The Second Chance Read online

  His touch felt...familiar somehow. Strong, yet careful all at once.

  She couldn’t deny the wisdom in his words. “I just want to know one more thing for now.”

  He grinned—the first time she’d seen him smile, or remembered seeing him smile—and it shone from his eyes, setting her senses buzzing.

  He was sheer magnetism personified.

  “Like I have the option of arguing with you?”

  She couldn’t help but smile back. “Apparently you do know me well. Better than I know myself at the moment, which brings me to my question. What’s my last name? Or rather, what’s your last name? Did I keep my maiden name?”

  His smile faded and he clasped her hand, the left one without a wedding ring. “You took my surname. It’s Mikkelson.”

  Surprise spread through her. “As in the oil family Mikkelsons?”

  “Yes, the same.” He nodded.

  There was a wariness to him she couldn’t quite understand. Maybe people befriended him for his money. That would have never crossed her mind. Still, a lot of things made more sense now.

  “No wonder I have this private room. Your parents own Mikkelson Oil.” She pressed her fingers to the headache starting again.

  “It’s not Mikkelson Oil anymore. My father passed away nearly three years ago. My mother recently married the head of Steele Oil—widower Jack Steele—merging the two companies into Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.”

  For what should be big news, he didn’t look all that happy about it.

  “I’m sorry about your father.” She squeezed his hand and a shiver of electricity passed between them, like static popping through her.

  His thumb stroked along the inside of her wrist over her speeding pulse. “Thank you. He was fond of you.”

  “I wish I remembered that.”

  “Me too.”

  Awareness increased until the static between them was like a meteor shower. Beautiful...but something she feared could leave her scorched.

  The door opened again with a call at the same time. “Dr. Gibson here.”

  Chuck cleared his throat and stepped back. “He’s your ob-gyn.”

  Dr. Gibson entered, wheeling a machine of some sort, with a nurse trailing behind. “I hear the two of you were going to have a discussion.”

  Chuck nodded. “I’ve told Shana I’m her husband, and she knows about the baby.”

  “How are you feeling?” Dr. Gibson stopped beside her bed.

  “Overwhelmed. A little woozy. But mostly just confused.”

  “That’s understandable,” he said with a kind bedside manner that must have been reassuring during all the fertility treatments Chuck had mentioned. “The nurse is going to check your blood pressure, and then we’re going to do an ultrasound. We’ll go as slowly as you need us to.”

  Shana’s heart skipped a beat. So much was happening so quickly she wanted to tell them all to slow down, to stop altogether. But life didn’t work that way. She had to face the present. “No need to wait. I want to know as much as I can.”

  “Ask anything you like, and I’ll do my best to answer,” Dr. Gibson said. “Are you all right with Mr. Mikkelson staying in the room? I understand these are rather unusual circumstances.”

  Shana looked at Chuck. He was her husband. Everyone here knew that. And this was his child. As strange as it felt to have him in the room, he had a right to be here. The past day must have been hellish for him with her health scare. “Of course he can stay.”

  “Thank you.” Chuck took her hand in his, his touch strong and confident.

  Those green eyes of his held her, reminding her again of a changeable rolling sea. She could so easily dive in, immerse herself in him.

  Lose herself.

  And that made him dangerous.

  Her first priority right now was deciphering who she was.

  She couldn’t afford to let down her guard around the one man she should be able to trust with her life.

  * * *

  The next day, as Chuck checked Shana out of the hospital, he was still reeling from seeing that ultrasound.

  Snow gathered on the ground. The blacktop parking lot looked more like a field than a place for cars. But he, too, felt like he’d fallen away from the present moment.

  He recalled instead a different moment. The first time Shana had announced a pregnancy. The promise and hope of that moment. So different than this one.

  He had fantasized about a future with Shana and a kid on the way, but in no realm had his fantasies played out this way. They’d watched ultrasounds together in the past, but they had given up on ever seeing one again.

  And now, Chuck was preparing to take his pregnant wife home.

  A wife who didn’t remember him.

  He stepped out of the hospital and into the crisp morning air, an orderly wheeling Shana beside Chuck. His personal staffer had brought around his Escalade, the exhaust puffing clouds into the cold. The snow was pristine after yesterday’s storm, piles on the side of the roads from snowplows clearing the way.

  As the driver opened the passenger door and left the engine running for Chuck to drive, Chuck held out his hand for his wife. His pregnant wife.

  The ultrasound had made this so real.

  There was a baby in the mix of this insane time in his life—the merger, the long hours, the amnesia, and a second chance with Shana he didn’t want to waste.

  Growing up, he’d dreamed of having a perfect marriage like his parents. That wasn’t going to happen. He and Shana had too much water under the bridge, and for too long.

  But Chuck had never failed at anything in his life. He didn’t want his marriage to be the first. Which meant he needed to use this time together to win over his wife.

  * * *

  Shana spent much of the drive back home in a state of shock, mixed with wary hope that surely her memory would be jogged by something. Soon.

  So far, no luck.

  The streets leading away from the hospital had markers of familiarity, but her mind whirred. Her memory of the main highway was five years out of date.

  Five years.

  Such a significant amount of time. She tried to conjure up a holiday, an image of her wedding day. Tried to imagine where she might have tied the knot. Wondered who her best friend was.

  But no memories pounded against her mind’s eye. Just an ultrasound image and a cyclone of questions.

  Questions that hammered harder at her chest as they pulled up to their house. Her home. The home she shared with Chuck, heir to an oil empire and sexy as hell in a Stetson. Chuck had told her that her mother would be going straight from the airport to their house. There had been some delays with her flight.

  And as they turned the corner, Shana took in the mammoth structure, eyes moving past the snow-covered arbor to the chimney puffing gray smoke rings against the iced sky. So many rooms, so many memories that refused to materialize. Had they picked this place out together? Had she determined which trees should be placed where?

  The automatic security gate slid back to reveal a clear view of the massive two-story house with a French country charm. More of that wary hope filled her as she studied the home and grounds. Would she recognize any of it? Whitewashed brick and porches. So many porches on every floor, enclosed and open, as if there was enough space to accommodate any season.

  Beautiful, but unfamiliar.

  She’d grown up with security, in a cute ranch-style home made of brick. Her mother had worked at the local air force base as a nurse. Her father had always claimed he was short of money. She’d heard her parents fight about it. Sometimes the words were distinguishable, most of the time not. But in the words that had trickled through, her mom had accused him of having a drinking problem. Another time she’d questioned him about a gambling addiction, even other women. The possibility of him supporting a
whole second family had never come up, so far as Shana had known.

  Who would suspect that?

  God, trust was tough, but right now she wasn’t in a position to walk away. She didn’t even know who she was.

  And if this pregnancy lasted, she wanted to give her child a chance at a loving home and family.

  She shook off the past. She hated dwelling on such negative notions and letting her father have real estate in her brain. He didn’t deserve so much as a passing thought. Instead, she focused on the house where, according to Chuck, she’d lived for nearly four years.

  The property seemed to be about five acres. In addition to the mansion, the grounds had a small barn and a five-car garage. High-end cars lined the driveway, snow billowing down on them. The counselor had encouraged her to have a controlled meeting of the family as early as Shana could agree to it. Shana had replied that the tension of wondering was worse.

  So Chuck’s family was here, waiting for her arrival.

  If only the curtain would rise, revealing her past. This was a magnificent place set against the mountain range. Would she feel more at peace when she saw the decor? Would she recognize her influence in the home?

  Modern French provincial was her style. A promising omen.

  “Did we decorate together, or did you leave it all to me?”

  “We chose artwork together, but the rest is all you.” His face was angular in the glow from the dash. With the sun setting early, the headlights cast stripes ahead as he neared their home, passing a frozen pond.

  “Were you okay with that?”

  “Completely. We blended both of our tastes where it mattered to me. For example, I had some antlers from a hunting trip with my father that I wanted to keep, and you honored that wish in a thoughtful way.”

  “How so?”

  He parked under a portico, the vehicle still running, heat pumping. “You incorporated them into a massive chandelier with candles over our dining room table. It’s a great tribute to my dad.”

  The nostalgia in his voice drew her closer.

  “I wish I could remember having met him.” Or remember any of the past five years with Chuck. She swallowed, frustrated at the void. The not knowing.

  Chuck stroked her hair back from her face. “Losing him was hard on all of us. For you, too.”

  Her hand gravitated to his jaw and she let herself test the bristly feel of him under the guise of offering comfort. “You’re named for him.”

  “You remember?” He looked up sharply, those attentive eyes causing her cheeks to heat.

  “Not the way you mean. It’s more of a guess that feels right.” She couldn’t miss the wariness in his eyes, something that hinted he would rather she didn’t remember. A shiver rippled through her and she pulled her hand away. “Although I don’t have a clue who each of those cars belongs to.”

  He pointed to the first car. “That’s my mother’s. She wanted to see you in the hospital, but I didn’t want you overwhelmed with new faces.”

  Was that true? Or did his family not like her and that’s why only his younger sister had been around?

  Either way, he’d been right to keep them away from the hospital, because with Shana’s memory of the past five years still a no-show, she was starting to panic over going into her house emotionally blind to re-meet so many people who already knew her.

  Maybe having them come over hadn’t been such a great idea after all.

  But now it was too late to go back.

  As the thick door swung open and she stepped through, a sheer mass of humanity greeted her. When Chuck said he had a big family, she hadn’t fully comprehended what that meant.

  Her eyes flicked as she tried to take in all these new—and yet not new—people and this house at the same time. A tall blonde woman with a baby on her hip leaned against the iron railing of the staircase, her smile warm and welcoming. A cluster of people stood on the white-and-brown-dappled fur rug, crowding around the plush chairs.

  Chuck pronounced their names as they moved, but Shana’s head throbbed at all the information. She tried to imagine picking out the furniture with the man who held her steady as she pushed through a barrage of people.

  People who seemed genuinely concerned for her. People who felt like strangers.

  They moved further into the house, her hand reaching out to touch the wall as they turned from the entry hall into the dining room. Her eyes scanned the long wooden table flanked by eight large chairs. It held a table setting for two.

  A snapshot of daily life.

  Bouquets of fresh flowers and tall candles ran down the table’s spine. A familiar touch—a tradition from her mother. She’d brought that here, to her life as a married woman.

  A small comfort. But a comfort she embraced, the kind of nod from the universe that something made sense. It gave her the strength to meet even more people.

  It helped to divide them into two family trees rather than take them in as one mass of blended family. Chuck’s mother, Jeannie, was head of the Mikkelson clan with two sons and two daughters. Jack Steele—Jeannie’s new husband—had five adult children, three sons and two daughters. His oldest son was married to Chuck’s oldest sister, and the couple had a baby girl. The oldest Steele daughter was married to a scientist and they had twin baby girls.

  Shana’s heart tugged at the sight of those little ones, reminding her of the child she’d only just learned she carried but that she already loved. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recalled hearing that Jack had lost his wife and another daughter in a plane crash over fifteen years ago. It had probably been big news across the state at the time, given the prominence of this family.

  “It’s kind of you all to come greet me.” She sank into one of the chairs in the living room, Chuck staying close behind her. His presence, the touch of his hand to her shoulder, stirred something in her. A feeling. A pull. A recognition.

  But the touch couldn’t assuage her frustration or the dizzying impact of re-meeting five years’ worth of connections. She glanced up at Chuck, his sandy-brown hair tousled upward. It caught the light reflecting off the mirror that hung above the mantel.

  A mirror world indeed.

  She struggled to force that memory of ordering the piece to her mind’s eye. Even as she studied the antlers in front of her, she failed to locate the story from her perspective. All that Shana had was the retelling of a memory that Chuck had shared with her.

  As if he knew her distress, Chuck gave her shoulder a quick squeeze.

  The smile lines on Jeannie’s face deepened. A warm smile. One Shana wanted to take comfort in. The older woman gave a knowing nod. “I can tell by Chuck’s face that he thinks we’re overwhelming you. But when we heard your mother’s flight was delayed for snow, we wanted to bring you something to welcome you home. We’re here just to lay eyes on you, bring you food, then be on our way.”

  “You’re hoping that if I see you, it’ll jog my memory. I’m sorry, but it doesn’t. I may never remember. Thank you for trying, though. For caring.” She swallowed, hard. Leaned back into the wooden chair. Looked at the faces of the Mikkelsons and the Steeles. Noted how comfortable they seemed around the long dining room table. Knew their appearance here to be motivated by love.

  Somehow that recognition pained her.

  “I’m just glad you’re alive and well,” Jeannie said. “And know we’re all only a phone call away if you have any questions.”

  “I appreciate it. Please stay for dinner.” Shana bit her lip. Wishing she had something more to say. Wishing this whole meeting could somehow miraculously deliver up the memories she sought, for herself and for her child. And for this sexy man at her side? For the love she must have lost?

  Why was it so difficult to wrap her brain around?

  Disappointment swamped her.

  In spite of Chuck’s family’s warm welcom
e, Shana still couldn’t shake an unsettled feeling.

  She couldn’t stop searching for a reason why she was so certain there was trouble in paradise.

  Three

  Chuck leaned on the door frame, hand up in a static wave as darkness flooded the horizon. The light from his sister’s car blinded him ever so briefly as she threw her SUV into Reverse. He was still unsure how the events of the last several hours had gone.

  Running a hand through his thick hair, he stretched, his neck popping. Releasing some of the tension he’d carried.

  The night had been an exercise in dodging one land mine after another, worrying about what his family might reveal. He appreciated their concern, and Shana had been emphatic about seeing them, hoping somehow that their appearance would break the dam to release her memories.

  All the more reason for him to hustle them out the door. If only he’d managed to dissuade Shana from inviting them in the first place. But to push her to wait would have made her suspicious. He needed her calm. He needed to gain time with Shana, time enough to forge a connection strong enough that she wouldn’t leave.

  All the more reason he was glad to see his family off. Finally, the last of them had left. Exhaling hard, Chuck closed the door and armed the security system.

  Shana should be resting. She was fresh out of the hospital, pregnant and disoriented. Although she’d seemed to welcome the distraction of other people in the house, most likely to keep from being alone with him.

  At least his family had been sensitive enough not to mention their marital problems. However, his mother had pulled out photo albums in an attempt to help jog Shana’s memories—including his and Shana’s wedding pictures, none of which had sparked the least bit of remembrance. A relief. And strangely irksome as well.

  Chuck scrubbed a hand over his jaw, striding past the dining room, cleared by extra staff he’d hired to help during Shana’s recovery. Even though he now employed a chef, his family had left behind enough food for an army even though they’d all eaten their fill until the candles had burned down in the silver candelabras. Even as he’d wished them gone, he’d been grateful for the positive spin they’d put on his marriage. Their presence had given off a happy family vibe he needed to stress with his wife.