Free Skin Deep by Marissa Doyle Page A

loss—no weakness or paralysis, or lack of alertness, or aversion to light. You’ll have to keep an eye on him, though—some injuries can take days to manifest themselves. And be very careful helping him when he’s up and walking. Further head injury could be fatal.”
    “But you don’t think it’s a physical injury, do you?”
    “No, not really. An accident—or whatever he’s been through—can certainly trigger amnesia. It can be the mind’s self-defense against something that’s too much to handle at the time. As he recuperates, his memory will probably return. And the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.” He frowned. “Look, this is too much to expect you to handle. Why don’t I call the hospital—”
    “No.” Even in her own ears, her tone sounded final.
    Rob looked at her. “All right,” he said after a moment “But I’m going to call Captain Howe and try to light a fire under him. And I’m going to ask you about calling the hospital at least twice tomorrow and again the day after that. I think you’ve bitten off more than anyone should chew, but that’s your right. However, it’s my right to keep on asking you.”
    Garland exhaled. “That’s fair.”
    “Good. Forgive me?”
    “Forgive you for what?”
    “Even better.” His smile turned sunny. “So will you say yes if I ask you to come out for dinner with me later in the week? Like Friday?”
    Garland hesitated. Conn and Alasdair might need her—
    But surely the police would have found out who they were and sent them home by then. “Yes,” she replied.
    He looked at her for a swift second, then put one hand on her shoulder, drew her slightly toward him, and kissed her—nothing that he couldn’t have done in public, but definitely more than a peck. She liked the feeling of his lips on hers, firm and steady, just like him.
    “That’s good.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I wish I didn’t have to leave, but the scouts really want this badge.”
    “Go. Have fun.” She stepped back from the car. Her lips still felt the warmth of his.
    “I’ll stop in this evening for a second and check on them, if I can.” Rob climbed in the car, smiled at her again, and backed out of the driveway.
     
    * * *
     
    Conn liked toast as much as Alasdair had. If they stayed in the house much longer she’d have to start buying loaves of bread in triplicate. He drank three glasses of milk and licked the dribbles of butter and strawberry jelly off his plate after he’d eaten his fourth piece, then sighed and crawled onto her lap.
    Garland smiled and smoothed her purple flannel shirt over his shoulder. She’d have to find him something to wear other than it—a quick trip downtown might be a good idea in the next day or two. Unless Captain Howe had found out who they were and where they belonged. Even so, it would be nice to send him home clothed.
    “I have some work to do,” she said, looking down at him. “Do you want to watch me?”
    He blinked at her.
    “I’ll take that as a yes.” She stood up, then set him back down on the chair and wrapped a blanket around him. He clung to her neck but she gently detached his arms. “Wait a moment, little limpet,” she told him. “We’re going to do something fun.”
    “‘Little limpet’,” Alasdair repeated, and looked at her strangely.
    On the other side of the room was the worktable she’d planned to use for cutting her fabric. Right now it was piled with plastic storage bins of fabric and quilting supplies and a rainbow pile of fabric draped haphazardly over it all, thanks to a clumsy moving man who’d dropped one of the boxes on the stairs. She could fold it and maybe begin to think about work, yet still keep close to Conn.
    She dragged the toile armchair with him in it over to the table. He clutched the arms and smiled—in fact, she was sure she heard a very small giggle escape him. Maybe he wasn’t as damaged as she’d feared.
    “This is what I do,” she told him, picking up