The Deputy's Lost and Found

by Stella Bagwell

  Twisting around to face him, she said in a stricken voice, “But it has happened, Brady! And where is this person now? What if he’s hanging around, waiting to hurt me again?”

  With a heavy groan, Brady circled his arms around her and Lass gladly settled her cheek upon his broad chest.

  Bending his head, he whispered against the top of her hair, “No one is going to hurt you here on the Diamond D, Lass. You may not realize it, because they’re dressed like the rest of the cowboys around here, but we have plenty of security roaming the ranch. Many of our horses are worth six and seven figures each. You don’t take chances with them. So if anyone shows up without a reason for being here, the security guys will know it.”

  “But Dallas and I went shopping in town today!” she exclaimed. “He could have been stalking us. He—”

  His arms tightened to pull her even closer. “Is more than likely long gone from this area. And if he isn’t, then I’ll catch the bastard. In the meantime, I don’t want you leaving the ranch alone for any reason. And if you do leave with anyone, I want to know about it first. Okay?”

  Lass couldn’t stop a sliver of fear from snaking down her spine. “I understand.”

  His forefinger slid beneath her chin and lifted her face up to his. “You trust me to take care of you, don’t you?” he asked softly.

  With her safety, yes. Her heart? That was another matter. Yet where this man was concerned, it seemed to ignore the fact that he was a self-admitted bachelor and her future was a big question mark. At this moment, she couldn’t stop it from pounding with joy at being in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hard body pressed against hers.

  “Yes,” she murmured. “I trust you.”

  The pads of his fingers gently brushed her cheek, then trailed downward along the side of her neck. Without looking up at the sky, Lass sensed that the distant clouds had now moved over them. But to her, the oncoming storm wasn’t nearly as dangerous to her well-being as this man she was clinging to.

  “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice, Lass.”

  She sighed as his hand moved to the skin of her bare back. “That’s because I’m afraid I’m beginning to trust you too much, Brady.”

  “That’s impossible,” he whispered. “Just like it’s impossible for me not to kiss you.”

  This time Lass didn’t hide her desire for him or wait for him to bend his head to hers. Rising up to her tiptoes, she angled her mouth to his, then moaned with satisfaction as he took what she offered.

  The tender movement of his lips against hers was the complete opposite of the fiercely heated kiss they’d shared by the pool, yet it was equally potent, touching her senses, her heart so deeply, that her hands clutched him for support, while her body wilted and wallowed in the pleasure he was creating inside her.

  Brady’s body was burning, his mind threatening to lose all common sense, when suddenly a whoosh of cold wind swept across the balcony and, close on its heels, fat rain drops spattered around them like warning signals from heaven.

  Lifting his head, Brady grabbed her hand. “We’d better get inside before we get drenched.”

  By the time they entered the bedroom and Brady had safely secured the glass door behind them, lightning was cracking ever so close. Thunder rumbled loudly, followed by more wicked flashes of raw electricity.

  Clutching her arms to her waist, Lass looked at him and tried to push away her disappointment, to tell herself that it was probably for the best that Mother Nature had decided to interrupt their embrace.

  A few steps away, Brady spoke her same thoughts, only for a different reason. “It’s probably a good thing the rain ran us inside,” he said as he shook a few drops from his hair. “It’s time for dinner and if we don’t show up soon, Grandma will come looking for us. She’s just like Dad, grumbling and groaning if one of us is late to the dining table.”

  Lass suspected he was right. The older woman had already come searching for them last night when she and Brady had been kissing on the porch. If Kate had seen then what was going on between her grandson and Lass, she’d never mentioned it. But Lass figured the woman missed nothing that went on in the Donovan house.

  After the kiss Brady had just given her, she needed to repair her lipstick, but she wasn’t going to waste the time. Instead, she said, “In that case, we’d better hurry. I don’t want her upset with me.”

  Chuckling, he put his hand to the back of her waist and ushered her out of the bedroom.

  As they quickly crossed the landing, Lass said in a thoughtful voice, “I wonder if I had a grandmother like Kate.”

  “Let’s hope not,” he teased.

  Lass cast him a hopeless look. “What am I doing wondering about grandparents, anyway? I’m a woman who doesn’t even know if she has parents!”

  “Of course you do. Someone gave birth to you, raised you.”

  “Then why aren’t they looking for me?”

  As she and Brady reached the stairs, he paused to look at her. “Your parents could be looking for you, Lass. Just not in the right place yet.”

  Regret clouded her eyes. “When you tell Fiona and Doyle about…what happened to me on the mountain, they’re not going to be pleased. They might even want me to leave before trouble follows me here to the ranch. And I probably should.”

  His hands were suddenly gripping her upper arms. “Not in a million years, Lass! My parents already understood there was a possibility you’d met with foul play. They’ll be concerned, but they’ll hardly be afraid or want you to leave. They’ve dealt with trouble before. And they have six children of their own. They’d want someone to shelter and care for one of us if we were in your predicament.”

  Sighing, she pressed fingers to the tiny ache in her forehead. Since she and Brady had ran in from the rain, her head felt odd and it was a struggle for her to keep her thoughts focused on anything. What was the matter with her?

  “Well, I can only hope that my parents come close to being as kind and generous as yours.”

  With a confident grin, he tucked his arm through hers and guided her down the long staircase. “They’d have to be, Lass, to have a daughter as lovely as you.”

  His compliment put a wan smile on her face and as they continued on down the stairs, she tried to put the troubling thoughts out of her head, but the more she tried to push them aside, the more her mind began to jump erratically from the story that Johnny Chino had revealed, to the faceless man gripping her arm, gritting out a menacing order to follow him.

  “Oh!” Without warning, everything began to swirl wildly around Lass. She swayed drunkenly and grasped blindly for the staircase railing.

  “Lass!” With his arm planted firmly around her waist, Brady steadied her on her feet and helped her off the last stair. “What is it?”

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed a palm to her forehead. Her breaths were coming short and fast and a fine layer of sweat now covered her face.

  “I—I don’t know. I…” The rest of her words trailed away as behind her closed eyes, the vision of a woman’s face suddenly appeared. She had graceful features and coal-black hair, but it was her soft smile that pierced Lass right in the middle of her chest. That gentle, understanding smile was the same one that had soothed Lass down through the years, had encouraged her to face her fears and always put forth her best effort.

  Mother? Yes. Her dear, sweet mother.

  Bending her head, Lass fought to hold on to the image, to connect it to a name, a place. And then without warning, Lass could see herself standing next to a grave. The mound of dirt was covered with fresh flowers and a crowd of mourners was gathered in the quiet cemetery. She sensed that her father was at her side, but she couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to hear him say that her mother was truly gone.

  “Oh, God. Oh, no!” With a sob catching in her throat, Lass lifted her head to stare at Brady. Sorrow, dark and heavy, fell over her, while angry fists pounded at her heart. “I—I’ve remembered my mother,” she finally managed to sa
y in a broken voice. “And—she’s dead, Brady. I don’t have a mother anymore.”

  Clearly stunned, Brady studied her wounded face. “Lass,” he began softly, “are you certain about this? Maybe you’re seeing some other relative, or a friend?”

  “No. It’s my mother. My heart is telling me it’s my mother. I can’t give you her name or where we lived, but I do know that the image was her and that she…is gone.”

  As she spoke the last word tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. Brady gathered her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest.

  “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

  He was stroking her back, waiting for her sobs to subside, when footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and he looked around to see his grandmother approaching them. No doubt she and his father had grown tired of waiting and Kate had come to let the hammer down.

  But after one sweeping glance of the situation, Kate’s annoyed expression turned to concern. “What’s happened?”

  Brady was shocked to find he had to swallow before he could answer his grandmother’s question. “Lass has remembered her mother.”

  Kate arched a brow at him. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  Over Lass’s head, Brady exchanged a troubled look with his grandmother. “It would be—but she’s remembered that her mother has passed away.”

  “Oh, the poor little darling.” Immediately, Kate marched forward and gently eased Lass out of Brady’s arms. “Come on, honey,” she said to Lass, “let me take you to the family room where you can lie down.”

  As Brady watched his grandmother slowly lead Lass away, he felt oddly empty and more than shaken. To see Lass in such grief had been the same as someone stabbing him with a knife. And the moment Kate had pulled Lass from his arms, he’d wanted to snatch her back.

  He was the one who should be consoling Lass. He was the one who wanted to soothe her tears, make her happy. But how could he ever expect to do that? He couldn’t even give her something as simple as her real name.

  Chapter Nine

  For the next week and a half Lass tried to come to terms with her mother’s death and the reality that something unhappy had been going on in her former life. Along with reflections of her mother and the menacing man gripping her wrist, snippets of another person had been entering her mind at unexpected moments. Even though names and places still eluded her, Lass was quite certain the image was that of her father—although she’d not yet gotten a clear picture of his face, she recognized his big frame and deep voice.

  Each time her father’s image flashed through her mind, she was consumed with sadness and confusion. Clearly, all had not been right between father and daughter. But Lass had no idea what had brought about such dissension in the family. She only knew that whatever had occurred now left her feeling cold and empty.

  Bridget had continued to check on Lass every day and the family practitioner kept insisting that Lass needed to start talks with a mental therapist. But so far Lass was reluctant to begin. She’d already remembered enough to tell her that she’d left bad things behind her. Why should she let a therapist, or anyone for that matter, send her back to that place? Lass didn’t want to go back. She wanted to move forward. And perhaps that was the crux of the matter, she thought dismally. Like the psychiatrist in the hospital had initially suggested, her mind refused to remember, because she simply didn’t want it to.

  Still, Lass was smart enough to understand that she couldn’t live in limbo forever. The time would soon come when she would be forced to seek help from a medical specialist. But in the meantime, she wanted to live as though she was as normal as the next person.

  These past days, Lass had worked at Dallas’s riding clinic from early in the mornings to late in the evenings. She’d been doing everything from grooming and tacking the horses to assisting the children with their rides.

  The task of dealing with both children and horses couldn’t have been more perfect for Lass. The job had given her more than pleasure; it had filled her with new confidence. Now she felt as though she was serving a useful purpose rather than sponging off the Donovans. And the fact that Brady had been showing up at the stables these past few evenings made the job doubly pleasurable.

  Dallas had told her that occasionally in the past, whenever his work schedule allowed, Brady showed up at the stables to donate his time and labor to whatever was needed around the place. But she insisted that her brother had never appeared at the stables for several days running. Usually his social calendar took up most of his free time.

  Dallas attributed his sudden interest in the stables to Lass’s presence, but Lass wasn’t convinced that was the only reason Brady had been spending time at the riding clinic. He seemed to genuinely care for the children and went out of his way to make them happy. On one particular evening, he’d ridden for nearly an hour behind the saddle of one very small girl just to help her gain confidence in handling her mount. And last night after everyone had dismounted and gone into the barn for refreshments, he’d gathered the children together and told them a funny story that had kept them all laughing.

  Seeing Brady at the stables had shown Lass a side of him that she’d never expected to see. In spite of his single-guy image, he dealt with the children as any good father would. And even though he’d told Lass that he didn’t have a special touch with horses, he handled and rode them better than she and Dallas put together.

  Lass was learning there were many more sides to the man and each one he revealed drew her to him even more. Yet she continued to remind herself that her time with Brady was borrowed. Where he was concerned, she couldn’t give her emotions free reins. Not if she ever expected to leave this ranch with her heart fully intact.

  They had not kissed again, though Lass hadn’t been able to forget that last kiss. An occasional holding of hands and a few touches and gentle kisses had been all the contact they’d had. And Lass had tried to convince herself that it was what she’d wanted.

  Even so, this particular evening, she’d found herself glancing around, wondering if or when he was going to show up. After a very busy day, things were beginning to wind down and now only a handful of children were mounted and circling their horses around the outdoor arena.

  Earlier this afternoon, Dallas had gone to Ruidoso for business reasons and left Lass in charge of operations. So far Lass hadn’t run into any problems. Except for one little boy with dark brown hair, a metal brace on his leg and a very sad look on his face. His name was Tyler and since his arrival a couple of hours ago, he’d never left his seat on the bale of hay stacked near the arena fence. Earlier Lass had tried to coax him into the saddle, but he’d refused to budge.

  Now, with plans to try again, she walked up to the boy. “Tyler, aren’t you getting tired of sitting there? Would you like to walk with me over to the saddling corral?”

  “Nope. I like it here,” he said stubbornly.

  “Oh. Well, I think it’s time I rested my feet. Do you mind sharing your seat?”

  He shrugged one slender shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

  After easing down beside the child, Lass crossed her boots out in front of her. “Is this your first visit to the stables?”

  Looking bored now, the boy shook his head. “Nope. I was here once before—a long time ago.”

  “Hmm. I guess that was before I started helping around here,” she said thoughtfully. “Did you ride a horse then?”

  “Nope. I didn’t want to ride then and I don’t want to ride now,” he said flatly. “The only reason I’m here is because my mom made me come.”

  “Awww,” Lass groaned with disappointment. “That’s too bad. When I first saw you sitting here, I thought to myself, now I’ll bet that young man loves horses almost as much as I do. I guess I was really wrong about you.”

  His lips clamped into a tight purse, but it was simply taking more strength than he could muster to hold them that way for long. Suddenly words began to burst from him like air from a
balloon.

  “That ain’t so! I love horses!”

  Lass smiled to herself. “Really? That’s great to hear. So why aren’t you riding today?”

  He pulled a face at her that said she must be blind or stupid, or both. “Can’t you see? I gotta wear this brace. I can’t bend my leg.”

  Lass had already talked to Dallas about Tyler’s condition and she’d learned that eventually the brace would be removed and the boy’s leg would be straight and perfect enough to walk, run and jump like any normal child. But in the meantime, Tyler clearly thought that day was a lifetime away.

  “So? That doesn’t mean you can’t sit in the saddle. You’re sitting on this hay bale, aren’t you? And Ms. Dallas has already saddled Cloudwalker for you. He’s a pretty black-and-white paint and he loves attention. Wouldn’t you like to ride him?”

  He looked angry and hopeless at the same time and then his bottom lip thrust forward and began to tremble. “Yeah. But I don’t want to fall off.”

  Easing her arm around the child’s slender shoulders, she said, “Look, Tyler, it’s okay to be scared. I know just how you feel.”

  “I doubt it,” he mumbled. “I’ll bet you didn’t wear any ol’ brace like this.”

  “No. But I once had to wear a cast on my arm for a long time. And at first I was very sad about it. Because I was afraid to ride my horse. His name was Rusty and I loved him more than anything, but I was sure if I got on him I’d fall and break my arm all over again.”

  Interest sparked in the child’s brown eyes. “So what did you do?”

  “My father finally reminded me that Rusty was special. The horse was my best friend and he understood that he needed to take extra care of me and not go too fast or make sharp turns. My father told me that if I couldn’t trust my best friend, then I would be scared of all sorts of things for the rest of my life. So I decided I wasn’t going to let a cast on my arm make me scared or ruin my fun.”