Return of the Cowgirl

by Eve Gaddy

  “We don’t know for certain they were from the Villareals,” she protested.

  “Maybe not, but there’s a damn good chance they were. In which case they’re still looking for you and it’s only a matter of time before they find you again.” He touched the bruises on her neck. “Next time you might not be so lucky.” Especially if she was alone.

  “Maybe they were sex traffickers. It happens.”

  “It’s possible but it’s damned unlikely. Three different sets of people pursuing you? That’s a bit much. Besides, you don’t remember, but you’ve been hiding from the Villareals since you left the ranch. Come with me, Glenna. I have a room in a decent hotel with a lock on the door. Nobody’s getting past me to hurt you. You’ll be safe there until I can get you out of the country.”

  She gazed into his eyes, trying to decide whether to trust him this last step, he suspected. Her eyes were a rich, deep, emerald green, with dark eyelashes he’d bet were natural. He doubted she’d worn makeup at least since she’d left the hospital, maybe longer.

  Even bruised and battered, with dyed hair, and unsure of her identity, Glenna Gallagher was a beautiful woman. One he’d do well to remember was simply a job. “What do you say? Are you ready to get out of here?”

  Chapter Five

  Make up your mind. Trust him or don’t but get off the damn fence. He had an honest face. His eyes weren’t shifty. They met hers squarely, with a hint of amusement. At the moment she’d call them hazel, but really they were undecided, as if they couldn’t make up their mind between blue, green and gray. He was a good-looking man, tall and broad-shouldered without an ounce of fat on him. He looked to be in his mid-thirties. A few years older than her, although she only had a fake ID to tell her what her age was. She’d have to ask Mitch how old Glenna was.

  Honestly, she didn’t have much of a choice. Whoever was looking for her had almost certainly found her once. And since they had, it wouldn’t be hard to find her again, especially if she stayed in Valparaiso. Whether she was running from her former employers or someone else, she was just about done in.

  As for Mitch, if he planned to do something awful with her, why hadn’t he done it? Why the elaborate story about her family and her previous employment—including that she’d been accused of embezzling, for God’s sake—if it wasn’t true? If he’d wanted to coerce her for some nefarious purpose he’d had ample opportunity. Instead, he’d saved her from God knows what kind of horror.

  Her gut said to trust him. Even before he’d come to her defense, she hadn’t gotten a bad vibe from him. Merely an annoying one.

  “How many beds are there?” she asked.

  “One. But there’s a sleeper sofa.”

  It would be nice to have her own room, but she didn’t want to owe the Gallaghers any more than she already did. Plus, she doubted he’d go for it since he had decided she needed protection. The hell of it was, he was probably right. After all, he’d foiled a kidnapping attempt only this morning. “All right.”

  “Good. I’m going to wait on further inspection of the backpack until we get to my hotel.” He closed his pocketknife, tucked it into his pocket, and handed her the pack.

  “Let me get my stuff together and we can go.”

  It didn’t take long to pack up her things. She was traveling light, to say the least. Her belongings consisted of some clothes, a few toiletries, a beat-up pair of running shoes, and the stuff on the bed that he’d dumped out of her backpack. When she finished she grabbed her jacket hanging on a chair back, and slung the bag over one shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  “You’ve got everything?”

  “Every bit of it.”

  Mitch opened the door and waved her through. On the way out she ran into her roommate and told him she was leaving.

  He looked at Mitch and then at her. “¿Estás seguro?”

  “Sí, gracias.”

  “He’s looking out for you,” Mitch said as they walked away.

  “Miguel is a nice guy. He thinks of me as a sister.”

  Mitch raised an eyebrow. “A sister? Not likely.”

  Ignoring his comment, she went to the desk and told them she was leaving. She’d paid for a week’s stay but since she only had one night to go, she didn’t haggle for any money back. It wasn’t worth it when she knew they wouldn’t go for it.

  They walked back to one of the more traveled streets and Mitch hailed a taxi. God, I’m tired, she thought as she got in the cab and relaxed.

  The next thing she knew, she woke with her head on Mitch’s shoulder and him saying, “We’re here.”

  Still groggy, she followed him inside and up to his room. It wasn’t fancy but it was miles above anything she’d stayed in since she woke in the hospital in Argentina with no memory and very little money. Spacious, with a queen bed and a sofa, just as he’d promised. And a bathroom. With a bathtub.

  “Oh, my God.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. If you want to use that bathroom you’d better do it now. When I get in there I’m not coming out for at least an hour.”

  He laughed but took her at her word and went into the bathroom. He came out a short time later, wiping his face with a towel. “There’s no room service but there’s a café in the hotel. Or we can go out.”

  “Here is fine.” She took her backpack with her into the bathroom, shut and locked the door, turned on the taps and began to strip.

  Now is as good a time as any to call the Gallaghers, Mitch thought. He knew they’d be anxious to hear from him, even if he couldn’t give them a definite idea of when he could bring Glenna back. He couldn’t make airline reservations until they sorted out whether Glenna had a real passport or not. He wasn’t at all interested in trying to sneak her into the US with the fake passport.

  He texted Dylan and got a reply right away, so he called.

  “When are you coming back?” Dylan asked as he answered the phone.

  “I don’t know. Could be as few as a couple of days, but that’s only if we find her real passport. Otherwise we’ll have to go to the Embassy for a replacement and that could take awhile.”

  “Has she remembered anything yet?”

  “No, but I think she’s just about accepted she really is Glenna Gallagher and not Rosalie Torres.”

  “Where are you?”

  “At my hotel. She was staying at a hostel and I convinced her to come with me.”

  “Where’s Glenna? Can I talk to her?”

  “She’s taking a bath.” He chuckled, remembering her face when she’d spied the bathroom. “Said she wasn’t coming out for an hour. We can arrange a time to video chat if you want.”

  “I do want, but in the meantime fill me in on everything.”

  Mitch went through the whole story, which took awhile. Dylan asked a few questions and made a few comments, such as wanting to kill the would-be kidnappers, but mostly he let Mitch talk and didn’t interrupt.

  “How sure are you that the Villareals are behind the kidnappers?” he asked when Mitch had finished.

  “Ninety-five percent. I know for a fact they were looking for her at first. I followed them until Zapala. That’s where I lost them and Glenna. If I hadn’t heard about the bus crash by chance, I’d still be looking for her.”

  “Why are they looking for her if they don’t have enough evidence to charge her with embezzlement?”

  “That I don’t know. Neither does she, obviously. But even with amnesia, she’s convinced someone is after her.” They talked a bit more, arranged a time for a video chat and Mitch hung up. Twenty minutes later Glenna emerged from the bathroom.

  At least, he thought it was Glenna. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Holy shit. I thought she was pretty as a brunette but as a redhead she’s a stunner.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you staring at me like that?”

  “Your hair...it’s red.”

  “Well, duh. It’s red in the pictures you have. Assuming I’m Glenna, of course. I d
ecided I could wash out the rinse I put on it.” Her expression grew worried. “Was that a mistake? Should I color it again?”

  “It’s, uh, memorable.” Hot damn, was it memorable. A rich, dark red and flowing well past her shoulders, it was the kind of hair a man wanted to wrap his hands in while he—Shit! Shit, shit, shit. You really are a moron, Hardeman.

  “Oh. I thought since we were leaving the country it wouldn’t matter.”

  Speaking of shit, Mitch finally managed to get his together. “We are, but I’m not sure how long that will take. Do you have a scarf or something you can cover your hair with?”

  “No. My wardrobe doesn’t run to scarves,” she said dryly.

  “We’ll have to buy you one. There’s a shop next door. But in the meantime, try this.” He went to his bag, pulled out a ball cap and handed it to her.

  Frowning, she took it and went back in the bathroom. When she came out she’d managed to stuff her hair beneath the cap. “How’s this?”

  He could still see some of it, but at least it wasn’t hanging out in all its glory. “It’ll work until we get you a scarf.”

  Glenna picked up her backpack and slung it over a shoulder. “I’m ready when you are.”

  Unfortunately for him, she was still beautiful. And he had no business at all thinking about what she’d taste like if he kissed her.

  Chapter Six

  That was weird, Glenna thought, following Mitch out of the hotel. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He’d been tongue-tied when she first came out of the bathroom.

  Which was odd because he didn’t seem like the kind of guy to let much of anything faze him.

  She recognized the look in his eyes, even though he’d masked it quickly. Appreciation. From a man who’d said she wasn’t his type. And why the hell was she wondering what Mitch thought of her? Whether he was attracted to her or not?

  Because you think he’s hot.

  And so what if he was? The last thing she needed was to get involved, however briefly, with a man. Any man. Much less this man she was depending on to get her out of Chile and get her...home?

  She was sure part of the attraction was because she had nothing to hold on to. It was all well and good to have other people be sure she was Glenna Gallagher, and that she had a home and a family in Marietta, Montana. But she couldn’t feel it. It still wasn’t real to her. But Mitch was very real. Solid. Strong. Dependable. And, yes, damn it, hot.

  “This place should have scarves,” Mitch said. “And why don’t you get something else to wear while you’re at it?”

  “Because I’m not spending any more of their money than I have to.”

  Mitch rolled his eyes. “Has it occurred to you that the fact you are wearing the same things over and over makes it easier to find you?”

  Crap. No, it really hadn’t. “Fine. I’ll look for something else to wear.”

  Mitch said nothing, just let her go ahead of him through the door. The shop was tiny but crammed full with all sorts of wares. She looked for a scarf first, thinking that unless she colored her hair again, which she was really tired of doing, that was the first and most important thing she needed.

  She found a large, brightly colored scarf that she would have loved to have, but since it screamed ‘look at me’ she put it back. Picking out a muddy brown and dark green scarf, she showed it to Mitch. “What about this?”

  He looked very much the bodyguard, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back against a convenient post, sharp eyes taking in the scene and watching the entrance. He looked at the scarf she held and snorted with disgust. “It’s ugly. Really ugly.”

  “But very unobtrusive.”

  He shrugged. “You have a point.”

  Glenna picked out a gauzy scarf to go around her neck and hide the bruises, found a pair of slacks that looked about her size, then a long-sleeve shirt and a flowing shirt to go over it. All in dark colors. Boring, but she ought to blend in with any group of people.

  As she started to take her things to the shopkeeper, Mitch stopped her. “You need a coat or a jacket too.”

  “Why? This is a blue jean jacket,” she said, waving a hand at the one she had on. “Everyone has them.”

  “There’s no point in doing it half-assed. Get a different jacket,” he reiterated.

  Grumbling, she thrust everything, including her backpack, into his arms and went back to look for a coat. Picking up a black jacket, she carried it with her to where Mitch waited with her other items. They piled everything in front of a wizened older man who looked them over and named a ridiculous price. Mitch started to get out his money but she stopped him.

  “Absolutely not,” she told him. Haggling was something she’d learned well since she left the hospital. With so little money, she’d had no choice but to learn. She and the shopkeeper haggled until he refused to go lower.

  “Come on,” she told Mitch in Spanish. “We’re going somewhere else, to someone who won’t try to rob us.” When they reached the door the old man called them back. Grudgingly, he agreed to her price. “Okay, you can pay him,” she told Mitch.

  Triumphantly, she left with her purchases. “Why are you laughing?” she asked Mitch.

  “You drive a hard bargain.”

  “It helps not to have any money.”

  He sobered. “You almost certainly have money in a bank account here.”

  “Maybe. But I have no idea how to access it. Besides which, if I’m under suspicion of embezzling they’ve probably frozen my account.”

  “I’m sure your family will help with that when you get home.”

  “What if I’m not her?” What if he and the Gallaghers were doing all this for a stranger? How would they feel then?

  He put his hand on her arm to stop her. “Look at me.” She met his gaze. “You are Glenna Gallagher. I’m sure of it, and so is your brother, Dylan. We arranged to have a video chat later. Dylan will be able to see you and you’ll see him. Maybe that will bring back your memory.”

  “What if it doesn’t?”

  “Then you’ll just have to trust Dylan until it does.”

  It amazed Mitch that with just a few changes Glenna looked like a completely different person. She was still pretty. He didn’t think it would be possible to take that away from her. But with her hair covered by an ugly scarf, another scarf, almost as ugly, around her neck, wearing brown slacks and a shapeless shirt that came to mid-thigh, she wasn’t at all noticeable.

  Then she smiled. Damn, she’d better not do that very often.

  “You’re staring at me,” Glenna said.

  “Sorry. You look different.”

  “I thought that was the point.”

  “It is.”

  “Because you think the Villareals are still after me.”

  “I think they’re looking for you, yes. I’m hoping you won’t be easy to find.” He let her precede him into the hotel restaurant. “The food is decent here,” he said as they were seated and the hostess handed them menus. “The empanadas are really good, if you like them.”

  “I do.” She glanced at the menu, then set it aside. “That’s what I’ll have then. Beef empanadas.”

  “Two beef empanadas,” he told the waitress when she greeted them. “Do you want a glass of wine?”

  “No, but you go ahead.”

  “Not for me either. Solamente agua, por favor,” he told the waitress.

  “I don’t know how much I can drink without it going to my head,” Glenna said. “And since my head is already screwed up, I think it’s better not to drink.”

  “Wise decision.”

  “I’ve been thinking about something. What if I really did embezzle that money? What if I’m a thief?”

  He couldn’t help smiling. “Somehow I doubt that a woman who argues about buying a few clothes because she doesn’t want to spend someone else’s money is guilty of embezzling.” Even if he hadn’t been certain she was Glenna Gallagher, he wouldn’t believe she was a thief.

 
; “But you can’t know that for sure. What if the Villareals have a legitimate reason for wanting to find me?”

  “If they’re legit why did they lie to your brothers? They weren’t pleased that their ranch was my first stop. And why did they attempt kidnapping? Why not go to the authorities?”

  “I don’t know. But we’re still not certain the Villareals were behind that.”

  “Maybe not certain but it’s pretty damned likely. As for why they didn’t go to the authorities, I’ll tell you why. Because they claimed they didn’t have proof, only suspicions. Which in itself is suspicious.” He thought about that a moment. “I met Jorge—he’s the father—when I first got to the ranch. I talked to him a little, but I mainly dealt with Rolando, the son. The old man is afraid of the son. He tried to hide it, but his son scares the crap out of him. There’s something off about Rolando Villareal. I think he’s the motivating force trying to find you, but I’m not sure that has anything to do with embezzling. I think there’s something going on at the ranch. Something Rolando doesn’t want anyone to know. Maybe something criminal.”

  “Why?”

  “For one thing their successful cattle ranch isn’t so successful. From what I found out their cattle business is on its last legs. Yet you wouldn’t know they had a money care in the world.”

  The waitress brought their food and they both began eating. “This is good,” Glenna said. “I’m glad you suggested it.” She took a few more bites, set down her fork and asked, “What makes you think they don’t have money problems?”

  “Two Ferraris and a Porsche.” He took another bite of food and washed it down with water.

  Glenna stared at him open-mouthed. “Two Ferraris and a—”

  “Porsche. Yes.”

  “I wonder...if I am Glenna...what do I know about that?”

  “Whatever you know, I don’t think they want you talking about it.”

  “I would imagine not.” They finished eating but before they left the table, she asked Mitch, “What if they’re looking for me because I’m the one who screwed up? Maybe I didn’t embezzle, but what if I’m the one who ran the cattle business into the ground? I was in charge. I was the manager. Maybe they started a criminal operation and they blame me for needing to do it.”