Memory's Edge: Part 1

By DelSheree Gladden

Gretchen brought her car to a screeching halt in the middle of the highway, terrified she had just killed someone. The body lying on the road appeared so suddenly, she barely had time to hit the brakes. Luckily, she stopped short of him. Unluckily, someone else hadn’t. Her call for help may have saved his life, but the damage done may be impossible to repair.

Waking with no memory of who he is or how he ended up a broken mess in the hospital, he has no choice but to rely on his rescuer for help. “John Doe” is his only identity until fragmented memories begin cropping back up. They are only fleeting images of a woman, but John hides even that from Gretchen, afraid it will lead him back home and away from the woman he is quickly falling in love with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DelSheree Gladden
• Release date: Feb 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370161645

DelSheree Gladden

DelSheree Gladden was one of those shy, quiet kids who spent more time reading than talking. She didn't speak a single word for the first few months of preschool. Her fascination with reading led to many hours spent in the library and bookstores, and eventually to writing. She wrote her first novel when she was sixteen years old, but spent ten years rewriting before it was published.Native to New Mexico, DelSheree and her family spent several years in Colorado before returning to northern New Mexico. When not writing novels, you can find DelSheree reading, hiking, sewing, playing with her dogs, and working with other authors.DelSheree has several bestselling young adult series and has hit the USA Today Bestseller list twice as part of box sets. DelSheree also has contemporary romance, cozy mystery, and paranormal new adult series. Her writing is as varied as her reading interests.

Book preview

Chapter One

Red Fingerprints

Gretchen’s body flew forward as her car fishtailed to a stop. Eyes clamped shut, it was impossible for her to tell whether she had stopped in time. She couldn’t bear to open them. What if she hadn’t? Her panicked breathing drew in the smells of exhaust and singed rubber, pushing her to open her eyes and get out of the car. Her racing heart and gasping breaths urged her to stay exactly where she was.

Eventually, Gretchen pried her eyelids open and glanced out the windshield. She couldn’t see anything. Tears burned her eyes worse than the fumes. She had to get out and make sure. Her fingers slipped trying to grasp the door handle, but after a few tries she pushed it open, letting in another blast of the foul air.

The staccato sound of her heels clicking on the asphalt seemed to echo as she walked around to the front of the car. Crisp March air bit at her as she paused before reaching the front end. Her eyes begged her to close them again, fearing what they would see, but she forced them to stay open and search. Failing evening light cast long shadows, but the crumpled mass lying in the road was immediately visible. Gretchen’s breath caught and her fingers wiped away tears.

Please, no, she whispered.

The body lay a few feet in front of her car. She stepped closer then looked back at her front bumper. It looked as good as it ever had, which wasn't saying much, but relief swept through her. There was no blood, no new dents. It looked exactly the same.

Gretchen hadn’t hit the crumpled body. She had stopped in time.

Good brakes had kept her from crushing the figure, but the man looked as though he had already been through three or four accidents. The design of the torn up slacks and ruined loafers he wore were the only things that gave any hint it was a man. Every visible inch of skin bore bruises and blood, the swelling so bad in some places, Gretchen wasn’t sure they would ever heal. The shock of nearly hitting him finally began to wear off, freeing her mind enough to take action.

Dropping down next to him, Gretchen pressed two fingers lightly against his neck. It was difficult to find the right spot, but she did feel a ragged pulse under his swollen skin. He was still alive somehow. Her finger came away bloody and left little red fingerprints on the screen of her phone as she dialed 911. Tears fell down her cheeks and mingled with the blood as she waited through two rings.

911. What is your emergency? the operator asked.

I found a body, a person, out on Highway 550. He needs an ambulance, Gretchen said, her voice still shaking.

Where are you located ma’am?

About half an hour from Bloomfield. I just passed the turnoff to Huerfano a few minutes ago, she said. This guy’s in really bad shape. He needs someone fast.

Is the man alive?

Yes, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay like that. It looks like someone beat him up with a tire iron or something. They just left him lying in the middle of the road. I almost ran him over, Gretchen cried. She couldn’t believe she had stopped in time. Should I try to move him out of the road? Someone’s going to hit us.

How heavy is the traffic? the operator asked.

I don’t see any other cars right now, but it has been busy on and off. It’s a pretty straight shot for a while. I should be able to see if anyone is coming, Gretchen said.

Turn on your vehicle’s hazard lights, so you’ll be seen.

Oh, of course, Gretchen said. She should have thought of that already. Jumping up from the pavement, she leaned into the car and turned the flashing lights on. She pulled the door shut just as a car sped past her. Looking up the road Gretchen saw the headlights of another car. They must have seen her lights because they signaled to cross into the other lane to get around her. Two more sets of headlights followed.

I think the traffic might be picking up, Gretchen told the operator.

 Can you move the body without causing further injury? she asked.

I…I don’t know. The man seemed fairly tall and decently built, and he was so banged up already Gretchen was afraid to even touch him. She didn’t want to hurt him worse. Another two cars flew by her. I can try.

Grab the man under his arms and carefully drag him away from the road if you can. If you can’t, keep yourself safe by standing out of the way of traffic. I’ve sent an ambulance and an officer from the sheriff’s department out to your location. They should be there in about fifteen minutes, the operator said calmly.

Fifteen minutes. Gretchen had no idea how long the poor man had been lying in the road before she found him, but she desperately hoped he could last another fifteen minutes. He was a stranger to her. That didn’t make the idea of him dying any easier to take. Gretchen would definitely feel responsible.

Ma’am. Ma’am? Are you still on the line?

Gretchen hadn’t realized the operator was still talking.

Yes, I’m still here, she said.

Did you try to move the body?

Um, not yet. Was that really a good idea? What was her other option, standing back and hoping he didn’t get run over? Another blaring horn and flash of wind from a speeding car helped her decide.

Setting her phone down, Gretchen slipped her hand under his arms and gently lifted his shoulders off the asphalt. She waited for some sign that she was hurting him, but his swollen face didn’t even react. Hoping he was really, really unconscious at the moment, Gretchen dragged him backward until his feet hit dirt. She laid him down as carefully as possible then ran to move her car off the road.

The 911 operator kept talking to Gretchen as she waited. She asked her questions about the man’s condition every few minutes. Gretchen described his injuries and looked around for any sign of his car, keys, wallet, anything that might belong to him, but found nothing. She suspected the operator was just trying to keep her from freaking out, but she was glad for the distraction. Every time she looked at the unmoving body, she wanted to sit down and cry.

When Gretchen finally saw the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance, the sun was nearly set, painting the desert a fiery orange. The paramedics pulled off the road just ahead of her car. Two sheriff’s patrol cars pulled up as well and put out reflective cones to divert traffic. The first paramedic to reach her asked her to move back, then began examining the man. Before the second paramedic moved to help his partner, he asked Gretchen a few questions.

She couldn’t answer any of them, unfortunately. No, she didn’t know his name, or what happened, or how he ended up in the middle of the road, or whether he was allergic to anything. She kept shaking her head as she watched them work. It went exactly the same way with the sheriff’s deputy. They asked all the same questions, plus a few more, but Gretchen didn’t have anything to tell them.

The deputy flipped his notepad closed and tucked it away as the paramedics loaded the man into the back of the ambulance.

Wait! Gretchen rushed over the paramedic who had spoken to her. Is he going to be okay? Where are you taking him?

We’re taking him to San Juan Regional Medical Center. As to whether he’s going to be okay, or not… He glanced over at the man on the gurney. Well, he’s stable for now, but there’s no telling just how badly he’s injured yet. The doctors at the hospital will have a better idea. He’s got some broken bones for sure, but there may be internal injuries as well.

Can I follow you guys to the hospital? I want to make sure he’s okay, Gretchen said.

Sure, the paramedic said, Just ask for John Doe when you get there. Looks like you’ll be the only one looking for him.

Chapter Two

Simple

Sunday night wasn’t the busiest night of the week at the hospital. That seemed unusual, but Gretchen didn’t dwell on it. She sat waiting in the Emergency Room lobby with only two other people, a guy with a broken pinky and woman holding a sick baby. Nurses and doctors zipped up and down the halls as they went back and forth between patients. Every time she saw one, she sat forward in anticipation. She’d already been there for two hours with no updates.

Gretchen had been on her way home from an education seminar in Albuquerque. Long and tiring, the seminar had drug on all day. Getting home and flopping onto the couch to catch up on her favorite shows had been her motivation for making it through the day. So much for that plan. Now she only wanted to know what was happening. Her head slipped into her hands as she wondered whether she would even make it home before the sun came up.

Miss Gesner?

Gretchen’s head popped up immediately. Yes? How is he?

The doctor’s feet opened up and his hands folded across his chest. He looked as though he were settling in. Expression empty, he gave no hint of what he was about to say. Gretchen’s chest seized up in panic. Was the man dead?

You’re not family. I’m not technically at liberty to discuss his case with you.

Please, I just want to know if he’s going to be all right. Besides, you don’t have any idea who he is. He may not have any family.

The doctor sighed and rubbed his head. Fine, fine. He’s in pretty bad shape, but we’ve done all we can for now. He’s still in critical condition, but we have him stabilized for the time being and are moving him to another floor for observation and continued care, the doctor said.

How bad was it? she asked.

He has a crushed ankle, a tibia broken in several places, and three broken ribs. One of the broken ribs very nearly punctured a lung. He was lucky there, at least. Bruising and swelling over about eighty percent of his body. A concussion. Thirty-seven stitches between the lacerations on his head, arms, and leg, and he has a cracked radius, he said. That’s the forearm. His condescending tone made her want to grab the clipboard out of his hand and hit him with it.

She nodded irritably instead. Gretchen knew where the radius was. She taught biology at one of the local high schools. In fact, she had to be back to work the next day at seven-thirty in the morning. The doctor didn’t know any of that, though. He didn’t know anything about her. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed her annoyance away. Is he going to be okay?

Most of his injuries should heal eventually, the doctor said, pausing, still looking more tired than concerned, but the main problem is that he still isn’t reacting to stimuli.

He’s in a coma? The poor man. If he didn’t wake up, how would anyone ever find out who he was? What if someone was looking for him? They would never know what had happened to him. "Is he going to wake up?" she asked.

There’s no way of knowing for sure. He may remain in a coma for the rest of his life, or he may wake up tomorrow, the doctor said with a weary shrug. He took some severe trauma to his head and there does appear to be some damage, but it’s hard to know the extent yet. We’re monitoring his brain activity for the time being. The scans are showing some activity, but there’s no way of knowing when or if he’ll wake up.

The doctor glanced over his shoulder as a nurse walked down the hall toward him. She whispered something to him before turning back the way she had come. I need to go, but if you have any more questions, talk to one of the nurses. If no one else is available, you can ask for me, though I’m the only doctor on staff tonight so I can’t guarantee I’ll get back to you very quickly. I’m Dr. Kent, in case you need to find me.

He made a quick nod and started away from Gretchen. If she had any more questions? Of course she had more questions. She had nothing but questions. Marching over to the reception desk, Gretchen asked the one question she needed answered most.

Can I see the John Doe the paramedics brought in a few hours ago?

Glancing at her computer, the receptionist read something on the screen before shaking her head. I’m sorry. It looks like Dr. Kent hasn’t cleared him for visitors. He’s being moved to the ICU. Only family members are allowed in his room.

But, I’m the one who found him. He doesn’t have any family here.

I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do until he’s moved out of ICU.

Thank you, Gretchen said dismally. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. Empty chairs waited to greet her again but, before she could claim one, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked at the scrubs-clad woman in surprise.

You found John Doe? she asked. Gretchen nodded and the nurse began towing her down the hall. Dr. Kent isn’t the most compassionate guy in the world, but he’s lax on visitation. Stay out of the way, and no one will mind if you’re in his room. Poor man’s been through enough without having to wake up alone in strange place.

Thank you. Relief flooded the antiseptic halls as they rushed through them. After an elevator ride, and what felt like miles of walking, the nurse stopped in front of a darkened room. She peeked through the door to make sure it was empty of staff before ushering Gretchen inside.

Seeing him again was harder than she expected. It was worse to see him bandaged up, wrapped in plaster, and strapped to the bed in case he woke up and panicked. The majority of his skin not covered by the hospital gown was bandaged. He was lost inside the wall of gauze. Pulling a chair up to his bed allowed Gretchen to sit down next to him.

His chest moved up and down shallowly, but the heart monitor kept beeping at a steady cadence, giving her hope he would pull through. She wanted to take his hand and let him know someone was there, but the dark purple splotches covering his skin held her back. Instead, Gretchen sat by his side watching his labored breathing, and following the jagged line that tracked his heartbeat. She watched and waited, and couldn’t help but wonder about his life.

Did he have a family? If he did, did they even know he was missing? What was he doing out on the highway? Was he just passing through, or was he from New Mexico? Most of all, she wondered what led to him being beat up and left for dead in the middle of the desert.

Gretchen sat watching his chest rise and fall until her eyelids began copying the motion. She knew she was about to fall asleep, but she couldn’t leave. He had nobody. Adjusting herself in the uncomfortable chair, she tried to stay awake.

He can hear you if you talk to him.

The voice startled Gretchen. Trying to recover from the surprise, she turned to see who had spoken. A middle-aged nurse in pale pink scrubs, not the one who had snuck her into the man’s room a few hours ago, stood behind Gretchen with a sad smile.

Can he really? Gretchen asked.

Nodding, the nurse moved over to the side of the bed and checked his vitals. There have been plenty of studies saying coma patients are at least partially aware of the sounds around them, she said. Plus, it helps the family, too. She marked everything down in the chart and turned back to Gretchen. The other nurse told me what happened to this guy. It’s too bad. You’re real sweet to stay with him.

I just want to make sure he’s going to be okay, Gretchen said. I feel responsible for him. Does that sound weird?

Not at all. When he wakes up, he’ll be glad to know somebody cared. Setting the chart back down in the sleeve at the end of the bed, she stuffed her pen back into her pocket. Talk to him. It will make you both feel better.

Shaking her head, Gretchen said, I don’t know what to say. I don’t even know him.

Then introduce yourself. My name’s Maria, by the way. She held her hand out and Gretchen shook it. Just press the call button if you need anything. Oh, and there’s a blanket and pillow in the cupboard over there.

When do visiting hours end? Gretchen asked.

Don’t worry about it. Feel free to stay as long as you want tonight.

Thanks, Maria.

She smiled and went on with her rounds. Her suggestion to talk to him stuck with Gretchen. She thought about what she should say to him for a long time. Too long probably. He was in a coma, after all. She didn’t even have a name for him, but she didn’t want to keep calling the guy Him or The Man. The only name he had was John Doe. Well, Gretchen thought, John isn’t so bad. He could get stuck with worse. It would have to do for now. Still unsure of how to start, she settled for simple.

Hi, John, my name is Gretchen Gesner.

Chapter Three

Just This Once

Gretchen thought she must have been asleep for at least an hour before Maria woke her at three in the morning and told her to go home and rest. There had been no change in John’s condition. Maria assured her there likely wouldn’t be for a while. Damage that severe would take time to recover from. Feeling guilty, even still, Gretchen had taken her advice and gone home.

It wasn’t until she pulled up to her house and heard her neighbor’s front door burst open that she remembered he had been waiting for her. Carl stormed across their front yards, panic and relief fighting for dominance in his expression and body language.

She only managed to get her door open and put one foot on the ground before he made it to her and yanked her into his arms. Where have you been? he demanded. Did you get any of my texts or calls? I’ve been freaking out! You were supposed to be back by six o’clock. I thought something had happened to you. What is going on?

Cringing at the fear in his voice, Gretchen felt horrible for worrying him. They had planned to watch a basketball game together that night when she got home, Carl grilling burgers for dinner even though it was still too chilly for barbecuing. It hadn’t even crossed her mind to text or call to tell him she wouldn’t make. She hadn’t looked at her phone once since getting back into her car to follow the ambulance.

Her relationship with Carl was complicated, but she felt awful for scaring him. I’m really sorry. It’s been a crazy night, she said as she relaxed into his embrace. It wasn’t something she would normally allow, but she was exhausted on every level.

What happened? Carl asked, more calm now that he had her in his arms and knew she wasn’t dead or kidnapped.

That thought made her flinch, because John wouldn’t be going home to his family, if he had one, any time soon. Guilt she didn’t completely understand poked at her.

It’s a really long story, and I need to get some sleep before school tomorrow.

Call in sick, he ordered.

I’ll get docked points on my evaluation, Gretchen complained.

It doesn’t matter. You’re about to drop. A few hours of sleep isn’t going to make you ready to deal with a bunch of high school punks. Call in sick, or I’ll do it for you.

They aren’t punks, Gretchen snapped, though there wasn’t much bite behind it. I’ll be fine. And you can’t call in sick for me.

Carl laughed. I think you’re forgetting I’ve lived here all my life and have known your boss a hell of a lot longer than you. I’ve been calling everyone, including her, to try and figure out where you are. I’ll call her if you don’t. I mean it.

Even though Gretchen hated when he bossed her around and pretended to always know what was best for her, she could barely keep her eyes open and was on the verge of asking Carl to carry her to her house. Which he would certainly do. She sighed. Asking anything like that of Carl would be a huge mistake, but she was forced to admit he was right about calling in. Three hours of sleep was not going to be enough to get her through a full day of teaching.

Fine.

She didn’t have to look up at Carl to know he was gloating. Shaking her head, she tried to pull out of his arms. He wasn’t interested in letting her go. The only concession he gave was to turn her toward her house and go from full embrace to an arm around her shoulders.

After unlocking her front door, Gretchen intended to tell him goodbye and send him packing before he could read anything more into what was happening than she knew he already had. Carl was not a small man. So when he swept her into his arms, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do to stop him aside from weakly complain.

Put me down, she whined.

He ignored her while shutting and locking her front door.

You’re not staying, Gretchen said. Her voice was as stern as it could possibly be at three a.m., but had little effect on him.

I don’t hear from you for nine hours, when you’ve been traveling alone, and you think I’m just going to say goodnight and go to bed? He scoffed. Keep dreaming, Gretchen.

Gentle, despite his annoyed tone, Carl set her down on the couch and took the spot right next to her. "Now, what happened, and where have you been all night?"

There was no chance of getting him to leave without an explanation. At the hospital, Gretchen said with a sigh.

What? His gaze scanned her body, looking for signs of injuries.

I’m fine, she reassured him, but something happened on the way back. Not to me, but…I was driving and saw something in the road. I thought maybe it was an animal. It…wasn’t.

Carl’s eyebrows rose. It was a person? When Gretchen nodded, his concern deepened. Dead?

She closed her eyes, trying not to picture John’s mangled body. Almost.

Gretchen, wow, I’m sorry, he said. That couldn’t have been an easy thing to see.

I almost hit him, Gretchen whispered.

Carl’s pulled her to him, and stroked her hair. It wouldn’t have been your fault, but you didn’t hit him, and you called for help, right? You did everything you could.

His words sounded so final, like she could walk away with a clear conscience. Shaking the feeling of responsibility for the poor man lying alone in the hospital was impossible. Discussing that with Carl felt…strange. Instead, she asked, Who won the game?

The groan of disappointment gave away the answer, but he said, Not the Nuggets. They’re down by three games now, and not looking like they’re going to come back.

Sorry, Gretchen said, mostly heartfelt in her condolence. She had never bothered to follow sports before moving in next to Carl. Even after seven months of watching games with him, she still didn’t really follow his favorite teams, so much as support his addiction.

The weekend Gretchen arrived in New Mexico with a small U-Haul trailer packed with her entire life, Carl had seen her struggling to wheel her dresser into the house and strode across the neglected lawn to help. Even though she’d shied away from his help and friendliness, he’d unloaded the entire trailer and had stuck around ever since.

Watching games together started with preseason football soon after she moved in. She’d tried to refuse the invitation. Carl was hard to resist, especially when he never gave up asking. He seemed to understand a romantic relationship was the last thing on her mind when starting her first teaching job and moving to an unfamiliar town, and was simply there to keep her company when she was feeling lonely. At first.

Carl made no secret of the fact that he would like more, if the offer were on the table. It wasn’t. He respected that, for the most part. Gretchen didn’t really mind his stolen hugs and the occasional arm around her shoulders as much as she got onto him about it. She wasn’t in a place where she could admit that to him, but she cherished his friendship. Until she got to know some of her coworkers better, he’d been her only friend in town, and he had been a good one.

You could have called me, Carl said. I would have driven out to help, and waited with you at the hospital.

I know, Gretchen said quietly. I’m sorry I didn’t. I was just so scared and worried, I guess I shut everything else out.

He pressed her closer to his chest and took a deep breath. Is the guy going to be okay?

Gretchen could only shrug. Nobody’s sure. He was still unconscious when I left. Yawning, but too tired to attempt covering it, Gretchen’s eyes slowly began to close. I’ll check on him tomorrow.

Carl was quiet for a moment. You will?

She nodded and tried to tell herself to get up and go to bed. Alone.

Why?

He’s…by himself, and hurt, she said, her words broken up by another yawn.

Gretchen, Carl said cautiously, this may not be something you want to get involved in. If it’s drug related…

Gretchen wanted to shake her head at the suggestion, but even though the town was fairly small, Carl had told her stories of cartel influence and trafficking. They lived in the northern part of New Mexico, but it was still a border state. His warning did give her a moment’s pause, but the need to know the man she’d rescued was at least going to survive was too strong to overcome.

I’ll just stop by and make sure he’s doing all right. I can’t imagine waking up alone from something like that.

Carl sighed. She knew he’d continue to fight her on the subject, but it was well after three in the morning, and Gretchen knew despite his insistence that she call in sick to work, he wouldn’t do the same. It reminded her that she really did need to call in, and pulled away from Carl to find her phone.

She fished around in her purse sleepily before Carl finally took it from her hands and extracted her phone. He handed it over and leaned his head back against the couch as though he intended to stay there all night. Shaking her head, Gretchen sent her message and turned to face him.

Without opening his eyes, Carl snaked his arm around her waist and pulled her to his chest. Her lips parted to complain, but he spoke first. Just once, let me have this, okay? He settled his chin on the top of her head and exhaled slowly. "I thought something awful had happened, and I was going crazy waiting to hear from you. I want to be mad at you for letting me