Tyler digested this, then thoughtfully tilted his head to one side. “Yeah, but Cloudwalker ain’t my friend,” he pointed out. “He don’t even know me.”
“Not yet. But he’d like to make friends with you. And he’s like Rusty, he’s a very special horse. You can trust him to take care of you. I promise.”
“Say, what is this? Are you giving my girl a hard time?”
Both Tyler and Lass turned their heads to see Brady had walked up behind them. He was still dressed in his uniform, but she was grateful to see he’d considered the children and put away his handgun and holster.
Lass rose to her feet to greet him and he quickly slipped his arm around her waist and gathered her to his side. As she smiled at him, she couldn’t stop her heart from jumping with joy or stop it from thinking how right it felt to be wrapped in the sheltered circle of his arm.
Rather than appearing intimidated, Tyler surprised her by taking the offensive. “Who says she’s your girl?”
“I do. That’s who,” Brady shot back at him.
Backing down, Tyler mumbled, “Oh. Well, I wasn’t tryin’ to steal her from you or anything.”
“That’s good to know. For a minute there I thought you were giving her the eye.” Brady gave Lass a discreet little wink. “So why aren’t you riding…uh, what did you say your name was? Jim-Bob? Frankie?”
The child rolled his eyes. “No! It’s Tyler!”
“Okay, Ty. So why aren’t you riding? Think you’re better than all the other kids? Or are you afraid you’ll fall off and everyone will laugh at you?”
Lass very nearly gasped, but stopped just short of it. Clearly, Brady understood what it was like to be a little boy of Tyler’s age. He ought to know how to handle the child better than she. But wasn’t he being a little tough?
She didn’t have to wonder for long. Tyler instantly hopped off the bale of hay and squared around to face Brady.
“I ain’t afraid to ride any ol’ horse here!” he exclaimed. “And I won’t fall off, either! I’m just as good a cowboy as you are!”
Chuckling now, Brady reached out and affectionately ruffled the child’s hair. “Probably better. Now come on and show me what you’re made of. Guts or sawdust?”
Tyler thrust his little stomach forward and pointed to the pouch he’d made. “I’ve got plenty of guts! See! I’ll show ya!”
“I can’t wait,” Brady dared.
Tyler tugged on Lass’s sleeve. “Come on, Miss Lass. Let’s go get Cloudwalker!”
With a groan and a grin, Lass shook her head. “Male mentality. I don’t understand it.”
Ten minutes later, Tyler was in the saddle and insisting he could take the reins and handle the horse on his own.
Brady lifted the bridle reins over the paint’s head and placed them in Tyler’s hands. After a few last-minute instructions, he said, “Okay, off you go. And if you need me or Miss Lass we’ll be right here.”
“I won’t,” he said, then confidently set the horse in forward motion.
Standing at one end of the arena, Lass and Brady watched him slowly clop toward the rest of the children.
“Well, I guess he showed you he had guts,” she said.
Brady chuckled. “Yes. But you’d already talked him into facing his fears. I just put the rest in motion.”
She glanced at him. “I didn’t know you heard my story.”
“I’d been standing there longer than you think. You’ve got a pretty good imagination. At least, it worked on Tyler.”
Her brows arched. “Imagination? I’ll have you know that was a true story.”
It was Brady’s turn to look surprised. “Really? You actually broke your arm and had a horse named Rusty?”
“Yes. And my father did tell me those things about facing my fears.” With a helpless sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? I can remember those sorts of things yet I can’t remember names or where I lived—except that I believe it was somewhere in Texas.”
“Your memory is returning, though. You’re recalling more and more. Who knows, in a few days everything may come back to you.”
“You could be right,” Lass murmured. Each day that passed brought more and more snippets of her past to mind. Bridget called them small signs that her memory was healing. So why didn’t that idea bring her more joy? Because she didn’t want to face her past? Or because she didn’t want to leave this man? A man she’d already fallen in love with?
“Lass, this horse, Rusty, can you remember where you got him? What he looked like?”
Her forehead puckered as she contemplated his questions. “Not exactly. He was sorrel with a long flaxen mane and tail. And I think he had a blaze down his face.”
“What about a brand?”
She glanced at him. “A brand?”
“Yes. It’s a long shot, but if he had a brand we might trace his ownership.”
“I see.” She closed her eyes and tried to picture her beloved childhood friend more clearly. “I think—I’m not sure, but I seem to remember there was something on his left hip. Something like an initial. Like a—a P. Yes, it was a P!”
Encouraged, he nodded. “Good. That’s a start. But I doubt one single letter would be used for a brand. It would need a distinguishing mark with it. Like a Bar or Rafter. Rocking. Wings for Flying P. Does any of that ring a bell?”
For several moments, she rolled those possibilities around, then shook her head. Brady was trying so hard to move her case forward. She didn’t want to disappoint him. And yet when he asked her to try to remember, her mind recoiled. Dear God, she felt torn in all directions.
“None of that sounds right,” she told him. “But I’ll try to remember. I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it, Lass. We still have more options to put into motion.”
He glanced thoughtfully out at the children who were presently riding in an obedient circle over the tilled ground. Following his gaze, Lass was happy to see that Tyler was already mixing with the other children, and from the smile on his young face, appeared to have forgotten all about the brace on his leg.
“Since we’ve been busy with Tyler, I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet,” he said. “This afternoon, before I left headquarters, I obtained a bit more information about your case.”
Lass suddenly froze. “Information? From where? Whom?”
“A jockey. He’d been riding at Ruidoso Downs earlier that Sunday afternoon on the day you were injured. Seems this jockey recalls seeing you at the track that day.”
Her heart leaped with something akin to fear. So it was now confirmed. She had been at the local racetrack before she’d been injured.
“Why is the jockey just now coming forward with this information?” she asked, her mind swirling with confusion. “Does he know me personally?”
Brady frowned at her last question. “Why, no. Should he? I mean, do you think in your past that you might have rubbed shoulders that closely with people in the racing circle?”
Tormented by the empty spaces in her mind, she looked at him. “I can’t explain it, Brady. It’s impossible for me to recall my parents’ name, or mine for that matter, but these past few days I’ve come to realize that I can name every racetrack in the southwest and most of their leading riders, including Ruidoso Downs. I even recall visiting most of the tracks. That has to mean that I was closely associated with the business somehow. But if that’s true, then someone should have recognized me before now—-before this jockey. Oh, Brady, this is crazy, I know. I’m crazy!”
“Lass!” he gently scolded, “don’t ever say that about yourself. You’ve had an injury and you can’t remember everything. That doesn’t mean you’ve lost your mind. There could be all sorts of explanations why no one has recognized you,” Brady reasoned. “Could be you’ve been away from the business for a few years. Or your appearance has changed. That’s not uncommon with young women changing their hair color or style. I’ve had Liam asking around his racing circles t
o see if anyone has been reported missing, but no one he contacted knows you. But then if you were associated with quarter horses or standard breds he wouldn’t be familiar with you or your connections.”
She let out a heavy sigh and tried her best to smile at him. “That’s true. And I’m sorry, Brady for being so negative. Please—go on about this jockey.”
“Well, he says that after the meet that Sunday, he flew out to California to ride at Hollywood Park. He didn’t return until yesterday and that’s when he saw your picture posted in the clubhouse.”
“And out of a crowd of thousands, he remembers seeing me? That sounds highly unlikely.”
He continued on in a patient voice, “Lass, you were supposedly standing outside of the saddling paddock just where the horses start onto the track for the post parade. He says he remembers this because his mount tossed him to the dirt right in front of you and he was naturally a little embarrassed about losing his seat in front of an attractive young woman.”
Jockeys often lost their seat in the saddle, she thought. It wasn’t like that would have been a major occurrence. Still, with it happening right in front of her, she should be able to remember the incident. And yet, she couldn’t even recall being at the track that day. “Did he have any other information that might help identify me?”
The corners of Brady’s mouth curved downward. “Not exactly. But he does recall that a man was with you. The jockey described this man as being tall, dark-haired and somewhere in his mid- to late-twenties. This new information doesn’t necessarily move our case forward,” he added, “but it underscores everything that Johnny Chino uncovered. I believe this man at the track is the same man you struggled with on the mountain highway.”
Inside her, fear and confusion roiled like a black cloud. She felt suffocated and shaken. “Oh, God, Brady, who was that man?” With both hands, she reached for his arm and clung to him tightly. “Why was I at the track with someone who wanted to…hurt me?”
“Lass, have you ever stopped to think you didn’t want to be there with him?”
Her brows pulled together. Could that have happened? Or had she been with this man because she’d wrongly trusted him?
Oh, come on, Lass. It was just a kiss. You know you liked it. Show me again, baby, show me how much you want me.
Suddenly an image was exploding behind her eyes and in it the man’s lips were grinding down on hers, bruising, hurting, repulsing her in every way. She pushed hard against his chest and turned to run.
“Lass? Honey, what’s wrong?”
Brady’s hand stroked her upper arm as Lass struggled to jerk her thoughts back to the present.
“I—Nothing is wrong,” she said in a strained voice.
“Nothing! You’re trembling, Lass.” He wrapped his hand firmly around her elbow. “I want you to go to Dallas’s office and lie down on the couch. I’ll see after Tyler and the rest of the kids.”
Shaking her head, she suddenly set her jaw with determination. Before her accident a man had been trying to manipulate her. She was certain of that now. But who and why? Why had he been kissing her and why had she hated his very touch? Clearly, he was a part of those bad things she’d been running from. And was still running from. Sooner or later, she was going to have to turn and face the shadowy man. Face everything she’d left behind.
“I’m okay, Brady. And I really don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “I’m going to check on the children.”
As she walked away, Brady didn’t try to stop her. But he desperately wanted to. There was something troubling her. Something more than having to accept that another human being had tried to harm her. He almost got the feeling that a part of her didn’t want him to solve the mystery of her identity.
But then, a part of him didn’t want to solve it, either.
Chapter Ten
On certain days of the week, Dallas kept the stables open and running so that working parents could bring their children after work hours. But the next evening wasn’t a day with extended hours, which allowed Lass to return to the ranch house well in advance of dinnertime. After showering and changing into a peach-colored sundress and a pair of sandals, she started down the stairs with plans to head to the family room.
Normally Kate was the first one there to drink a glass of wine and play her beloved piano. During these past weeks Lass had been on the Diamond D, she’d grown close to the older Donovan woman. Kate was gruff and forward in many ways, but there was a calm strength to the woman that comforted Lass.
“Now this is what I call perfect timing. And you’re even dressed for the part.”
Hearing Brady’s voice, Lass glanced up to see him standing at the foot of the stairs. Apparently he’d been home long enough to change out of his uniform. A pair of worn jeans hugged his thighs and hips while a navy blue T-shirt was tucked into the lean waistband. He looked handsome and sexy, yet it was the warm smile on his face that drew her to him, touched her just as deeply as his kiss.
“Hello, Brady,” she greeted, her heart booming in her chest. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. Last night at the stables, you said your schedule was changing and that you’d be working late.”
She stepped off the bottom stair and he immediately pressed a kiss to her cheek and slung his arm through hers.
“My schedule changed at the last minute. I’m going to a party. Sheriff’s orders. And I want you to come along with me.”
Unconsciously her palm flattened against her chest. “Me? But I don’t know the sheriff, Brady. And I—” biting her lip, she glanced awkwardly away from him “—I really don’t want to discuss my case with a…group of strange people.”
He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “Trust me, honey, there won’t be any talk about work. Not from me or the sheriff. If anyone else brings up your situation and you don’t want to talk about it, then tell them to mind their own business.”
“Oh, Brady,” she lightly scolded. “That would be rude and uncomfortable.”
“Listen, beautiful, what would be rude and uncomfortable is for you to make me to go to the party tonight without a date. Especially when I was counting on you.”
A wry smile of surrender touched her lips. How could she say no to him, when every cell in her body wanted to be with the man? Since that night she’d remembered her mother’s death, their relationship had taken a different turn. He seemed to be more gentle, more concerned about her feelings. And whenever he kissed her, it was more than fiery lust. Now when their lips met, she tasted tender passion, felt emotions gently knocking on her heart and begging to come in. If he was seeing other women while he was away from the ranch, she didn’t know. Nor did she feel she had the right to question him. But deep down, whenever he looked at her, touched her, she wanted to believe she was special to him. More special than any other woman had been to him.
“All right. I suppose I can go. But what about dinner with your family? And—” she glanced doubtfully down at her dress “—am I dressed appropriately for this outing?”
“Forget dinner with the folks. We’ll be eating at the Hamiltons. Their twin boys are turning twelve this week and they’re having a little family celebration.”
“Oh. And you’re considered family? Or was the rest of the sheriff’s staff invited, too?” she asked.
The impish grin on his face told Lass that he and the sheriff were closer than he wanted his coworkers to know.
“Some of them will be there. The rest had to stay behind and work.” He gestured up to the second floor where the bedrooms were located. “If you want to take a purse or anything, now would be the time to get it. We need to be leaving.”
She rolled her eyes. “You believe in giving a girl plenty of notice, don’t you?”
He winked. “Gives her less time to back out on me,” he teased.
Sure, Lass thought, as she hurried up the stairs to fetch her purse. She doubted Brady had ever been stood up by any woman. And here she was falling over
herself to have an outing with the man. What did that say about her? That she was gullible? Vulnerable? Foolish? Or all three? The answer hardly mattered, she told herself. Her resistance had crumbled the moment she’d looked up to see him at the foot of the stairs, smiling as though she was the only woman in his life.
The Hamilton ranch, the Bar H Bar, was located several miles east of Carrizozo, the little county seat where the sheriff’s department was located. Just as the sun was setting, Brady drove slowly through an open mesa covered with creosote, grama grass and blue sage. Here and there, prickly pear and cholla cacti grew at the road’s edge. Some of the pear cactus was in bloom and the bright yellow roses reminded her of some distant place in her mind, a place where the sun was hot and horse’s hooves thundered over a plowed track, giant live oaks spread like deep green umbrellas, shading the lawns and pastures with their sheltering arms.
Home. Was that her home? The snatches of memory caused a part of her heart to ache with longing. Yet when she turned her gaze upon Brady, she realized the thought of leaving him made her ache even more.
“You’ve gone quiet, Lass. What are you thinking?” Brady asked as he steered the truck over the graveled road. “Are you nervous about meeting my friends?”
By now the mesa was behind them and they were traveling into a group of low-rising hills. Juniper and pinyon dotted the desert slopes while spiny yucca plants dared to grow between slabs of rock.
“A little,” she admitted. “But I was mostly thinking how beautiful this land is. How different it is where I came from.”
He darted a sharp glance at her. “You’re sure about that?” he asked, then grimaced. “Sorry. I forgot that you didn’t want to talk about your amnesia this evening.”
“It’s not a pleasant topic,” she said flatly. “But I’m beginning to see that it’s a subject I can’t avoid entirely. Everything I look at, think about, talk about, connects to my memory. I’m beginning to think I’ve lost the most important part of my brain.”
“You’re going to get it back, Lass. I’m as sure of that as I’m sure my middle name is Roark.”
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