He searched his fuzzy head.
“Were you out on a boat?” the blonde asked.
He scowled.
“Were you out on a boat?” she repeated.
He opened his mouth to reply . . .
However, when he reached for the answer, he couldn’t grab it.
Were you out on a boat?
He couldfeelthe answer right there, close. Except he couldn't pin it down. He couldn't come up with anything, in fact, but blankness. “I don’t know.”
“What’s your name?” she asked. “We should alert your family at once.”
Again, he automatically went to pull up the information—
And found that it was gone, too. Missing. He didn’t even know his own name.
ChapterTwo
As soon as Michael arrived, Remy and Leigh gave the EMT privacy to examine the stranger.
While they waited, Remy drank tea obsessively and Leigh paced. The time that had passed since she’d spotted the man in the ocean had been so nerve-wracking that it had exacted ten times the toll as regular minutes. She stared at nothing, tasting Lipton, trying to metabolize the stress.
Today she’drescued a manwho was currently present in her bed butabsent of his memories. Leigh had checked his clothes and found nothing. No identification.
At last Michael emerged. At twenty-eight, he was two years younger than Remy. Black curls topped his earnest, pink face.
They congregated near the front door, the spot farthest from the bedroom, and pitched their voices low so the mystery man wouldn’t overhear.
Michael listed his accomplishments like a Boy Scout naming the badges he’d earned. He’d checked the patient’s temperature, which was almost back to normal. He’d monitored his blood pressure and pulse, which were stable. He’d cleaned and treated the head wound. He’d listened to the man’s lungs, observed him breathing, pressed on his chest. “I don’t think anything’s fractured except for the ribs. But yeah. Broken ribs are very uncomfortable so he’s in quite a bit of pain.”
“Is there anything you can do for that?” Leigh asked.
“Over-the-counter painkillers.” Michael shrugged. “You have some Advil around here?”
“Remy has about a quarter of a bottle left. We gave him two earlier. Can we give him more?
“I’m not a doctor so I can’t prescribe more than the standard dose.”
“Would it help to wrap a bandage around his ribs?” Leigh asked.
“We don’t do that anymore.” Michael tugged on a curl, which pinged back into place when he let go. “We want him to be able to breathe deeply. To heal the ribs, he’ll need to stay immobile as much as he can.”
“Ayuh,” Leigh said. “And the head wound?”
“He might have a concussion, but hey. For that, he just needs rest. He asked me to call an ambulance and get him to the hospital. I explained that we don’t have an ambulance or hospital and told him I think he’ll be fine without them.”
“What about the fact that he can’t remember anything?” Remy asked.
“Uh . . . I’m not too worried about that. Confusion’s normal with hypothermia. It should clear up once he’s recovered.”
“Andwherewill he be recovering?” Remy asked.
“Well.” Michael looked back and forth between them, finally settling on Remy. “Here, I guess. For the moment.”
