Mind of Her Own Read Free

sandy beach. Piccolo notes from seagulls called to her as they landed in an uneven line onshore. They hunted for forgotten corn curls and abandoned sandwich crusts, their tiny claws etching the sand behind them. A flash of white danced into her view. She glanced at the gauzy skirt grazing her ankles and wondered when she’d changed clothes. Then she noticed her hand held a bundle of calla lilies tied with a dark-green satin ribbon that trailed to her knees.
    Next to her, the ocean increased its crescendo. Froth swirled around her bare feet, and the small white bubbles tickled her toes. Like a child, she wove up and down the shore, playing a game of tag with the swash marks on the sandy shoreline. She slowed her steps as a man ahead of her grew larger and larger until she finally stood next to him. He didn’t have a name, but she knew she would marry him this day. Her lips began to form the words “I do” when a voice crashed her wedding.
    “Come on, baby, wake up.” Warm fingers brushed across her cheek. Startled, she tried to open her eyelids, but they felt weighted as if someone had stacked pennies on them. Peeking through her lashes, she discovered a pair of chocolate-brown eyes gazing into hers. And not the milk-chocolate kind but the dark, eat-me-now-and-I’ll-solve-your-problems kind. She tried to sit, but the onslaught of pain in her head stilled her like Atlanta traffic in a snow shower. Bright light lit the room around her, but it wasn’t a room she knew.
    “Louisa, baby. You gave me quite a scare. How do you feel?” His hand trembled as it gently swept across her forehead.
    “I’m Jazz.” Her words oozed like cold honey past her thickened tongue. She was desperate for information and a cool drink of water. “Wrong woman. Where am I?”
    His hand dropped to his side, and he stepped back from her. “Dr. Harrison?” His weight shifted from one foot to the other.
    The man she assumed to be the doctor maneuvered past Mystery Man. From his pocket, he pulled out a penlight and shone it into her eyes.
    “Evil man. That’s a bit torturous to my brain.” She swatted at his hand but pulled back before making contact, realizing his purpose was to help, not hurt her.
    “You’re in the ER. You suffered a nasty bump on the head, Louisa. You have a concussion, which is making your head hurt.” He clicked off the light and placed it back into the pocket of his lab coat. “Your scan came back clean. There is no bleeding in your brain. I’ll have the nurse come in and unhook the heart monitor in a minute. You can go home with your husband in a little while.”
    “Husband?” The monitor showed a jump in her heart rate. “Please, I’m not who you think I am.” She wished for them both to dissolve from her sight and for someone, anyone, even a disgruntled fan, to appear in their place. Something like wind seemed to roar in her ears, and she struggled to catch her breath.
    “Just calm down. Take a few breaths.” Dr. Harrison patted her hand.
    The old, reliable remedy—take in oxygen and the world’s problems will be solved. Somehow that made her feel normal. She could go home soon, or at least Louisa could. She closed her eyes, willing the two of them to go away.
    “Open your eyes, Louisa,” the doctor ordered.
    Still not willing to play their game, she compromised and opened one. “Light hurts. I’m not Louisa.”
    “You’re just a bit confused right now. Your name is Louisa, Louisa Copeland. The bang on your head gave you quite a headache, didn’t it?” The doctor patted her arm as if doing that would change her identity. “This is all to be expected, just a bit of disorientation. Don’t worry. Once the swelling goes down, you should remember everything.”
    Respect for his position kept her from saying that maybe he needed to switch places with her. After all, she knew she was Jazz Sweet.
    The doctor turned his back to her. “Collin, I think you need to take her home. Once she’s home in