Free Incredible Dreams by Sandra Edwards Page B

times and then turned back with a smile.
    Pulses spinning, Izzy cleared her throat and turned back to the Captain. “Why can’t I recall anything other than my name, and you?”
    “According to the doctors, you have some form of amnesia, see.” He sank down into the chair at her bedside.
    Amnesia ? Panic she was sure she’d never known before welled in her chest and squeezed out the space typically reserved for air.
    She needed to get a hold of her fright, and quickly. Imposing an iron control on herself, a unidentifiable influence came to Izzy and her feelings of dread lessened.
    The only thing remaining was her awareness of what was right there in front of her. This man. He’d always been there. He lived in all her memories, and knew more about her than she did.
    “You’re not stalking me, are you?” she asked, filing the amnesia thing to the back of her mind.
    Jack had no idea what it meant to stalk someone, but if he had to guess, he’d say it wasn’t good because her desire for his denial echoed in her voice. “I don’t think so. I don’t really know what that means.”
    “It means to follow someone, pursue them for ill-intent.” Remorse filled her tone as she spoke. He’d guess she’d started it as a joke, but now regretted her poor choice of words.
    Considering the implication, he remained calm and steadfast. The girl had lost her memory, so she had good reason to be cautious. She had no irrefutable proof that anyone deserved her trust, least of all him.
    “I mean you no harm,” he said, solely to ease her doubt.
    “Well, that’s good to know.”
    The ward’s main door opened and Jack recognized the doctor, a plump man in a white lab coat. A nurse with a blocked, heavy figure followed close behind as they headed directly to the foot of the amnesiac’s bed.
    “Good morning.” The doctor greeted her, keeping his eyes on the chart. “How are you feeling today?”
    “Lost,” she answered, with a distance in her voice and a reserve in her manner that left Jack feeling powerless.
    “Do you know your name?” the doctor asked, still wrapped up in the chart and scribbling his notes.
    “Izzy. My name is Isabelle Miller.”
    Jack wondered why anyone would call her ‘ Izzy ’. Such an odd name. He preferred Isabelle. It suited her better.
    “Any idea what year it is?”
    Her brow furrowed and her eyes darkened before settling back on the physician. “No.”
    “Not even a guess?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “How about 1946? How does that sound?”
    “Crazy.” Her expression shifted from annoyance to doubt to fear. The exchange chased an apprehensive shiver down Jack’s backside.
    The doctor stifled a chuckle. “Other than your loss of memory, you’re in good health. There’s no reason why you can’t go home.” He finally relinquished his scribbling, laid the chart against his chest and shielded it with crossed arms as if it held some secret information.
    Isabelle looked at Jack. “You wouldn’t happen to know where that is, would you?” Fear and uncertainty colored her eyes darker than usual—if you could call the few occasions he’d met her as usual.
    “Yes.” Jack slid his hands inside his trouser pockets. “I can get you home.” It wasn’t a total lie. Okay, so he didn’t know where she lived. But he could find out.
    “Very good.” The doctor took a couple of steps back and paused in the doorway. He turned to the nurse, saying, “Prepare her release, Miss Holcomb.”
    After the hospital staff disappeared into the hallway, Izzy glanced toward the line of empty beds and lingered on them for a few seconds before looking back at him. “You know where I live?” Her body went frigid. He didn’t need to touch her to know it. “You sure you’re not stalking me?”
    “I don’t know where you live, Isabelle,” he said, shaking his head. “I lied.”
    “What? Why would you do that?”
    “Well, Isabelle,” he said, dropping into the chair. “Around here, given that you