Disclaimers: I don't own the show and I never will.
Summary: Jill's emotions continue to trouble her as she contemplates how she truly feels about this stranger who claims to be her husband.
A/N: Things do start taking a step in the right direction with this chapter.
Chapter 11: Storms and Returning Memories
When they reached the stable, Mike dismounted from the horse before helping her down. Trap walked in as Mike was removing the saddle and blanket from Ranger. "I'll take care of the horse. You'd better go and let Paul know that you're back before he calls out the National Guard," Trap called out as he walked over and took the horses' reins. "Where'd you find her?"
"Under a tree up in the hills," Mike answered as he walked over and helped her to her feet. "Come on, let's go tell him that you're back."
"No."
"Jill, come on. He was worried about you."
"Then . . . you go. I'm . . . going to . . . go . . . feed the . . . ducks," she announced stubbornly as she held her head up and hobbled out of the stable.
"I don't think she likes Paul very much," Trap observed as he groomed the horse.
"Well she's stuck with him. I can't do this alone. At least, not yet," he said as he left the stable and headed to the house.
Paul was leafing nervously through a magazine when Mike opened the front door and walked in. "Please tell me that you found her and she's not covered in snake bites."
"She's perfectly all right," Mike smiled, amused by the therapist's worrying.
"Where is she now? She needs to get ready to go into the pool before it gets dark."
"She's down at the dock feeding the ducks. Let me change my clothes and I'll take her to the pool. I think you've had more than enough for one day. I was thinking. I have tomorrow off. Why don't you take the day off and I'll handle Jill?"
"Does this mean that you're also going to give her the day off? After the stunt that she pulled today, do you really think she deserves a day off?" Paul pointed out angrily.
"I should've told you that she likes to wander around. That was my fault and I apologize. Lt. Ryker told me that when she was here before she'd walk around for hours at a time. It's just something that she does."
"You weren't staying out here with her?"
"I couldn't. Someone was trying to kill Ryker and it wasn't safe to have a bunch of cops hanging around."
"Well, she was able to get around on two perfectly good legs. I'm upset about today, Mike. I don't see how all of you can take this so lightly. She falls at least a dozen times a day. You've seen the bruises. She could've gotten seriously hurt out there and none of would've known how to find her."
"You're right and again, I'm sorry. I'll make sure that it doesn't happen again. Let me change so that I can get her into the pool."
"You know that she's going to fight you," Paul reminded him. "Can I ask you what in the hell that guy did to her to make her so fearful of deep water?"
"He hit her with a huge stick and knocked her unconscious into the deep end of the pool. If Trap hadn't been there, she would've drowned. The first time I ever went swimming with her, she also accused me of trying to drown her. That's when she told me."
"The guy sounds like a real winner," Paul sighed. "Are you sure that you can handle her by yourself all day?"
"Yeah."
"I want her to do her morning exercises and I want her in the pool sometime tomorrow. Other than that, the day is yours to do as you please."
"Thanks, Paul."
Jill was sitting on the edge of the dock with her legs dangling toward the water when Mike came over and sat down next to her. "Bread?" She offered him some of the dried bread that she was holding out for the ducks, who were delightedly yanking the pieces out of her hand.
"No thanks."
"Was he . . . really mad?"
"He wasn't happy," Mike sighed. "Promise me that you won't go wandering off like that again. Trap and I didn't take it very seriously because we know you and we know that you like to wander. But Paul pointed out that you could've gotten hurt out there. You could've fallen or gotten bitten by a snake. It's just too risky. Stay close to the house until I get home, and then I'll go walking with you wherever you want to go."
"I'm sorry."
"Hey, no harm done. But I do have some bad news," he announced as she stopped feeding the ducks to look expectantly at him. "Paul wants you to get in the pool for your exercises before it gets dark."
She then noticed the way that Mike was dressed. "You're . . . taking me?" She asked, noticing his attire.
"I told Paul that I would. Come on, let's get your clothes changed," he stood up and held his hand out to her.
Looking at his outstretched hand, she had another flash of déjà vu, similar to the night before. "Wait."
"Jill, come on. It's going to be dark soon and the pool gets cold enough as it is," he took her hand and gently helped her to her feet.
Pulling her up against his chest, she stared into his eyes wondering if he was going to kiss her. For the first time that she could remember, she found herself wishing that he would. His eyes were brilliant. She felt as if she could easily get lost in his gaze. "For . . . how long?" She asked as she quickly broke the spell.
"How long do you usually stay in with Paul? Don't lie, because I can check with him," he smiled as she started laughing. He couldn't get over how wonderful it was to hear her laugh again.
"Half . . . an hour."
"Then half an hour it is. I have the day off tomorrow, and I gave Paul the day off, as well. He wants you to exercise in the morning and to do your pool exercises sometime tomorrow, but other than that, the day is ours," he told he as they walked toward the house.
"Just us?
"Are you okay with that?"
"Oh yeah," she smiled as they entered the house. "I'll be . . . back . . . in a . . . few . . . minutes." She changed into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before going out to the pool with Mike. The water was cold and it took both of their breaths away as they made their way toward the far end. "Slow . . . down."
"You're okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promises as they make their way to the wall in the six-foot section of the pool.
For the next half hour, Jill worked on strengthening her weaker right side, complaining about the cold water the entire time. "Can we . . . please . . . get . . . out?"
"In a few more minutes," he said as he started swimming laps.
"Can Willie . . . and . . . Terry . . . come . . . over?"
He smiled, thinking that she sounded like a child asking if her friends could come over to play. "If you finish your exercises without complaining any more, I'll call them after dinner and let you talk to them."
"Mike!"
"Jill, stop! The time that you're wasting complaining about how cold you are could be spent finishing up."
"You're mad?"
He stopped swimming and looked at her. Her brown eyes were brimming with tears. He sighed, feeling like a total ass. He was well aware of how scared she was of deep water, yet here he was, forcing her to do something that terrified her. He swam over to her. "I'm not mad. Come on, let's get you out and inside to warm up."
After supper, as promised, Mike put in a call to the guys, who were thrilled to talk to Jill. They told her that they couldn't come out to visit the next day, but they made plans for the coming weekend. The three guys made plans to barbecue, much to Jill's delight.
"So how's she doing?" Terry asked Mike after he'd finished talking to Jill.
"Better. She wandered off today which didn't thrill Paul too much. I think that she just got restless. But her speech and mobility are improving."
"That's great. Hey, right after you left this afternoon, Ryker got a call from the D.A. They said that Cummings trial is scheduled to start in a couple of weeks."
"I already talked to the D.A. He wants Jill to testify."
"Are you kidding? Did you explain to him that she has no memory of what happened?"
"Yeah, of course I explained all of that," Mike explained patiently. "But he wants some of the victims to testify. I guess he thinks that it'll make an impact on the jury."
He talked to Terry for a few more minutes before hanging up. Paul came out a few minutes later with his gym bag. "I guess I'll see you in a couple of days," he said as he walked to the door.
"Thanks, Paul."
"Jill's on the back patio. I think that she's exhausted, as well she should be after her trek this afternoon."
"Goodnight, Paul," Mike said pointedly as he closed and locked the door behind the therapist.
He then went out on the back patio where he found his wife sitting with her feet propped up on one of the empty patio chairs. He lifted her feet and sat down before placing her feet in his lap. "What're . . . you doing?"
"Sitting here," he replied innocently. "Do you want me to move?"
She looked at him, realizing that he was leaving the decision up to her. She didn't understand what was happening, only that it seemed to be happening too fast. She found herself feeling strange now when she was around him. At first, in the hospital, she'd considered him a friend; someone that she could depend on. She just didn't understand the way that she was feeling around him now. She knew that she'd never felt this way about Cleve, or anybody else, for that matter. She found herself wondering how soon he'd want to take that next step. Because that next step scared the hell out of her. "No . . . you're . . . okay," she finally answered, wondering if she sounded as out of breath as she suddenly felt.
"Paul thinks that you're probably tired after your long walk this afternoon," he suggested as he gently began to rub her feet, something that he'd often done for her before after she was on her feet all day at the hospital. He watched her reaction as he touched her. She briefly flinched at the intimate touch, but she didn't pull away.
"Can we . . . go . . . back . . . to that . . . tree . . . tomorrow?"
"We can take a picnic lunch out there if you want to," he agreed as he watched her face. "Jill? What's wrong? Did I say something?"
"Picnic?" She frowned as she tried to remember. Someone had told her a story once about a picnic under a tree.
"Jill?" He tried to break through to her.
"A picnic . . . sounds nice," she finally smiled.
"Were you remembering something? You looked like you were a thousand miles away," he commented as he continued massaging her feet.
"I'm not . . . sure. I think . . . I am . . . tired," she announced as she pulled her feet from his lap.
***MJMJMJ***
Jill was asleep several hours later when the nightmare started. She was in a dark cellar while thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Suddenly the cellar began to fill up with water. It poured down the earthen walls, quickly filling the small room. She held her breath as long as she could, but the water kept rising. She screamed and screamed for someone to please open the door and let her out, but the only sound she heard was Cleve's sadistic laughter.
"No! Let me out! Cleve! Open the door! Let me out! Somebody please! Let me out!"
In the room next door, Mike was sound asleep when he heard the all too familiar sound of Jill crying out in terror. She was screaming for somebody to please let her out. He also noticed that she wasn't stuttering as she screamed for help. He didn't know what she wanted to be let out of, but he jumped out of bed and pulled his robe on before running into her room. She was sitting straight up in bed, crying out and throwing punches at the air with her fists as she continued screaming for help. He ran over to the bed and gently touched her on the shoulder to wake her up. "Jill, wake up," he whispered. "You're dreaming. Come on, baby. Wake up."
She awoke with a start when she heard the thunder in the distance. "Storm," she whispered as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
"Yeah, but I think it's going to bypass us," he sat on the edge of the bed. "It keeps getting further away. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?"
"Cellar. Water . . . was . . . coming in. I screamed . . . but . . . nobody . . . came."
"It's okay. It was just a dream," he consoled her as she began to cry. "Jill, it's okay. You're safe now. It was just a bad dream."
"No," she shook her head. "That . . . happened," she insisted through her tears.
"In your dream, baby. You're not dreaming now," he continued soothing her as he brushed her hair from her forehead.
"No you . . . don't . . . understand. Before I . . . left . . . with Cleve . . . he locked . . . me in the . . . cellar. Trick. The cellar . . . leaked. It was . . . raining . . . and the . . . water . . . began . . . coming in. It . . . flooded . . . once . . . when I . . . was small. I thought . . . it was . . . going to . . . flood . . . again."
Everything made perfect sense now. The old Jill had been unable to voice her fear of thunderstorms. The new Jill didn't have that fear. She had the ability to tell him what her fears were. "How long were you down there?" He asked as he continued stroking her hair.
"I don't . . . know. I pounded . . . on the . . . door . . . until . . . my hands . . . were . . . bloody. He . . . finally . . . let me . . . out. He . . . called . . . me a . . . baby! I was . . . so afraid!" She sobbed as he pulled her to his chest and gently rubbed her back.
"Baby, I'm so sorry," he sympathized as he continued rubbing her back. "But you're safe now."
She felt herself relaxing in his arms as he rubbed circles on her back. Breathing in the scent of him, she had another flash of memory. But as with the others, this one also made no sense. The warmth of him and the sound of his heart beating reassuringly in her ear made her feel secure for what seemed to be the first time. "Mike? Can you . . . stay . . . here?"
"You want me to stay here with you?" He repeated her request in case he'd misunderstood it the first time.
"Please?" She murmured sleepily as she tightened her grip on his robe to keep him from leaving.
"In that case, yes, I can stay," he slipped off his robe and got under the covers, pulling her into his arms as she quickly fell asleep. He lay awake for a long time, just holding her and watching her sleep. He smiled as he relaxed and fell asleep himself.
When he woke up the next morning he was surprised to find that Jill had actually stayed in his arms all night, something that rarely happened, but had been more frequent since the restaurant shooting. As quietly as he could, he untangled his arms and legs from hers before taking a shower and going to the kitchen to cook breakfast.
Jill awoke half an hour later to the smell of bacon frying. She wasn't sure why she was disappointed to find herself alone. She was about to lean over the side of the bed for her crutches when Mike came into the bedroom. "Are you hungry?" He asked as he walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Where . . . are my . . . crutches?"
"You won't need them today because you're going to be with me. Now, are you hungry? I've made bacon, eggs, toast, and orange juice. Do you want to eat in the kitchen or would you like breakfast in bed?" He teased.
"No, I'll . . . get up."
"If you want to take a shower, I'll help you into the bathroom and help you get dressed when you're done," he offered as she violently shook his head. "Jill, it's okay. I think that I can control myself."
"Too . . . fast," she insisted.
"What're you talking about? What's too fast?"
"You . . . and . . . me."
"Listen," he took her hand. "Helping you take a shower doesn't mean that I'm going to carry you back in here and make mad passionate love to you afterwards. I'm following your lead just like I did before."
"I'm so . . . confused! What if . . . what if . . . if . . . he finds . . . me?"
He sighed. She hadn't worried about Cleve showing up in several days. He'd hoped against hope that she'd forgotten the whole silly notion of his suddenly showing up and hurting her. Apparently he'd been wrong. "We're going to talk about Cleve later. Remember when we talked about things that you weren't ready to handle?" He reminded her as she nodded. "I think that you can handle some of those things now. We'll talk tonight. Come on, I'll help you with your shower and then we can eat. We have a long day ahead of us."
She managed to let Mike help her shower with a minimum of embarrassment. She knew that he'd seen her naked many times in the past. After all, they were supposedly married, weren't they? After helping her dress, he led her to the kitchen where they both sat down to eat. He was pleased to see that she was at least using her weaker right hand this morning. He really wasn't in the mood to clean up broken dishes. But after a while, he noticed that her hand started trembling badly, causing the fork to shake. She dropped her fork to her plate and looked at Mike. "I . . . can't . . . do this," she said as her voice started shaking.
"It's okay. Take a break and pick your fork up in a few minutes. Why don't you eat some toast or bacon instead?" He suggested.
"Not . . . hungry," she sighed as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.
"Come on, baby. You have to eat something," he encouraged her as he put his hand over her left hand. "Just take your time. We're not in any hurry."
She took a deep breath as she once again picked up her fork and took a few more bites before putting her fork down for good. "Enough," she pushed her plate away.
"Okay," he got up and began to clear the table. "So what do you want to do first this morning?"
"Horseback . . . riding."
"That sounds good to me. Do you think that you can handle Dusty?" He asked as he began to wash dishes.
"Yeah. Can we . . . ride out . . . to the . . . tree?"
"Sure. I'll pack some fruit and something to drink to take with us. Can I ask you a question?" He asked as she nodded. "What's so special about that tree?"
"I . . . don't . . . know. Don't you . . . think . . . it's pretty?"
"I guess so, as far as trees go."
After cleaning the kitchen, he found a picnic basket and filled it with different kinds of fruit and before filling a thermos of iced tea. They then went out into the stable where he saddled up two of the horses before helping Jill onto Dusty's back. They then set out for the foothills, Mike in front leading Dusty by the reins. Jill's legs and hands were shaking by the time they reached the tree. She almost fell to the ground when he helped her from the horse and set her on the ground. "Can we . . . sit?" She begged as she clutched desperately at his shirt.
"Hold onto Dusty for just a minute while I spread a blanket out," he told her as he placed her hands onto the horses' bridle for support. After spreading a plaid blanket on the soft grass, he helped her walk over and sit down. "It's nice out here," he smiled as he looked around.
"Don't you . . . think . . . its . . . strange . . . that this . . . tree . . . is by . . . itself . . . in the . . . middle . . . of nowhere?"
"Not really. Maybe it's special to Lt. Ryker. You can ask him about it the next time he comes out."
"Mike?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you . . . going to . . . stay . . . tonight?"
"In your room?" He clarified as she nodded. "Do you want me to stay?"
"What if . . . something . . . happens?"
"Like I told you this morning, I'm following your lead. If you just want to sleep, then that's what we'll do. If you want something further, then we'll see what happens."
"I'm . . . nervous."
"I know. Believe it or not, so am I."
"I want . . . to know . . . what happened."
"You want to know how you got hurt? A delivery truck hit the bus that you were riding on. The driver was drunk. He's scheduled to go on trial pretty soon." He knew that he'd told her more than once about the accident, but her memory problems wouldn't allow her to process it.
"Did . . . anybody . . . die?"
"Yeah, several people died. A lot more people got hurt. At first I wasn't sure if you were going to live or die. I was scared that I was going to lose you. I didn't like that feeling."
"You've . . . had that . . . feeling . . . before?"
"Once before. I didn't like it that time, either. Willie was the one who found you under a bunch of collapsed seats. He said that he thought that you were dead."
She sat across from him, deep in thought as she absorbed what he'd just told her. She hated not being able to remember. She looked down at the third finger of his left hand at his wedding ring and tried to remember what her own wedding ring looked like. Did her ring match his? Did she have an engagement ring? If so, did she still wear it? Her mind was such a whirl of confusion. "I want . . . to go to . . . sleep . . . one night . . . and . . . wake up . . . remembering . . . everything. Does . . . that only . . . happen in . . . movies?" She asked as she reached for his hand.
He was surprised when she reached for his hand. It was rare that she willingly reached out to him on her own. "I asked Dr. Conti about that. He said that nobody knows. He said that some people do get their memories back like they do in the movies. He said that others never remember anything and that some people are somewhere in the middle."
"Does my . . . ring . . . look like . . . yours?" She traced the gold band with her fingertips.
"It's thinner, but it was part of a matched set. Jill, do you want your rings back?" He asked, taking her left hand in his as he felt his heart soar.
"You . . . have . . . them?"
"They're at the house. I was really hoping that you'd finally ask me for them," he smiled as he drew her close and kissed her.
The feel of his lips against hers was a strange sensation, but Jill decided after a few seconds that she liked the sensation. She pulled him closer as she returned the kiss. Her heart was pounding in her chest when she finally pulled away from him. "I . . . can't breathe," she moved away, feeling flushed and breathless.
"The first movie that we ever saw together was 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,'" he remembered as he sat back against the trunk of the tree as he continued to hold her. "You had this 'thing' for Paul Newman. We saw that movie four times."
"Was that . . . our . . . first . . . make-out . . . movie?" She asked as she blushed.
"Yeah, that was our first make-out movie," he brushed her hair off of her shoulders. "Do you remember?"
She watched him, trying to think. She could vaguely see Paul Newman and Robert Redford, but the details were fuzzy. It would make sense that they'd make out since that's what most dating couples did at the movies. She tried to remember other things, but nothing made any sense. "I wasn't . . . afraid . . . of you?"
"A little, but you didn't like me at first. You thought that I wanted to know too much about you. You beat me at pool one time. Do you remember that?"
"No. Are you . . . going to . . . tell me . . . about Cleve?"
"Are you sure that you're ready to hear it?" She nodded against his shoulder. "Five months ago he showed up. I had to go out of town and he somehow managed to ingratiate himself back into your life. We didn't know until later was he had been in a mental institution. He took you out to this house in the country. Jill, he was going to kill you."
She had a flash of lights and foggy trees. Like with her other flashes, nothing made the least bit of sense. "How did . . . you . . . find me?"
"He was getting ready to shoot you in the back of the head when Lt. Ryker and I arrived on the scene. He pulled a gun on us, so Lt. Ryker was forced to shoot and kill him."
"He's . . . really . . . dead?" She was still afraid to believe it.
"He's really dead, Jill," he confirmed. "He can't hurt you anymore. I can bring you a copy of the newspaper article if you want me to."
"Were . . . Willie and . . . Terry there?" She looked at him as he nodded. "I see . . . them . . . in flashes."
He held her close as she started to sob. "Baby, it's okay," he held her close to him as she cried. "Don't cry."
"How'd . . . you find . . . me?" She repeated.
"It's a long story. Willie and Terry put two and two together and found the house that he'd bought. They were pissed off for a long time. In fact, until you had the accident, they were still pissed off."
"Why?"
"The only people who know about your past with Cleve are me and Trap. You're adamant about them not knowing. The morning that I left, I asked them to look out for you, but I didn't tell them why."
"I told . . . you . . . about him?" She asked as she began crying harder.
He didn't say anything as he continued holding her. She'd had much the same reaction when she'd originally told him about the abuse that she'd suffered at her so-called boyfriends' hands. Neither of them spoke for several minutes which led him to think that maybe she'd fallen asleep. "Are you asleep?" He whispered into her hair.
"Yes," she teased as she cuddled closer to him.
"Are you hungry or thirsty? I brought some fruit and iced tea."
"No. I'm . . . good," she wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself even tighter into him, reminding him more than ever of the old Jill, who loved nothing more than to cuddle as close as she could get to Mike.
He'd sorely missed holding her in his arms as he was doing now. He sat there quietly, watching the horses graze in the grass nearby. He had to agree with Jill. This tree was wonderful. He could see why she enjoyed it so much the day before. He closed his eyes, intending to just rest his eyes. He didn't even realize that he'd fallen asleep until he woke up to find Jill watching him, her dark brown eyes burning through him. "I fell asleep," he smiled as he rubbed his eyes. He instantly saw her stiffen up as if she'd just been slapped. "What's wrong?"
"I . . . don't . . . know," she said as another flash went through her mind. She knew that she'd heard Mike say that exact same thing before in another context. The remembrance sent a shiver of fear through her.
"Let's go back to the house. I'm supposed to get you into the pool this afternoon," he got up and helped her to her feet and back onto her horse.
That evening, she was sitting in the living room reading, with her feet propped up as Mike cleaned up the dinner dishes. She looked up when he came into the room and knelt down beside her chair as he took her left hand. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong," he smiled as he slipped her rings back onto her finger. "I thought that you might like to have these back."
"Thank you," she breathed as she kissed him as she held her hand out to admire her wedding and engagement rings. As he'd told her, her wedding ring was a thinner version of his own ring, while her engagement ring had a small diamond in the center of it.
"I'm sorry that it wasn't a bigger diamond, but I was a soldier, not Richard Burton," he grinned.
"I don't . . . care. They're . . . beautiful . . . rings," she kissed him again.
Later that night, they were lying in bed listening to the night sounds outside of the window. Occasionally, they heard Domino barking in the distance. "Are there . . . wild . . . animals . . . out there?" She asked as she heard the dog bark again.
"There might be coyotes and maybe an occasional mountain lion. Nothing major," he murmured sleepily as he felt her sit up.
"Mike, they . . . could . . . eat . . . Domino!"
"Jill, they don't come down this far. Domino's fine," he pulled her back down to his side.
As she tried to relax at his side, she started examining her wrist. Although she couldn't see the thin white scar, she knew that it was there. She still couldn't remember how she'd gotten the scar, but the scar wasn't what she was thinking of at the moment. She felt as if something else was missing, but she wasn't sure of what that something was.
She closed her eyes and forced herself to remember. Jewelry. Before Mike had begun to insist that they were married, the only piece of jewelry that Jill ever wore was a pinky ring that had been given to her by one of her aunts. Living in the house with Cleve, she'd never worn a watch. In that house, it never mattered what time it was or even what day of the week it was. Time in the house passed without notice.
Mike lay beside Jill, wide awake since the comment about the wild animals. He glanced over at her, wondering what she was thinking about. It was difficult to lie beside her and not touch her in an intimate way as he was used to doing. But she'd asked him to stay with her and he'd never had the heart to deny her anything. It had always been that way and probably always would be. He found himself wondering about the flashes that she was not getting on a regular basis. One of them had obviously upset her judging by her reaction that afternoon. He didn't even remember what he'd said; only that it had disturbed her. "What're you thinking about?" He asked, breaking the silence in the darkened bedroom.
"I feel . . . like . . . I'm missing . . . something," she continued examining her wrist.
He didn't say anything, but he smiled victoriously to himself in the darkness. Her bracelet. The first thing that he'd ever given her in his life and probably the most special thing that she owned. He remembered how heartbroken she'd become when she'd accidentally broken the clasp on it several months before. She'd told him once that the bracelet meant more to her than her engagement ring because it was the first thing Mike had ever given her. She turned to face him as he got out of bed. "I'll be right back," he vowed as he left the room, returning moments later dangling her bracelet from his fingers. "Could this be what you're missing?"
"I don't . . . know," she admitted. "I just . . . know . . . that I'm . . . missing . . . something."
"I gave this to you our very first Christmas together," he slipped the bracelet around her right wrist and closed the clasp. "There was a somewhat corny speech that went with it, but I won't repeat that just now. This bracelet was how Willie knew that it was you on that bus."
"Mike . . . I'm really . . . trying to . . . remember," her eyes sparkled with tears.
"I know that. And you're getting better. Let's get some sleep. It's back to work for both of us tomorrow, so we both need our rest. Goodnight," he kissed her on the forehead before getting back under the covers.
She continued to lay awake, thinking back over her day with Mike. She wondered if they'd had days like that back in the early days of their relationship. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent such a nice day with anyone. She smiled as she lightly touched the rings she was now wearing on her left hand. During her life with Cleve, she'd always tried to think of what she could've possibly done in a previous life to make him treat her the way that he did. Back then, she'd dreaded the night time. Night time meant being in a locked room alone with Cleve, who wouldn't take no for an answer. Night time meant Jill crying and begging him to please stop hurting her down there. Somehow she knew that those night times with Mike would be different. He'd already shown his gentleness toward her in so many ways. She wondered if maybe she'd finally feel what Scarlett O'Hara felt the night that Rhett Butler had swept her off of her feet and carried her up that huge staircase.
***MJMJMJ***
The next afternoon, Mike had to stop on his way home to see the district attorney. He walked up to his door and knocked. He heard someone inside bid him to come in. "Mr. Danko, please come in," the D.A. waved Mike inside as he closed the door behind him. "How is your wife?"
"She's improving slowly, but surely," he answered as he sat down. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I understand that you want her to testify."
"That's right. I want to get as many of the survivors on the stand as I possibly can. I want the jury to see firsthand the damage that Mr. Cummings caused."
"Mr. Brooks, Jill has absolutely no memory of that day. Everything she knows about the accident is from what I've told her."
"Could you testify?"
"Me?"
"Tell the jury about her struggles to recover from her injuries. What she goes through on an everyday basis. Can you testify? I mean, there isn't going to be a conflict of interest, is there?"
"No, I wasn't assigned to the case, if that's what you mean. I'll gladly let the world know exactly what Jill is going through."
"The trial is scheduled to start in two weeks. I'll let you know when I need you to testify."
"That's it?"
"Yes, thanks for stopping by."
Driving back to the house, Mike wondered about the upcoming trial. He had to convince the jury that Albert Cummings needed to go to prison for a very long time.
A/N: The next chapter is going to be an original story that I'm going to include to once again bridge the gap between this chapter and the following chapter where everything will finally come together for our favorite couple.