After helping her out of the truck, Jackson pulled the hood of Hannah's windbreaker over her head, his fingers lingering on her face. "It's still misting a little. Are you sure you're up for a walk on the beach?"

Trying to ignore her tingling skin, she burrowed her hands in her pockets. "Walking on the beach is a good idea any time. Too bad we didn't bring a kite. It's windy enough to fly one."

He sent her a sideways glance. "You can't fly a kite in the rain. Are you trying to find out if I still have the one from my b.l.o.o.d.y nose adventure?"

Hannah laughed. "You'll have to figure that out for yourself."

He guided her to the path leading to the sh.o.r.e. "I have yet to figure out any woman. Even our four-year-old is a mystery to me. Which way?"

She pointed to the right. "So, did you? Keep the kite, I mean?"

"I wasn't going to get rid of something you touched."

She slid her arm through his. "You're a hopeless romantic."

"It gets worse. I also have the home run ball."

"No wonder I couldn't find it."

Jackson abruptly stopped walking. "What do you mean you couldn't find it?"

"I went back a few days later looking for it."

He smiled widely. "Did you just hear yourself? You remembered something from your childhood."

"Random things like that will pop into my head, but I can't always tie them to anything. You mentioned me hitting the home run the other night, but it wasn't until today when you said it again that I remembered."

"This is very encouraging."

Hannah sat down and patted the area next to her. When he raised his eyebrows, she said, "Are you afraid of a little wet sand?"

"Not at all." He took his place beside her.

"Are there any other souvenirs from our past lurking around in your closet?"

"Nope. You know all my secrets."

She looked at the water. "I wish I knew my own. Do you think Mitch.e.l.l will come again?"

"I'd be surprised if he doesn't."

"Then I wish he'd do it so we can get it over with and move on."

"It won't do much good if he comes before you've figured out everything."

Hannah sifted sand from one hand to the other. "I don't need to remember to know I don't want to be with him."

"Yes, you do, Hannah."

"Are you saying our relationship is dependent on me remembering Mitch.e.l.l?"

"I'm saying that we can't make decisions if we don't have all the facts."

"You're not going to let yourself get close to me, are you? You think I'll leave again."

"Neither of us knows what brought you here or what your plans were."

"I'm not going back to him, Jackson."

He stretched out and put his hands behind his head. "What are you basing that on? It's not as if you know me any better than you know him."

Hannah leaned over him. "How can you say that? Of course I know you better than him. I may have lost my memory, but I haven't lost the ability to observe and draw conclusions. My present knowledge of you is limited, but it's enough for me to know that you're someone I could be happy with."

The wind blew her hair across his face. He inhaled its scent and twirled one of the long strands around his finger. "I'm not doubting you, Hannah, but given our unusual circ.u.mstances, it's only prudent to move slowly."

"Then that's what we'll do."

Jackson closed his eyes. "Would you like to go out to dinner tonight?"

"That would be fun."

He felt her fingers moving through his damp hair. Her touch was light, but it sent tiny shivers down his spine. "That feels nice," he murmured. Leaving his hair, she caressed the side of his face. Jackson's pulse started to race as his entire body seemed to come alive. When she reached his lips, he opened his eyes and caught her hand.

"I thought you were asleep," she admitted.

"I'd have to be very tired to sleep in these conditions."

"Do you want me to stop?"

His eyes reflected both pa.s.sion and torment. "No, but you probably should."

Hannah leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Another time then."

Jackson didn't trust himself to speak. His self-control was hanging on by the thinnest of threads. The desires that had long been dormant inside him had come to life with an ease that left him shaken. He was allowing himself to get caught up in a situation that was founded on nothing of substance. This time with Hannah was similar to an illusion that could shatter at the first touch of reality. Forcing a smile to his lips, he stood up and pulled her to her feet. "We should be getting back."

Hannah sighed inwardly as they retraced their steps to the truck. Jackson hadn't said a word in the last ten minutes. The scars she had to worry about weren't the visible ones. His love for her wasn't in doubt, but it was obvious from his reaction that he didn't trust her. He had drawn a line in the sand that he wasn't going to cross.

In no way did she blame him for doubting her motives. She hadn't valued his love when he offered it and hadn't deemed it important enough to alter her own plans. Such duplicity couldn't be easily forgiven and made any kind of resolution difficult. Jackson didn't settle for less, no matter what the cost to himself. He didn't lower his standards to get what he wanted. Until the past was resolved and perhaps not even then things would remain as they were between them.

Her glance left the blue water and met the blueness of his eyes. The insecurity she saw there was her doing, and it would have to be her actions that took it away. She couldn't force her memories to return, but hopefully she could find a way to show him that his heart was finally safe with her.

Jackson took her to a family-owned Italian restaurant located on the water. Sitting across from him at their candlelit table, she felt a stirring of recognition.

"Have we been here before?"

He looked up from the menu. "Yes, many times."

"Wasn't the piano over by that window?"

Jackson looked behind him. "You know, I think it was. This is starting to get exciting. It's like we're on a treasure hunt inside your head."

She laughed. "I'm glad you're getting so much enjoyment out of my confusion."

"I'm trying to put a positive spin on a challenging situation."

"Isn't that what you do with everything? Try to find the good?"

He laid down the menu and leaned forward on his elbows. "It doesn't make much sense to focus on the bad. G.o.d tells us that everything works together for good."

"For those that love Him and are called for His purpose. I remember that verse. I can remember more about G.o.d than anyone else. That's ironic when you consider how little I heeded His words."

"You're no different than anyone else, Hannah. All of us fall short of G.o.d's standards. That's why we need Jesus."

Her smile was wistful. "I know G.o.d has forgiven me. I'm not sure you ever will."

He reached across the table and touched her hand. "You don't need to worry about that. I forgave you a long time ago."

She turned her hand over and linked her fingers through his. "Does your love for me have no end?"

"If so, I haven't found it yet."

The waiter arrived with their food before she could think of anything to say in reply. Once they were alone again, the moment was lost.

As she pa.s.sed him the basket of warm bread, she said, "Tell me about Sophia."

A smile lit his face. "She's sweet, affectionate and tender-hearted. Her innocent view of life helps keep me grounded. I can honestly say that I've learned as much from her as she has from me."

"It couldn't have been easy being a single parent."

"The hardest times were when she was sick. Fortunately, I had Colton and Laurel."

"Do they have any children?"

"A daughter - Amanda is eight years old. She's like an older sister to Sophia."

"Is she the dark-haired girl riding the pony with Sophia in that picture on the refrigerator?"

He nodded. "That was taken at Amanda's birthday party last month." Jackson started to chuckle. "The next day I caught Sophia trying to ride Freya."

"Oh, no! What happened?"

"She learned the difference between dogs and horses."

"You love her very much, don't you?"

"Being her father is the most wonderful thing that's ever happened to me. I would never have had that without you."

"You don't know that for sure, Jackson. You might have married someone else if I hadn't crashed into your life."

"I didn't want anyone else."

For the rest of the meal, he refused to discuss anything serious. He was in the middle of a story about his one and only street race when Hannah interrupted him.

"You drove a Mustang. It had those sporty rims and racing stripes. You were always working on it."

Another memory back. He should keep her talking. "I couldn't play sports, so I worked on cars. I probably shouldn't admit this, but I used to dream about kissing you in that car."

Hannah's glance fell to her plate. "I'd like you to kiss me sometime. If you want to, I mean. Not right now, of course, but some other time. When we're at home." She grabbed her gla.s.s and took a drink. "I'm sorry; I shouldn't have said that."

His eyes danced with amus.e.m.e.nt. "You're adorable when you blush."

"You're the only person who can make me do it. Not even Mitch.e.l.l could." For a second, she looked shocked at what she'd said. Then her eyes took on a faraway look. "He teased me about it. I threw something at him - a pillow, I think. It was after he'd taken me to dinner." Her eyes closed as if in pain.

"What is it?"

"We had a terrible fight," she whispered. "I don't remember what it was about, but he slammed out the door."

"I know it hurts to remember unpleasant things, but this is good, Hannah. Should we celebrate your progress with dessert?"

"I wish I could, but I'm stuffed."

He pointed to her half-empty plate. "It's nice to see you eating again."

"I've gained three pounds since I came home."

"You need about twenty more."

"You prefer women with some meat on their bones, huh?"

Jackson grinned as he signaled for the bill. "I've said too much already."

Hannah woke to the sound of water running. Jackson must be taking a shower in the hall bathroom. Her mind replayed the events of the previous night. After their return home from the restaurant, Jackson had challenged her to a game of Monopoly. He hadn't seemed too concerned about winning. Half the time she had to remind him it was his turn. When she did, this look would come over his face, like a little boy caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

After they read the Bible, he walked her to her room in the same way a man would walk a date to her front door. What she saw in his eyes had sent her hopes soaring. She waited, certain he would kiss her. Instead, he brought her fingers to his lips and wished her a quiet 'goodnight'. As she watched him walk away, tears p.r.i.c.ked her eyes.

The conflict within him had been palpable, but in the end, he hadn't been able to bring himself to kiss her. It seemed there were some obstacles that couldn't be overcome.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Hannah," Jackson called in a low voice. "Are you awake?"