One Southern Cowboy - Jennifer Youngblood Page 0,13

of her brain closed. Relief spilled over her. She welcomed the pleasant numbness overtaking her body. Doctor Jepson said that something traumatic had happened—something her brain couldn’t process. Shivers wracked her body. Whatever it was must’ve been a doozy. She couldn’t think about it right now. She glanced around the room, focusing on the dresser, the chest of drawers, the fan swirling above her. Anything to take her away from the fear.

Finally, when she could breathe again, she lay back down. For a fraction of a second, the stairs from her dream flashed through her brain. Instantly, she pushed her thoughts in a different direction. An image of Jaxson flashed before her mind, causing a smile to drift over her lips. Jaxson was strikingly handsome with those dark, lively eyes and spiky dark hair. She liked his rugged features, the dimple in his chin, his lean muscular body. He had a bold confidence about him that was very enticing. She wondered what their connection was. Were they close friends or something more?

Definitely something more, her mind inserted. She had the satisfied feeling of a key fitting nicely into a lock.

Even though she couldn’t remember where she’d come from or why she was wandering the road in a torrential downpour, she knew that Jaxson was just the sort of man that she would be attracted to. And, in a way she didn’t understand, she knew that being here with Jaxson on his ranch was a good thing. A safe haven.

A place where the darkness couldn’t reach her.

“That’s great news! I’ll let her know.” Jaxson ended the call and placed his phone on the table just as Lemon stepped into the kitchen. His heart missed a beat. Even dressed in Zoe’s jeans, which were a few inches too long, her face scrubbed free of makeup, hair unfixed, Lemon was a vision. Her skin had a natural glow, which highlighted her prominent cheekbones. She walked with a fluid grace, giving her an almost ethereal quality.

Lemon was hugging her arms. There was a cagey look in her eyes that spoke of how unsure she was of the current situation. Jaxson felt a smidgen of guilt for hoping that it would take Lemon a while to regain her memories. He couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling right now—to not have any inkling of her identity or past. Would Lemon be glad to learn that she was mega successful? He couldn’t escape the feeling that she was running from something or someone.

Before going to sleep the night before, Jaxson had Googled Lemon. He already knew most of the facts he’d read. After graduating from high school, Lemon attended Parsons School of Design in NY. She then apprenticed under the celebrated shoe designer Elza Noelle before launching her own company five years later. She co-founded the business with a friend from Parsons School of Design, Shade Russell. The business was cleverly named Shade of Lemon. It was located in Los Angeles.

From what Jaxson could tell, Lemon was a socialite, frequenting parties with celebrities. A couple of years ago, Lemon had announced her engagement to Braden Cooper, an a-list actor. Jaxson had read something about that when it happened. It stung to know that Lemon was marrying another man. He’d brushed off the hurt by going on back-to-back dates for a solid week. Then, tragedy struck when Braden was killed in a scuba diving accident in St. Maarten.

Jaxson had briefly thought about reaching out to Lemon to offer his condolences, but ultimately decided to let sleeping dogs lie. He’d seen a couple of recent photos of her with Wesley Livingston, the son of real estate tycoon Ellis Livingston. The Livingstons were from Nashville. Jaxson wondered if Wesley Livingston had anything to do with Lemon being here in Franklin.

Jaxson was unprepared for the hot sparks of jealousy that flared through him when he saw the pictures of Lemon and Wesley together. One in particular really got to Jaxson. The two were strolling on a beach. Lemon was looking up at Wesley, smiling at something he’d said. Jaxson had met Wesley Livingston a handful of times. The guy was a pompous jerk who lived high on the hog, using his daddy’s money and influence. Surely Lemon had more sense than to get involved with Wesley.

Jaxson had his ankle propped on a kitchen chair. It had given him fits the night before, throbbing incessantly. He didn’t know which was worse—his busted ankle or sore ribs. Every time he turned in