Reclaiming His Past Read Online Free PDF

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    â€œYour name could be Gabriel.” Something flickered in her eyes. He sensed she wanted to trust this wasn’t an act.
    â€œOr Gilbert.”
    Leaning over, she studied the entry. “I can’t decipher it.”
    â€œWhy can’t I remember my own name?” Frustration built inside him. Closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “We can’t know for sure if this is truly mine.”
    He would not give in to the panic. Keep it together. She already thinks you’re suspect. Falling to pieces won’t help your case.
    She unfolded a shirt and held it out in front of her. “Looks like it would fit you.”
    Regulating his breathing, he forced his gaze to hers. “I know you have theories about me. I’d like to hear them.”
    Jessica lowered the shirt, her surprise evident. “I doubt that.”
    â€œI can’t say for certain, but I have a feeling I’m a practical kind of guy. No use avoiding the unpleasantness of life. Just delays the inevitable.”
    â€œAll right.” Sinking into the chair once more, she finger-combed her mane with long, meditative strokes. “Most obvious theory? You’re an outlaw on the run from authorities or rival criminals.”
    â€œAm I a notorious outlaw or a basic, run-of-the-mill criminal?”
    â€œYou’re a man who’s conflicted about your misdeeds.”
    â€œThat’s good to know,” he said wryly. “Next theory.”
    â€œYou stole another man’s wife.”
    He shook his head, such a thing unfathomable. “I stole another man’s horse.”
    She tapped her chin. “You swindled someone in a business deal.”
    This game of pretend wasn’t helping his dark mood. “Let’s move on to the theories where I’m the good guy, shall we?”
    A slim gold ring with a ruby setting flashed on her right hand. “Okay. You were traveling through the area, minding your own business, when you were ambushed by ruffians.”
    â€œSounds plausible.” And much more palatable than anything else she’d thrown at him. “There’s no money in this bag or on my person. I wouldn’t have traveled without funds.”
    She nodded. “You could’ve stored the money in your saddlebags, which they took along with your horse.”
    He rested a hand atop the Bible. “Could I be a circuit-riding preacher?”
    She looked dubious. “We don’t really have those in these parts. Are there notes on the pages? A preacher would probably have written down thoughts and ideas, underlined important verses.”
    While the pages appeared well-worn, and a couple of passages in Psalms had been underlined, he didn’t see any handwriting. “I could’ve recorded my thoughts and sermons in a separate journal.”
    â€œThe Bible could mean one of two things—either you treasure it so much you couldn’t bear to travel without it, or you treasure the person who gave it to you. A parent or grandparent would be the most likely candidate.”
    â€œI uttered a prayer earlier. It wasn’t something I actively thought about.”
    â€œThat’s good.” Clasping her hands together, she said, “Jane is better at this than I am. She’s more inventive.”
    He seized on the rare revelation of personal information. He was done discussing himself. “Does she live nearby?”
    â€œA couple of miles away. She’s married to a wonderful man, Tom Leighton. They’re raising his young niece, Clara, together.”
    The wistfulness in her voice wasn’t lost on him. Did she long for a husband and children? What were his own opinions about love and marriage?
    â€œDo your other sisters live in Gatlinburg, as well?”
    â€œAll but one. Juliana makes her home in Cades Cove.”
    He pressed into the headboard, the wood digging into his shoulder blades. “Cades Cove. That name