Jennifer flopped back on the bed drained after a long day of interviews. She checked her watch, eagerly waiting for Jonathan’s scheduled call.

"Allo?" Jennifer asked when the phone rang.

"How is that gorgeous wife of mine?" Jonathan asked.

"Oh Darling, it is so good to hear your voice," Jennifer cooed as Jonathan’s voice re-ignited her energy.

"How are things in France?"

"It’s going well. I have two more interviews tomorrow. Madam Chappelle has been a great help. It is amazing that she has been able to continue running the winery with all the opposition."

"What opposition?" Jonathan asked. He always enjoyed hearing about Jennifer’s journalistic adventures.

"Well the winery has been in the family for many generations. She married Lawrence Chappelle only last spring. He died suddenly and as the heir she has taken it over. However, in the past the winery always went to a male heir so Madam Chappelle has had to hold her ground. The relatives feel that Lawrence’s cousin, Jacque, should run the winery. The thing is Lawrence Chappelle didn't designate anyone in his will. So for now, Madame Chappelle has the winery. It is hard enough to be a woman in business in France but, when there are people out to get you....well that makes it harder."

"I love strong women."

"Is there anyone I should know about?" Jennifer teased, "So how are you darling? Has your business gone well?"

"Yes, in fact tomorrow I finish up and I was thinking I might join you after all."

"Oh, Darling that would be wonderful. What about Max?"

"Well, I thought Max could stay here. It has been a long time since we’ve had time together just us too. He’ll be fine."

"I guess you are right," Jennifer said, her thoughts filtering back to a day several years earlier when in France Jonathan had taken her on a picnic in a secluded place where they ended up making love all afternoon.

"Will you be done by Friday?" Jonathan asked.

"I will be done with the research. I can put off the writing for a day or two or three."

"I love you," Jonathan said grinning in the phone, "I will be there Friday evening. I will meet you at your hotel."

"I love you too Darling. Give Max a hug for me."

Jonathan and Jennifer hung up the phone. Jonathan looked over at the kitchen dining table where Max was writing. He smiled as his heart filled with joy at looking at the beautiful auburn haired boy. He thought back to the time when the idea of the boy first came to be. He and Jennifer had never talked about whether or not to have children. If it happened, they would be thrilled but they never set out specifically to start a family. Life had always been so perfect. Their love remained strong, passionate and exciting. Why mess with a good thing?

But when Max, Jonathan and Jennifer’s friend and butler became ill, Jennifer over heard a conversation between Jonathan and Max. Max was home from the hospital but the prognosis was grim. All they could do now was keep him as comfortable as possible.

"Ya know Mr. H.....Jonathan," Max began, his once grizzled voice now soft, "I have always loved you like a son."

"Max, I know. Me too," Jonathan stated trying to be strong.

"You are my legacy."

Jonathan looked at Max thoughtfully, touched at his statement.

"I don’t have children of my own. And while I did some good things in my life, you are definitely the best thing I ever did. You are the best of me .... I will live on because of you."

Jonathan’s eyes welled with tears. He couldn’t figure out what to say so he took Max’s hand.

It was several months after Max’s death, when Jonathan and Jennifer decided to get away for the weekend. Actually, Jennifer had planned it for a month. She wanted everything to be perfect. They decided to stay at their auberge in Napa Valley. They had bought it at an auction for a particular piece of furniture: their honeymoon bed. Unfortunately, as an heirloom of France, the bed was returned to Versailles. They loved the area so they decided to keep the inn.

They arrived in the evening. Choosing a room with a fireplace they sat quietly in front of the fire.

"Jonathan?" Jennifer finally asked.

"Yes darling."

"Do you remember before Max died, a conversation he had with you about your being his legacy?"

"I do," Jonathan said not realizing Jennifer had known about his talk.

"Do you ever wonder about your legacy?"

"I never thought about it," Jonathan said beginning to ponder his legacy after he was gone. "It’s not like I haven’t made lots of contributions to society."

"Yes, you have made a difference in many people’s lives," Jennifer agreed. "But I was thinking more of a living legacy. Max lives on in you. Who will carry your spirit when ..." Jennifer’s voice trailed off not wanting to talk about Jonathan’s demise.

Jonathan sat silent for a moment, taking in Jennifer’s words. He looked into her eyes. The hues from the fire danced in her eyes. She looked beautiful...as beautiful as the day he met her.

"Are you talking about children?" he finally asked.

"Well, I don’t know about children but, one child maybe."

"We have never talked about this before. I didn’t know that was something you wanted."

"I want for nothing but a life with you," she asserted looking directly into Jonathan’s eyes. "There was just something about what Max said. You are a great man Jonathan. It would be wonderful if that greatness could always live on just as Max does in you." They sat quiet for minute.

"Things would change," he said.

"Yes they would," she agreed. But, both realized that anything they did together would always strengthen their marriage. Certainly nothing could represent the their love and devotion for each other more than a child.

Jonathan reached up and outlined Jennifer’s face with his finger. Placing his hand on her cheek he pulled her close placing his lips on hers. Tears came to Jennifer’s eyes. She was overwhelmed by the feelings of love and awe at what she knew they were about to do. She felt the heady sensation of Jonathan’s lips against her neck. Unbuttoning Jennifer’s blouse, Jonathan pulled her blouse open, caressing her chest with his lips. Jennifer ran her fingers through his hair. Already she was hoping this child had his thick soft hair. Pushing her blouse off her shoulders, Jonathan kissed her shoulders and her neck. Reaching behind her, Jonathan unfastened her bra. As he removed it, he sat back admiring her supple but firm breasts. Laying her back on the pillows they had arranged on the floor in front of the fire, he caressed her sensitive, swollen breasts suckling and playing with each. He had a special way that always sent shivers through her body. Jennifer reached down to pull Jonathan’s shirt off. He sat up to help her. She watched his muscles ripple and flex as he pulled the shirt over his head. Before it was off, she sat up to kiss his chest. He held her head, savoring the feel of her mouth and tongue on his chest. Pulling her head up, he placed his mouth on hers and delved deep with his tongue. Gently he eased her down again and undid her pants, helping her take them off. Jennifer did the same for Jonathan. He caressed and kissed her entire body, stopping in certain areas he new were especially arousing for her.

"Jonathan, please," she moaned as currents of desire shot through her. Perhaps it was the prospect of creating life, but for both of them the feel of each other had a heightened sensuality about it.

Jonathan did, as his wife desired. He eased himself top of her maneuvering himself to enter her. Jennifer grabbed at his arms in desperation. Jonathan smiled. He loved to please her. Slowly he began to push himself into her. Immediately, Jennifer’s muscles tightened and engulfed him. The sensation sent fire throughout Jonathan’s body. Unable to contain himself, Jonathan moved forcefully into Jennifer, her body arching towards him in complete acceptance. She grabbed his buttocks helping him move deeper into her soul. Waves of gratification echoed through Jennifer’s body as Jonathan erupted in her. They lay in each other’s arms, still kissing and caressing each other in pure love.

It came as a complete shock, when Jennifer wasn’t pregnant that month. But, it only took one more try to succeed. Jennifer was gorgeous and radiant throughout her pregnancy. And when the healthy baby boy was delivered into the world nine months later, there was no question about what to name him: Maxwell Edwards Hart.

That was four years ago. Adjustments had been made. Max's presence required that they put much more creativity and planning into their romantic life. They both found the challenge arousing.

Jonathan and Jennifer knew that their lives had only been enriched with Max’s arrival. Whenever Jonathan was required to travel, he took the whole family. As a couple Jonathan and Jennifer knew every romantic haunt in the world. As a family, they knew all the museums, parks, amusement parks, and toy stores.

Jennifer wrote at home. With Max as her inspiration she wrote frequently for parent and family oriented magazines. She wrote several children's stories but never submitted them for publishing. "They’re for Max," she would smile. Once or twice a year she would indulge in a travel piece or some other investigative report that would require time away from home. Usually, the whole family would go. This time however, important business at Hart Industries prevented Jonathan from attending.

"Hey, champ, whatcha making?" Jonathan asked sitting down next to Max.

"A picture for mommy," he said holding up the paper.

"That's great. She is going to love it."

"Yep."

"Max, how would you feel if Ruthie stayed with you a few days while daddy goes to pick up mommy?"

Ruthie was slowly becoming a part of the Hart family. After Max Sr. died, Jonathan and Jennifer couldn't bear to have anyone else around to help out. But when little Max was born, they realized that they didn't want to waste precious time cleaning and cooking when they could be him. They had known Ruthie before, as she had been a friend of Max Sr's. At first, Ruthie would come for a few days per week to clean. As time went on Jonathan and Jennifer invited her live-in. Ruthie loved the Harts and felt like a grandmother to Max.

"Can I come too?"

"Well, no I was just going to go. You are going to stay with Ruthie. Remember last year when you stayed here with her while mommy and daddy went away?"

"She took me to the zoo," Max said large brown eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yes."

"Can we go to the zoo again?"

"Sure, champ."

"Oh goodie." Max said clapping his hands. "Can you take this to mommy. Its a lion." He handed the picture to Jonathan.

"I sure will."

"Ruthie?" Max called running out of the room, "We are going to the zoo."

Jennifer arrived at Vineyard Chappelle mid-morning to finish up her interview with Madam Chappelle. Afterwards, she was scheduled to drive north of town to visit the home of Jacques Chappelle to get his side of the story.

It had been a gorgeous drive to the vineyard though the road was a bit treacherous at times with sharp turns and narrow bends. Jennifer tried to concentrate on the road but images of her upcoming reunion with Jonathan permeated her thoughts.

"Oui, Je m'appelle Jennifer Hart. Je suis ici pour visiter Madam Chappelle," Jennifer told the butler who answered the door.

"Oui, Madam. Entrez-vous," the butler said escorting her to an office. "Restez ici, s'il vous plait."

Jennifer waited in the office admiring the French works of art decorating the room. As she neared a side door, she could hear arguing in French.

"I don't know what you are so worried about. Things couldn't be better," Jennifer heard.

"Is it wise though to be interviewed for a magazine. You should keep a low profile," said a man. Jennifer was intrigued.

"The article will only help things. Mrs. Hart is well respected. Her story will give my being here credibility and will generate sympathy in the public." Jennifer smiled. She was pleased that she was considered "respected".

"But you know she is going to speak with Jacques. He will say things..."

"Let him say whatever. He has no proof of anything," the lady spat.

"Reporters are nosy. She may want to look into what he says," warned the man.

"There is nothing to find. We covered our tracks. No one will ever think that Lawrence's death was anything but an accident." At that, Jennifer’s hackles raised. She quickly moved away from the door, deciding that leaving would be the best thing. She headed to the door from which she had entered the room.

"Mrs. Hart?" Madam Chappelle said entering the room from the door Jennifer had been eavesdropping. "Are you leaving?" Madam Chappelle was a striking woman with blond hair and gray eyes. She had sharp facial features, which were accentuated by her stark blue suit.

"Leaving? Ah...no. I was just waiting to finish our interview."

"Yes, well please be seated."

"Yes,...fine....thank you," Jennifer's mind raced. She wanted to leave and fast. She quickly read throughout the questions she had prepared for the day and selected just a few. Within 15 minutes, Jennifer reported that she was finished.

Stunned, Madam Chappelle said, "That is all? I blocked off through lunch."

"You were so kind and gave me so much material yesterday that I really didn't need much time today."

"I see," Madam Chappelle said sensing Jennifer's uneasiness. "Well thank you for coming. Please let me know when I might see a draft of the article."

"Oh, yes definitely." Jennifer rose to leave. Shaking Madam Chappelle's hand she left the room.

Jennifer got in her car and headed out the winery gate as fast as she could.

"Do you think she heard something?" Luc asked. He had been the man whom Jennifer overheard.

"I don't know," Madam Chappelle said. "She did seem agitated though"

"If she did overhear anything, she will likely expose us. Jacques will tell her what he thinks and she may believe him enough to investigate it."

Madam Chappelle sighed, "Well, I can't really wait around to find out. Go take care of Mrs. Hart. Just in case."

"Oui Madam," Luc said kissing her hand and leaving the room.

Jennifer wished the road were wider and straighter. It was taking too long to get back to town. She glanced in her rear view mirror catching site of a car moving up on her at a pretty good clip. Her heart began to race as panic seized her. The car was moving at speeds that Jennifer didn't feel comfortable trying to out run. She firmly grasped the steering wheel with both hands. The car cruised up behind her and without hesitation ran into her. The force jolted Jennifer forward, her car swerved but she was able to keep in on the road. Again the car rammed her and again she maintained control. Jennifer searched rural deserted road for any sign of help. Looking in the rear view mirror it seemed the car had disappeared. It was then she saw the car pull-up along side her. Jennifer tightened her grip as the other car swerved and rammed hers from the side. Her car jolted to the side. Catching the shoulder of the road her car jerked sideways. Jennifer could feel the car rolling and then nothing.

"Can you please show me to Jennifer Hart's room," Jonathan asked the hotel desk clerk. "I am Jonathan Hart."

"Ah... oui Monsieur Hart," the man said glancing over to a man sitting in the beau parlor. Jonathan followed his glance.

"Monsieur Hart?" the man in the chair said rising to meet him.

"Yes," Jonathan said starting to feel concerned.

"I am inspector Marché."

"Yes?"

"I am here in regards to your wife."

"Jennifer? What's wrong? Where is she?"

"I will take you too her. She had an accident yesterday."

"Accident? Yesterday? Why didn't anyone call?"

"It took us some time to figure out who she was. We did call but we were told you were coming so I came here to meet you."

"Is she alright? Where is she?"

"Come on and I will take you to her now," the inspector said leading Jonathan out of the building.

"What kind of accident?" Jonathan asked once in the car.

"She was in a car accident."

"Car? Jennifer is a pretty good driver," Jonathan said mostly to himself.

"Yes, well, I was wondering if your wife ever mentioned any concerns she had while staying here?"

"No, she didn't say anything. Why? Do you think this wasn't an accident?"

"No I don't think it was. For miles back from the crash site there are skid marks from two cars..."

"Someone drove her off the road? But, why?"

"Well, that is what I want to find out."

"What does Jennifer say?" Jonathan asked.

"She doesn't know."

"She doesn't know if she was driven off the road?"

"No."

"That's kind of odd don't you think?" Jonathan said.

"Well, she had a pretty good hit in the head and seemed confused. When she came to last night, we began interviewing her, in French. She speaks beautiful French," the inspector said, "It wasn't until we found her passport that we realized she was American."

They pulled up to the hospital.

"The doctors will be able to tell you more. Ask for Dr. Suché. In the meantime, if you find anything or she remembers anything, please give me a call." The inspector handed Jonathan his card and let him out.

Jonathan entered the hospital frantic to find Jennifer.

"Where is Jennifer Hart?" he asked the woman at the front desk.

"Are you family?"

"Yes, yes, now where is she."

The nursed picked up the phone, speaking in it briefly she turned back to Jonathan. "Dr. Suché will be right with you."

"Monsieur Hart," Dr. Suché said extending his hand.

"Where is my wife?" Jonathan said boiling over with frustration.

"Yes, I will take you right to her but, I must first explain her condition to you."

"You can tell me on the way."

"Monsieur Hart, your wife is physically fine except for a few contusions. Unfortunately she suffered a pretty severe concussion and has no recollection of....well...anything?"

"Anything?"

"Non. She didn't remember her name, where she was, what she does, anything."

"Surely she would remember me," Jonathan asked incredulously.

"Well, monsieur Hart, memories don't always have ties to the heart."

"I want to see her."

"Yes, I will take you. I just want to warn you that she may not know who you are. And for now I think, if she doesn't remember you, that you shouldn’t tell her anything."

"Why?"

"For us to make a prognosis on her recovery, we need to be able to know if she is starting to have recall. If you start telling her factual information about her life, it will be hard for us to determine if she has actual memory or just knowledge of facts. It is just for the next day or two."

"Are you saying that her memory may never be restored?" Jonathan asked in disbelief.

"It’s a possibility. We are doing everything we can though." Jonathan was stunned. A lifetime of happiness wiped away. Dr. Suché escorted Jonathan to Jennifer's room.

Jonathan entered the room. He breathed a sigh of relief that her physical injuries didn't look bad. She had a few scrapes and bruises but no large cuts. Jennifer stirred and opened her eyes. Jonathan smiled the one he knew Jennifer found irresistible. Jennifer smiled back.

"You are the most handsome doctor yet," she said in French. Jonathan's heart sank.

"I speak English," he replied.

"An American doctor. Now that is great service."

"How are you feeling?" he asked slowing taking in the ramifications of his wife’s memory loss.

"Sore. And I hate that I can't remember anything. It is so frustrating."

"Yes," Jonathan agreed. Doctor Suché entered the room.

"Now I have two handsome doctors to take care of me," Jennifer said flirtatiously. Jonathan was surprised, not so much that Jennifer was flirtatious. After all he had been the benefactor of so much of her playfulness. No it was the fact that it was directed at another man.

Dr. Suché smiled, "Doctor, eh?" he said looking at Jonathan. Jonathan shrugged. Dr. Suché was secretly pleased at Jennifer’s lack of recollection of Jonathan. Despite her injuries, Dr. Suché recognized Jennifer’s exquisite beauty. Her ability to speak perfect French furthered his attraction to her. She was obviously a woman of substance.

"Actually, Mademoiselle Jennifer, this is Jonathan Hart. He is an American like you and will be around to help you if need be." Dr. Suché said. He was aware that he wouldn’t be able to prevent Jonathan from visiting. He just had to keep Jennifer from remembering Jonathan.

"Oh, okay," Jennifer agreed.

"Mr. Hart," Dr. Suché started, "Mr. Dubois is outside to speak with you."

Jonathan stepped out side Jennifer’s room.

"Mr. Hart, I am Mr. Dubois, the hospital social worker."

"Social worker?"

"Yes, hospital’s have social workers to provide resources and counseling."

"For a small hospital in France, you all speak good English."

"Yes, Mr. Hart. Every one in France learns to speak English," he explained. "Please come to my office. I would like to speak with you about Jennifer." They went to the office.

"I have met with Jennifer to help her cope with her amnesia," Mr. Dubois said when they had sat down.

"I get the impression that you all think this amnesia is a permanent thing," Jonathan said fearful of the answer.

"Well, I am not a medical doctor. It is my job to help you and Jennifer in the short or long run."

"Me?"

"Yes, I work with family members as well. This amnesia certainly affects you too." Jonathan felt like he was drowning. He had overcome murderers, embezzlers, psychos and more. How could he overcome the loss of his wife’s memory?

"On a more hopeful note, amnesia can be away for the brain to protect itself."

"I don’t know about that. Jennifer is a strong woman. We’ve had brushes with death before and she has never faltered."

"Still, Mr. Hart. The police believe someone tried to kill her. If she knows something that some one else would kill for, it is much safer for her to forget. The psyche is strange that way. We are doing all we can. She will be having tests tomorrow to determine if there is damage to the brain. If that goes well then it may just be a psychological amnesia which has a very good prognosis."

"So if there is no damage to the brain, then she will get her memory back."

"Theoretically. Like I said the psyche is a powerful thing and is not fully understood."

"What is being done about her safety?"

"We have alerted hospital security and the police has assigned an officer to the hospital."

Jonathan was weary. It had been a long time since he had felt so completely helpless.

Back at the hotel, Jonathan got a bite to eat and then sat quietly pondering his predicament. He, on several occasions had fears of losing Jennifer but it was always related to her physical safety. Never had he thought that he would lose her this way. He sat on his hotel room terrace overlooking the courtyard.

"I should be making love to her now," he thought to himself. He closed his eyes imagining holding her, touching her, and taking in the scent of her. In effort to feel close to her he began to go through her things. Taking a blouse from her suitcase, he held it up to his face, soaking in her aroma. Putting it back, he sat at the desk where she had been working on her article. He rifled through the papers mindlessly. He stopped as he touched her journal.

Jennifer had always kept a journal since he had known her. She must have 30 books now, he thought. Could it hold a clue? Jonathan deliberated about whether or not to open the book. He held Jennifer in the highest regard and would never want to invade her private world. On the other hand, perhaps she left a clue as to who would do this to her....to him.

He opened the journal to the last written page dated the evening he called her.

Jonathan read about the Chappelle’s again. Greed is always a motivation for murder. I wonder what she stumbled into?