the same room with him. Alone.

When he realized he'd wear out the carpet, pacing back and forth strategizing, he checked his watch. Shelby would be at the shop in a few minutes and he meant to corner her there and remind her they still had a lot of love between them.

Staring into s.p.a.ce wasn't helping me get any work done. Not that there was a lot to do. Being away from the job for over three months hurt my business. I had a contact at the courthouse who'd give me bail jumpers when things were slow. If business didn't pick up, I'd give her a call, but not just yet. I couldn't concentrate on anything right now.

My brain refused to stay focused on anything other than how I felt about Tank. Did I love him or was that just a residual memory from before he left me? At the ranch, when I was in his arms I'd felt like that was where I belonged, but since then I'd had to time to calm down and put everything into perspective.

Once again the hurt he let me suffer through, because he didn't trust me to keep his secret, tore at me. Was I willing to let that go and move forward, or was it time to say good-bye for real this time?

Then I'd remember how he looked when he found me at the ranch. I'd never seen such raw emotion on his face before and it made me think maybe he did love me in a way that could last a lifetime.

I was so confused. This wasn't getting me anywhere. There was nothing keeping me at the office, except the distant hope someone would call with a job. A change of scenery was called for and I knew the perfect spot. Polly's daddy had a remote cabin he used for hunting near a lake on their property. Always well stocked I could camp out there for a week or two, sort through my thoughts and make a decision.

Polly sat at her computer, playing Solitaire.

"Don't you ever get tired playing that game?"

She looked up. "Not really. I thought reading a magazine would be too tacky. This way, if anyone did come into the office, at least it looks like I was working on the computer."

The logic made sense and I nodded. "Good to know you've got the company's best interest at heart, Pol."

She watched me pace the floor. Something I'd been doing a lot lately. Soon there'd be a permanent path worn out in front of her desk.

"Are you going to tell me what you're thinking or should we play twenty questions?"

I stopped pacing.

"Is anyone using your daddy's cabin right now?"

"You mean the one at Walker Lake?"

"Yeah, the one you and I used to sneak off to when we skipped cla.s.s."

"No one has used it for a while. Why?"

I shoved my hands in the front pocket of my jeans. "I need to figure out what's going on between Tank and me. I can't keep him at arm's length much longer. It's not fair to him or me."

Polly brought up my appointment calendar on her computer. "The only thing you have scheduled is your annual physical with Dr. Kaufman. I'll reschedule that for the next week." A few clicks. "There, you're clear."

Before I walked out the door I turned. "Polly?"

"What hon'?"

"Don't tell Tank. If he knew where I was, he'd be all over me like a scratchy wool sweater."

"I don't know..."

"Please. I need time alone."