The Cowboy's Courtship by Brenda Minton

tour.”
    “You can’t.” Beth shook her head. “Jason, you can’t be thinking about it, can you?”
    “I don’t know. What else can I do, Beth? I’m a bull rider.”
    “You’re a bull rider who suffered a serious head injury. You could get hurt worse. You could…”
    Jason hugged her. “I know what could happen. I’ve talked to the sports medicine team. I’ve talked to the neurologist. My short-term memory is damaged, Beth. I know all that. But I also know that I can’t throw it all away without trying to fight back.”
    “Why do you need this so much?” Beth glanced over her shoulder at a car coming up the drive. “Seriously, Jason, you have your ranch. You have this community.”
    Jason couldn’t give her the answer she wanted.
    All his friends were settling down, having families and building lives. And he couldn’t remember going to the store for his sister.
    A car pulled up the drive and parked. Etta’s car. He couldn’t remember the name of the woman getting out of the passenger’s side. But he knew her.
    “Is that the reason you had to go to Etta’s this morning?”
    He had no trouble remembering his sister, standing there staring at him, a smirk of a smile on her face. He pulled the paper out of his pocket and glanced over it, at the note telling him to go to the feed store and at the bottom of the page, the name Alyson.
    “Yeah, I think so. That’s Alyson. She’s Etta’s granddaughter.”
    “Some things haven’t changed. You can still remember a woman’s name.” She watched Etta and her granddaughter. “But since she’s with Etta, I think you should be careful. Break her heart and Etta will break your neck.”
    “You think?”
    “I’m pretty sure of it. Did you know that someone bought the old church on Back Street?”
    “I guess I didn’t know that.”
    The church they had attended with their mother. It had been closed down for years. People had left the small country church behind, looking for more. If he closed his eyes, he could remember in detail the inside of that old building. He could remember how it felt to sit next to his mom and sing “In the Garden.”
    The fact that church interested his sister was more of a surprise than the fact that someone had bought thebuilding. Their father had jerked her out of church about ten years ago and she hadn’t been back. Now he thought she stayed away because of the recent past, not the distant.
    “The sign in front of it says Sold.” She looked up at him, and then glanced back at Etta. “She looks like Andie.”
    “She’s Andie’s sister. I think they might be twins.” He glanced down and smiled. “How’s that for short-term?”
    “Good. When did Etta get home?”
    “I didn’t say the memory was perfect.” He pointed to his head. “Remember, head injury.”
    “You need a keeper.”
    “I’m starting to realize that.” He definitely needed someone to keep him on track until his memory returned to normal. If it ever did. He paused at that thought. Not long enough to let it get to him. He was an expert at not letting things get to him. “Are you here to work?”
    “You know I’m not. Jas, do you want me to drive you home?”
    “Why would I need that?”
    “You look pale and you’re limping.”
    “I’m good.”
    “Yeah, you’re always good.” She hugged him. “I’m heading home. Call if you need me.”
    She took the paper from his hand and wrote on it. “In case you forget.”
    “I won’t forget.”
    As she walked away, he turned back to Etta and Alyson. Something had changed. He studied the woman in worn jeans, a T-shirt and flip-flops. He didn’t remember her being like that. He remembered cashmere. And pink.
     
    Of course Alyson’s grandmother led her directly to Jason Bradshaw. In the few hours the two had spent together, Alyson had learned that her grandmother did her own thing.
    On the way to Grove, they had talked about how a younger Etta had backpacked across Europe, lived in a commune