“Tell me, Brady, do you do this for all house guests that come to the Diamond D?” she asked as she peered demurely at him over the rim of her cup.
He grinned. “Only the ones I want to leave a lasting impression on,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “You have a concussion. You need to be taking it easy.”
Unconsciously, her fingertips fluttered to the stitched wound hidden by her hair. “Bridget says I can move around. As long as I don’t rush or exert myself. And I’m feeling much stronger today.”
“That’s good. Real good.”
He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles as though he was planning to stay there for a while. Apparently it didn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable to visit a woman’s bedroom. But then a man who looked like him had probably had plenty of practice at it, she thought.
“We…were all worried about you last night,” she murmured. “I’m glad to see you made it safely back home.”
He simply looked at her, his eyes warm and appreciative. “It was nothing to get worked up about. Just a little scuffle. A man with a gun got upset and went a little off the beam. That’s all. He’s safe behind bars now. And we’re all just fine.”
The first few hours after she’d gone to bed, she’d imagined him in all sorts of dangerous situations and she’d been desperately afraid for his safety. Now, she felt foolish for letting her imagination and her feelings get so out of hand. “Does that sort of thing happen often?” she asked.
“No. But neither does finding a pretty girl with amnesia,” he answered, a faint grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “The stars must have gone off-kilter this past week. The department’s been extra busy.”
“Well, I wish the stars would realign themselves,” she did her best to joke. “Maybe then I’d get my memory back.”
“Still nothing?”
Staring down at her cooling coffee, she said dismally, “No. Apparently nothing up there in my head is regenerating.”
“If Brita says it will, then it will. You just need time,” he said with encouragement. Pulling his legs toward him, he leaned forward and rested his forearms across his thighs. “Later this morning Hank and I are going to the track and plaster your picture throughout the clubhouse and betting area. It could be that some of the employees will remember seeing you there last Sunday.”
Brady was being so kind and positive the least she could do was be hopeful and optimistic, too. But that was rather difficult to do when every path her mind took, it ran into a black wall.
“But how will that help, Brady? More than likely I didn’t give my name to anyone.”
“Probably not. But just having someone witness seeing you in a certain place is a big start. If we can confirm that you were at the track that will give us a starting place. From there we can try to trace your steps forward and backward.”
She gave him the bravest smile she could muster. “Okay. I trust you.”
He chuckled. “Really? Then you’re the first woman who ever has.”
Was he saying she was gullible where he was concerned? It didn’t matter. As far as her missing person case was concerned, she had to trust him. As a man, it shouldn’t matter. Even if he wasn’t involved with one special woman, she was in no position to get her feelings tangled up with him. With her past a blank, her future could be nothing but uncertain.
Not really knowing what to reply to his sardonic remark, she sipped her coffee and waited for him to take the conversation elsewhere.
“So what are you going to do today? Sit in a stuffed armchair and read a book?”
Wondering if he was serious, she glanced at him. “I have amnesia, not paralysis.”
A dimple came and went in his cheek. “Well, if reading sounds too boring you can get Grandma to tell you stories about when she and Grandpa first came here. She has some real humdingers.”
“I’m sure. She’s quite a colorful woman. But I already have something planned. Later this morning Dallas is taking me over to her stables to have a look around.”
He groaned. “Listen, Lass, if you let her, Dallas will drive you crazy talking about all her kids and horses and work. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to tell her to hush and bring you home.”
Home. Funny how he said it that way, she thought. As though this place was her home, too. The idea touched her and yet at the same time it made her feel a bit weepy. Somewhere there had to be walls and floors and rooms that had made up her home. Had anyone lived in it with her? Had she been loved? The way the Donovans loved each other?
“I’m sure Dallas and I will get on just fine,” she told him. “I like her very much.”
“Well, as much as I like sitting here with you and seeing you in that pretty red thing you’re wearing, I’ve got to head to work.” He rose to his feet, but instead of heading toward the door, he picked up the thermos and refilled the china cup she was balancing on her knee.
His remark about her gown had her eyes flying downward and she realized with a start that the sheet had slipped to expose her bodice. Thankfully, the paper-thin silk was still covering her breasts.
With a tiny gasp, she started to reach for the sheet, but realized the movement was causing the coffee to slosh dangerously near the rim of the cup.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a little laugh, then taking pity on her, started toward the door. “You look beautiful. Just the way I imagined you would.” With his hand on the knob, he gave her one last glance. “Unless an emergency comes up, I’ll see you later this evening. And who knows, by then someone searching for you might contact the sheriff’s department.”
“I guess that could happen,” she said, while wondering why she couldn’t muster up more enthusiasm over the idea.
“Sure it could,” he said cheerfully. “And then all your problems will be solved.”
He gave her a little salute then stepped out the door. Once it clicked behind him, Lass’s shoulders sagged against the pillows. Would finding her past really solve all her problems, she wondered.
Somehow she didn’t think so. Something kept swirling around in her brain, some dark elusive thought that kept whispering the words danger and fear.
Later that morning, dressed in her own boots, and the jeans and blouse that the maid had laundered for her, she climbed into a pickup truck with Dallas and the two of them headed south on a graveled road toward a ridge of desert mountains.
“Looks like we’re going into the wilderness,” Lass commented. “I thought your stable was probably located close to the highway. For convenience.”
Smiling, Dallas shook her head. “When I first got the idea to build the stables, I knew I wanted it to be far away from the things that most town kids see every day. Like concrete, asphalt and the whiz of vehicles. I wanted it to be an escape for them.” She jerked the steering wheel to avoid a pothole. “I admit that the trip back here isn’t like a drive to the country club. But I believe all in all, it’s worth it for the children.” She glanced at Lass. “I guess this is a silly question, but do you think you have children or a child of your own?”
Sighing, Lass stared out the window at the passing desert landscape. Instinctively, she felt she’d come from a place where huge trees shaded deep green lawns. Yet when she thought of something personal, like a husband or children, her mind revolted and turned as blank as a clean blackboard.
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself, Dallas. And when I try to remember if I ever held a baby of my own…” She paused and shook her head miserably. “I don’t feel as though I’ve ever had a child. Dear God, I hope there’s not a baby out there somewhere crying for me and I have no way of knowing—of getting back to him or her.”
Brady’s sister nodded grimly. “Yes. I can see where that thought would be torturous.”
“Bridget did say that it’s unlikely I’ve given birth. Still, that doesn’t mean there isn’t a child out there waiting for me.”
Three miles from the Diamond D ra
nch yard, beyond the mountain ridge, two huge barns and several smaller buildings were erected in a meadow not far from a small creek. Dallas wasted no time in taking Lass through the barn where the horses were stalled, the tack and feed kept and the outside riding arena. Because the day was growing very warm, Dallas had decided to move the riders to a smaller, indoor arena where the temperature was regulated.
Whenever they stepped inside, Lass was surprised to see several stable assistants had children already mounted and moving slowly over the carefully raked ground. Some had outward problems that were obvious to any onlooker, like leg braces or a missing limb. Others suffered the less obvious, such as mental and emotional handicaps. But to Lass’s delight, they were all smiling and having a good time.
“This is wonderful!” Lass exclaimed as she twisted her head in an effort to take everything in. “The children appear to love it!”
Dallas’s eyes twinkled with pride. “They do. And the interaction with the horses helps them in ways you wouldn’t believe. I hope while you’re here you’ll get a chance to see all the positives that go on here,” she said.
“I think I’m seeing it right now,” Lass told her.
Taking her by the arm as though she’d known her for years, Dallas urged her forward. “C’mon and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Much later, while Dallas went to deal with a few of the more problematic riders, Lass was content to find a seat on a hay bale behind the fenced arena. She was concentrating on the children and watching the interaction between them and Dallas, when a slight movement caught her eye.
Turning her head slightly, Lass saw a tall, dark-haired man tethering a white horse to a hitching post. There was nothing unusual or out of sorts with the man or the animal and she was on the verge of turning her attention back toward the arena when images suddenly began to flash in front of her eyes.
A steel-gray horse wearing a bright red blanket, a saddle being tossed upon its back. A tall, faceless man in tan chinos, his hand gripping her wrist.
You’re coming with me. Coming with me. Coming with me.
The male voice chanted the words over and over in her head, wrapping the phrase around the flashing images until everything became a violent blur.
Releasing a faint sob, she dropped her head in her hands and supped in long, cleansing breaths. If she was actually remembering, she didn’t want any part of it.
“Lass? Are you okay?”
Dropping her hands away from her face, she looked up to see Brady’s sister standing over her. The woman was looking at her with concern and for a moment Lass wondered if she’d unconsciously cried out in fear.
“I…um, my head is starting to pound again. That’s all.” She didn’t want to tell Dallas about her visions just yet. Not until she’d spoken to Brady. He was the one who’d rescued her. He was the one who was working to find her identity. And he was the one she trusted to make some sort of sense of her predicament.
“Oh. I’d better get you back to the house!” With a hand on Lass’s arm, she helped her to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Lass. I’ve probably put too much on you this morning. Brady is going to be furious with me.”
“Bridget is my doctor. Not Brady,” Lass pointed out.
A knowing smile crossed Dallas’s pretty face. “Yes. But my brother considers you his lost and found.”
Dallas’s words should have lent her some sort of comfort. After all, what normal woman wouldn’t want to be tucked under the protective wing of a sexy lawman like Brady?
But Lass wasn’t a typical woman. And after experiencing those strange visions a few moments ago, she feared her hopes for a normal future were in jeopardy.
For the remainder of the day, Lass stuck close to the house and generally tried to relax. But that was difficult to do when her head was spinning with the unbidden images she’d experienced at Dallas’s riding stables. Everything about them had scared and confused her and she was desperate to see Brady again. Not only to tell him what had happened, but also to see his smile, to hear his strong voice assuring her that everything would be all right.
She was sitting on a covered porch at the back of the house, two of the family’s pet cats curled at her feet, when she heard footsteps behind her. Expecting it to be Fiona or Kate inviting her in for drinks, she was more than surprised to see Brady.
“Mom told me where you were,” he explained as he approached her chair. “Why are you sitting out here all by yourself?”
Even though he was still in his work clothes, he looked wonderful to her and before she could contain herself, she jumped to her feet and threw herself against his chest.
“Oh, Brady, I’m so glad you’re home!” she practically sobbed.
His face a mixture of pleasure and confusion, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Whoa now, Lass, there’s not any need for you to be so worked up. I haven’t had anybody shooting at me today. That was last night.”
Sniffing, she tilted her head back and looked up at him with misty eyes. “I’m sorry for being so…melodramatic, Brady. You must think I’ve lost my mind. And I—” With an anguished groan, she twisted out of his arms and turned her back to him. “I’m afraid I have. I apologize for throwing myself at you like that.”
His low chuckles were suddenly brushing against the back of her neck and suddenly the quivering in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with fear.
“You think you need to apologize for hugging me? I just wished you’d hung on longer.”
His suggestive remark had her swallowing, fighting the urge to turn to him once more. “I don’t think…that would be wise,” she said, her voice breathy and broken.
“Why?”
She couldn’t summon an answer and then it didn’t matter as his hand pushed the curtain of her long hair to one side and his lips settled softly on the back of her neck.
“Because I might do this,” he whispered against her skin. “Or this?”
With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her toward him and all Lass could do was stand motionless and wait for his kiss.
Chapter Six
Since the night Brady had found her in the ditch and propped her limp body in the circle of his arms, he’d wondered how it would feel to hold this woman in a romantic embrace, imagined how her lips would taste. Yet none of those mental images had come close to the actual thing he was experiencing now.
He knew he should be resisting her. He should remember how vulnerable she was, that she looked to him for protection. But she’d made the first move, and he wasn’t the type to refuse a beautiful woman. Especially not this one.
Tucked close against him, her body felt small and soft and incredibly warm, while her lips tasted like sweet fruit. Ripe. Juicy. Delicious. Her hands were planted against his chest and though her fingers were small, they were sending shock waves of heat straight through the fabric of his shirt and onto his skin.
Brady could have stood there kissing her forever if she’d not finally broke the contact of their lips and squirmed her way out of his arms. And even then, as she stood there looking at him with wide, wondrous eyes, he wanted to gather her back against him, to experience the pleasure of her all over again.
“I’m sorry. I…must have sent you the wrong signal,” she finally said in a raw whisper.
He couldn’t stop a grin from lifting one corner of his mouth. “Which time? When you hugged me? Or when you kissed me?”
Groaning with embarrassment, she covered her mouth with her hand. As though he’d just marked her in some way and she didn’t want him or anyone to see the change in her.
“Both times!” she exclaimed, then dropped her hand and stared at him in a beseeching way. “Please forget that. Every bit of it!”
Brady could see she was deadly serious, but still he couldn’t prevent the low chuckles that rippled up in his throat. She was just too precious, too beautiful. “Are you kidding? I’m not about to forget something that wonderful.”
Her nostrils flar
ed and he watched the rapid rise and fall of her bosom as images of her in bed this morning assaulted his already lust-filled brain. The thin red silk had revealed the exact shape of her nipples, the perfect round curves of her breasts. He’d wanted to touch her then. Just as badly as he wanted to touch her now.
“Brady, I need to explain. I—”
“Lass, there’s no need for you to break apart over a little kiss. You’re carrying on as though you’ve never been kissed before,” he teased in an effort to ease the moment. Clearly she was distressed and he didn’t understand exactly why. He knew enough about women to know when one was enjoying being kissed and Lass had clearly been enjoying it.
She grimaced. “I wouldn’t know! I don’t remember what I’ve done in the past! Or who I’ve done it with,” she practically snapped, then shook her head with dismay. “Forgive me, Brady. I…seem to be breaking apart, don’t I? And I’m trying so hard to hold myself together. But this morning—”
She trailed off and Brady stepped forward and reached for her hand. To his relief, she wrapped her fingers around his and held on tightly.
“What about this morning?” he urged. “Did something happen while I was gone?”
Sighing, she closed her eyes. “I’m not sure. Maybe I’ve worked myself up over nothing,” she told him. “But whatever I saw in my mind won’t go away. That must mean it happened. Wouldn’t you think?”
Not fully understanding what she was trying to say, he led her to a wicker love seat shaded by a curtain of morning glory vines.
“Okay, Lass, start over. Are you trying to tell me that you’ve remembered something?”
She nodded soberly. “I think so. But I’m not sure. I was with Dallas at her stables this morning. Just sitting there watching the children. And then I saw one of the stable helpers tending to a horse and something happened in my head. All of a sudden images were flashing in front of my eyes.”
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