Dee twisted the knob, backing the door open. “Come on in.”
Following her, Jacob ducked inside. Her room wasn’t small, but Jacob filled it all the same.
She draped her coat on the edge of the first bed, turned up the heat, considered what to say and why it was so important that he believe her this time. Jacob lounged against the wall until she sat at the small table, then lowered himself into the chair across from her, silently.
Words churned inside her, but she stifled them. Better to let him set the tone.
Jacob stretched his legs in front of him. “What did the Tacoma police have to say when you called them?”
“How did you know I—Oh, the three dollars.” She’d forgotten about that part of her tirade. Apparently her mouth ran away from her in the midst of a good rant, another element of her personality to file away with the good and bad she’d deciphered so far.
“Well?”
“They said I need to come in. I described myself, and they did concede there weren’t any obvious missing persons’ reports to match me. They’ll run my prints and do a more thorough search when I get there.”
“You’re willing to let them fingerprint you and run your picture.”
“Absolutely.” Dee leaned forward, sensing she might finally be making headway. “Jacob, I don’t have a tidy explanation for you. I woke up in this room, alone and scared out of my mind. I had to look at the telephone book to find out where I was. There wasn’t even a purse or wallet with identification. Just a little money and this.” She scooped her hand into the neck of her sweater, pulling free the necklace. “The closest I could even come to a name is a tarnished D. For the last time, I swear to you I don’t know who I am.”
A piercing stare later, he asked, “Why didn’t you say something this morning? Why scrub bathroom floors all day?”
“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You’re pretty darned intimidating, and I’m pretty darned vulnerable.”
The first hint of a smile eased through his perpetual scowl. “Okay, I can buy that. But what changed your mind? I didn’t magically shrink.”
She resisted the urge to rub her stomach. The police would have to know about the possibility of a child since it might help, but she wasn’t ready to share something so private. She settled for part of the truth. “Watching you with Emily and Madison made you seem more approachable.”
He crossed his feet at the ankles and studied his boots until Dee thought she might spring across the table and shake him.
Jacob glanced to Dee, the furrows smoothing from his brow. “So you have amnesia.”
A sigh racked through her. He believed her. He didn’t look happy about it, but she could live with that. No matter what she’d done before, he didn’t think she was a liar. “Yes. I do,” she whispered, her mind screaming, And I’m so scared. Help me, please.
Jacob watched the fear flood her face. Any second, he expected her eyes to fill with tears.
They never did. Every line of her body cried out her grief all the same.
He set his caged instincts free. His gut told him to trust her and not let old defensiveness rule him. Simply accept her story. If his instincts were wrong, he would only be out a ride into town.
If his instincts were right, this woman needed him, badly. A woman who balked at asking for a pair a shoes, needed him.
Something primal stirred within him, latched on and wouldn’t let go. Caveman in action? Maybe. Who was he to fight nature? Especially when it came in such an appealing package. “Let’s go back to our original plan then. I’ll run you into town tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She twisted the necklace around her fingers until they turned bloodless. “What about the motel? Who’ll take care of the desk?”
“My regular cleaning lady should be back tomorrow. She can handle checkouts and then carry the cordless for incoming calls while she cleans. We’ll leave early so we have plenty of daylight if the weather turns rogue again. You need to be looked over by a doctor before we head to the station—”
“Hold on! I just want a ride, not a cavalry charge.”
“What do you know about your medical history?”
She winced.
“What if you’re a diabetic?” he pressed. “Or have some other condition? Head injuries can cause all sorts of problems. You need to have a doctor check you over. I have an old squadron pal stationed here. He’s married to a flight surgeon.”
She sagged in her seat. “Good point. But do you have to be so pushy?”
A grin tugged through, easing the knot in his stomach. “Military bluntness.”