Author's Note: First, I'd like to express my deep, deep gratitude to Renas Asylum, MissScarlett202, reddog25770, and redwolf22 for having started this journey with me and for still sticking around - I don't know any of you but I want you to know that reading your reviews and knowing that someone actually reads what I write has encouraged to me to keep writing this. Please PM me anytime! (PS I'm still looking for a beta…)

Again, I'd like to apologize if I have made geographical errors re Washington and Oregon, my only excuse being that I'm not a native of the US and am basically relying on Google and Wikipedia for my information…which may not be the smartest thing to be doing.

Lastly, in case anyone is wondering, there IS actually a Harbor, Oregon, although I've taken some liberties with describing it. Likewise, Wolf River Inn is loosely based on "Wolf Creek Inn" (which also actually exists) in Southern Oregon. I found it accidentally one day while stuck in the beginning of chapter 3 and during a random google of the word "wolf" – see .com for pictures.

Chapter 7

Where She Was Found

BPOV

"Bye Bella!" Rosie called to me as she, Abby and Maggie got into her old car. The three of them worked as chambermaids and waitresses at the Wolf River Inn and along with Jesse the chef and Maggie's husband Aaron the gardener, they ran the place with Emma. Emma often joked that if she died in her sleep, they could go on running it without her for weeks before they even noticed she was gone. This was usually met with a round of denials and good natured objections.

"Sure I'd know" Aaron said "If you went and died Miz Emma, I'd only have Maggie here to nag me and it would be a heck of lot quieter!" he joked.

From the first day, they had welcomed me and treated like part of their family – especially Maggie and Aaron who were both in their sixties now and who had never had children of their own. In fact, according to Rosie, other than the occasional honeymoon couple, I was the youngest resident that inn had had since Dr. Jake left for medical school - even the guests were mostly middle-aged sportsmen who had come for the fishing in the area.

I waved back at them and got into my old jeep that Dr. Taggart – Dr. Jake now, had helped me find – red. Or it had been red. But I kind of liked the washed out red color, there was something comfortingly familiar about it. I had even named it Bessie after Aaron told me it was old and sturdy and could possibly withstand a herd of stampeding cows. It was old but it got me to town and back on the few days a week that I left the Inn.

I had been living here for almost a year now. At times, it seemed like I'd always belonged here and at other times, I would feel a tightness in my chest, a longing for something I couldn't quite define, like I would never really be complete until I knew what it was I was missing.

My memory never really came back. Dr. Jake, who visited Emma often, said that in most cases, it helped the patient if they were in familiar surroundings or if they had familiar faces around. He said that in those cases, sometimes a single face or a familiar place or even a phrase or gesture could unlock the subconscious part of the mind where the memories were lying dormant. He told me that the memory process was like a machine – and that we just needed to find the right "switch". But unfortunately, we didn't know where I was from and didn't have that option. He said there were specialists I could see in Portland or Seattle and often offered to take me to see one. But despite my loss of memories, I was oddly content at the Inn, with my new family.

To be honest, part of me was afraid to find out who I really was. I could never come up with an explanation convincing enough to cover the fact that I had apparently been running from something or someone, nor could I find any explanations why I had been traveling with so much cash. On the rare occasions that Sheriff Knowles and his wife Janine came to have dinner at the inn, I'd ask them if there had been any inquiries about me but I was always disappointed, until I'd stopped asking altogether.

At any rate, I found that I was happy with my life, my new job at the Inn. At first, I had been skeptical that I would really be of any help and feared that Emma had taken me in only as a charity case. What Emma called "running" the place was really just limited to manning the reception desk, and doing the account books. The staff was so well trained that they really didn't need more than an occasional reminder of what to do. But after a while, I got my bearings and Emma let me take on more responsibility. I would take reservations, attend to the guests as they checked in or out of the inn, order supplies and make sure they were delivered on time or call for the occasional repairmen when the need arose.

Harbor, Oregon was the nearest town to the inn and it still took a half an hour to get there. It was quiet and small, and everyone seemed to know everyone else. Main Street consisted of small offices of the town's few accountants and other professionals, the local branch of Payless Shoe store, Long's Drugstore, the local bank, a salon and barbershop, the local hardware store and an Antique shop run by Jodi's sister Marsha. Other than the ubiquitous fast food joints, there was only one other place to eat in town, Main Street Café, across the street from the town's only gas station and car repair shop.

On my first few months, I had been apprehensive about going into town to run my few errands. I always felt like everyone was staring at me, speculating on who I was and probably wondering if I were some criminal or serial killer who had temporarily lost her memory and had ended up in their little town. But like in all small towns, the people in Harbor were really just simple, friendly folk and eventually, the curiosity turned into acquaintance, the acquaintance into acceptance, until I was no longer the strange "girl with the amnesia" but was generally accepted as "Miz Emma's girl" from the Inn. It felt good to me that the shopkeepers knew my name, that Suzy at the café kept a special booth for me and that I seemed to belong here even if I had only been here for about a year.

With Emma and Jake's encouragement, I even enrolled in some courses in business and journalism at the local community college's summer session, making the half an hour trip two afternoons a week to attend my classes and while I was there, to run whatever little errands Emma had for me. They had wanted me to enroll for a degree full time, but with no school records or any proof of my identity or even age, I had to settle for taking the few classes I had on my schedule now.

I looked forward to those two days a week when I went to Harbor and I loved my classes at the community college. I think, in my "real" life, that I must have been a good student, or at least I must have read a lot because once I had access to the library I discovered how much I loved to read.

Anyway, that was where I was headed now, to school.

While I loved Emma and the rest, it was still nice to be around people my age sometimes although I never made any deep friendships at school, always worried that becoming friends with someone would give occasion for questions about my past and how I came here. And it was awkward having to explain. Occasionally, some boy would try to ask me out, but after a few attempts without any spark of interest showing on my part, they would usually leave me alone. The girls were not as much of a concern, in a town this small a new girl was always viewed with a faint distrust, as competition for the few remaining boys who had opted to stay instead of moving to the bigger cities like Portland. Thus, it was easy for me to be invisible almost, or at least to blend in, like I had always belonged here.

The only real exception to my friendless state was Bethany Mitchell, Jodi's daughter from her first marriage. Dr. Jake and Jodi had brought her to the Inn for dinner once and I had been in charge of serving their table that night. We had instantly taken a liking to each other. Bethany was a sophomore at the community college, studying to be a nurse like her mom. Unlike Jodi, who was always calm and unflappable, Bethany was bubbly, boisterous and open, with an occasionally warped sense of humor that never failed to cheer me up. I guessed she was around my age although I suppose we'd never be sure, and I usually felt so much older than she was. While we didn't have any classes together, we got off at around the same time and usually headed to the Main Street Café for a cup of coffee or a snack after school before I went off on my errands.

Today I got off a little earlier than usual, my English Literature professor had given us a pop quiz and then had sent us home once we had finished. It was still warm outside, and sunny, although in the late evenings, you could already feel the temperature dropping just a bit, warning of the coming fall. Since I had some time on my hands, I decided to leave my car at the school parking lot and walk the few short blocks to the Main Street Café, completing my few errands for the day on the way. Bethany wouldn't be there for at least another half an hour yet anyway.

I got to the café in a few, pleasant minutes and slid into our usual booth by the window overlooking Main Street. The waitress Suzy, who knew me by name now, and expected Bethany and me to come in every Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, walked by and placed my usual cup of coffee in front of me.

"Hey Bella!" she said cheerfully, "You're kinda early today aren't you? Would you like some blueberry pie to go with your coffee while you're waiting?" she asked me,

"No thanks Suzy! Just the coffee for now. You know Bethany will be ordering loads of food later anyway and since she never finishes her food…." I trailed off, smiling at her. Bethany approached food like she approached life, with gusto and with a child's eagerness to try everything all at once, hence her supposed constant battle with the bulge – at least in her head - she looked perfectly fine to me, beautiful and young and carefree.

I sighed and turned my head to look at my reflection in the glass window, it was opaque but I mentally catalogued the picture in my mind's eye. Oval face, dark brown hair, brown eyes – the only pretty thing about me was my skin, which was clear and smooth – except for the scar very close to the hairline over my left eyebrow. Dr. Jake said it had needed stitches from my accident and I must have gotten it when I hit my head on the wheel. I had gained some weight over the months that had passed after I left the hospital but I could still see a bit of a hollow in my cheeks and dark shadows beneath my eyes. At least my hair had mostly grown back, it was now almost about shoulder length. Felicity said it had been much longer when they brought me in, but they had to cut most of it off in the ER to treat my scalp lacerations.

I was eventually brought out of my reverie when I saw a small, bouncing and wildly gesticulating figure next to a familiar green Mazda Miata parked next to a pump at the gas station across the street. I must have missed the first part of her charade, but Bethany seemed to be alternately nodding towards a shiny black car that was just pulling out of the gas station and miming fanning herself and wiping her brow exaggeratedly. I had to grin although I had absolutely no idea what she was going on and on about.

She breezed into the café a few minutes later, her hair in a halo of curls around her head, looking like a miniature Irish souvenir doll with her red hair and the Kelly green top she was wearing.

"Well hello Ms. Woolf! You're early today." she said bouncing into her seat. "Coffee please, Suzy! And the menu too!" as if the menu ever changed since the day she had first come in here with her mom, all of three years old.

My new name, Bella Woolf, was kind of a joke between us. I was released from the hospital with the records bearing only the appellation "Jane Doe", since they had been filled out when I was still unconscious and later, we weren't even sure if "Bella" was my real name.

When I was filling out applications for Harbor Community College, I had no idea what to write on the personal information sheet. Bethany, who was helping me at the time, went to town creating a new identity for me.

"Wow! You could be anything. Father's name - hmmm….Juan Carlos of Spain? I know! I know! Mick Jagger!! You could be Bella Jagger" she joked. I mock frowned at her. We had only known each other a few months at this point, but already, I loved Bethany like a sister – she was in fact, probably as close to a sister as I would ever have, given my circumstances.

"Be serious pixie!" I told her.

"Ok, ok… " she relented "Write birthday July 4th 1989, this way you'll never have to work on your birthday. And you'll be 21 already in a few months and we can get into bars!" she dictated over my shoulder, cackling gleefully.

"Name - Bella of course. Unless you wanna change it to something more exotic like…Talulah, Cassandra or Scarlett?" she suggested. I had rolled my eyes at her silliness and laughed.

"Last name – hmm….how about Ford? Dr. Jake said you were found in a ford truck…no scratch that…too morbid.." she said, shuddering delicately. "Taggart?" she asked me.

I shook my head.

"Don't you think living here for free isn't enough of an imposition? You think I should steal their last name too?" I asked her sarcastically. "Besides, it's bad enough that everyone's gossiping that I must be Dr. Jake's secret lovechild from the '80s – imagine what they'd say if I started using their last name."

"Ok how about Woolf? Like Virginia Woolf? Bella Woolf from Wolf River Inn. That sounds cool!" she enthused, bouncing on my bed like an overly caffeinated pixie.

"I think I can live with that…Bella Woolf" I said, rolling the name around in my mouth. I liked the sound of that somehow.

"Bella? Bella, weren't you paying attention? Earth to Bella!" she said waving her hand in front of me and brining me back to the present.

"Ooops sorry Beth, I was miles a way for a second…" I apologized to my friend. "What was that again?"

"I said…Bella, did you not see me across the street?" she asked exasperatedly.

"Well, not entirely. But I did catch the end of your performance…" I joked, "What was that all about?"

"Oh my god Bella, the mooooosssst divinely beautiful man was in that black car!! He was like seven feet tall or something…like a Greek god. Soooo sooo hot!" she said grinning wickedly and pretending to fan herself again.

"Really, Beth." I said wryly, knowing only too well how Bethany could occasionally exaggerate and get overexcited "Now what would a Greek God be doing in Harbor, Oregon you think?"

"Well honey, if he needs anything, and I mean anything at all, tell him to come in here." Suzy, who must have been all of 56 years old, winked playfully at me, placing Bethany's cup and the menu down on the table.

"I don't know!" Bethany laughed from behind the menu where she had buried her head. "Banana pancakes please Suzy. Maybe he was lost? Bella, would a side order of bacon be weird with that since it's like three in the afternoon? I would have jumped his bones too if only...Oh and some hash browns please."

Suzy just rolled her eyes at me, religiously writing down, correctly may I add, the entirety of Bethany's weird order. Breakfast food at three pm. Something only Bethany would do.

Both of us were used to Bethany's usual stream of consciousness-type conversations and had each been able to follow the particular aspects of Bethany's monologue that had been directed at us in particular. Suzy bustled away to place Suzy's order.

"So why didn't you? You could have at least introduced yourself – the jumping his bones part maybe would have been a little, itty bitty premature for a first meeting." I teased her.

"You think?" She smiled naughtily and then continued "I was actually going to, introduce myself I mean, but he was with this Amazon type girl…Pocahontas rather. She was beeeee-youuuu-ti-ful even if I only ever saw her profile from the window. Just my luck, a Greek God finally comes to Harbor, Oregon and he's taken." She complained good naturedly.

"Well, maybe they're staying in town and you'll still get your chance." I reassured her.

"Ha ha. Funny Woolf." she said, sipping her now cooling coffee.

A few minutes later, her order arrived and we got caught up speculating on whether or not Dr. Jake was about to propose to Bethany's mom and when he would do it.

And all thoughts of Pocahontas and the Greek God were forgotten.

--- 000 ---

"I really gotta go Beth. You know Emma worries when I drive after dark." I said getting up from the table. It was almost five o'clock by the time we were done with the girl talk and although the afternoon sky was still golden with the sun of an Indian summer, the shadows were already lengthening.

"I'll walk you to your car." Bethany offered starting to walk with me.

We had only gone half a block when Bethany suddenly gasped, clutched my arm and dragged me into the recessed doorway of Heirlooms, the antique store run by her aunt Marsha. Like most small towns, it appeared to me that Bethany was related in some way or other, to everyone in Harbor.

"You idiot!" I laughed at her antics "…why are we hiding? And why are you whispering?"

"Bella…" she hissed, staring down the street at the local Bank. "The Greek God! He's still here!" she stage whispered.

I looked up from where I had been fumbling in my bag for my keys, down the street to the town's one and only ATM machine.

All the color drained from my face. And my heart stopped beating for what seemed like an interminable length of time.

I knew that face, I remembered that smile. All of a sudden, just like that, I knew who I was.

"Bella? Bella? Hey? What's wrong…." I could hear Bethany say, but her voice seemed to be coming from a long, long way off….. and then I felt nothing.

"Damn this blackness…" was my last thought, "…why is this always happening to me?"