He was married. Joe Mountain was married. She would be staying with the Sheriff and his…wife.
“I see,” she murmured, but her voice sounded hollow and distant in her ears.
“Like I said, they’ll do for now,” Carrie continued, handing her back the sweatshirt. “We’ll see about getting you some of your own things soon.”
Rain wondered if she was suffering from another bout of amnesia since she had no real recollection of taking off her hospital gown and slipping into Mrs. Joe Mountain’s clothes. She’d performed the motions needed to make the transformation in a trance, feeling shell-shocked and dazed.
It was stupid to feel disappointed. After all, it should hardly matter if he was married. It wasn’t as though they were friends. She barely knew him—she barely knew anyone—and the only thing they’d ever talked about was her “case.”
So why was she feeling hurt? Why was she feeling as though he’d kept the truth from her? Was it part of the amnesia that had her clinging to any small kindness she was shown? Was it part of the illness that had her misconstruing intentions and blowing everything out of proportion?
He was a sheriff, a lawman doing is duty—nothing more and nothing less. He’d been all business, all procedure, and she was a case to him, a mystery that needed to be solved. Still, he had gone an extra mile, stepped out on a limb when he’d offered her a place to stay and his gesture was kind and compassionate. He was doing his job, doing the right thing. She was the one who was having difficulty keeping things in perspective.
“Hey, those look pretty good on you. Go take a look,” Carrie said, motioning to the mirror in the bathroom as she gathered the hospital gown off the bed. “And they look a whole lot better than this thing.”
Rain walked into the small bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror above the sink. They weren’t a perfect fit, but the clothes were an improvement on the faded hospital gown she’d been wearing. Still, she felt pathetic standing there in another woman’s clothes.
She was no one—a woman with no name, no memories. The sheriff felt responsible for her, felt pity for her and he and his wife were taking her in, offering her room and board because she had no where else to go.
“What a fool you are,” she mumbled to her reflection in the mirror.
“Who’s a fool?” Carrie asked, walking up behind her.
Rain jumped, her gaze shifting to Carrie’s reflection in the mirror.
“Uh, me,” she stammered, turning away. Stepping past Carrie, she walked back to the bed, busying herself with straightening the sheets and pillows. “It’s silly to worry about how I look. What difference does it make?”
Carrie laughed, peering at her own reflection and giving her gray curls a casual swipe with her hand. “Oh, darlin’, a woman is always concerned with how she looks. My goodness, I’ve seen women come out of anesthesia after major surgery and ask for lipstick and a mirror.” She turned back, walking out of the bathroom. “But we’re women, and like it or not, it’s in our nature to want to look our best.”
“I suppose,” Rain conceded with a smile.
“And just for your information,” Carrie added. “You don’t have to.”
Rain stopped as she reached to fluff another pillow. “I don’t have to what?”
Carrie laughed and leaned close. “Worry. You look great.”
Embarrassed, Rain couldn’t stop the smile this time. “I do?”
“And you don’t have to do that, either,” Carrie insisted, taking the pillow from Rain and tossing it down on the bed. “This is a hospital, not your mother’s house. We have people who do the linens for us.”
Rain glanced down at the bed, surprised to find the sheets smooth and straight and the pillows fluffed. “Oh! I didn’t realize…I mean…I guess I wasn’t thinking….”
Carrie chuckled, slipping a supportive arm around Rain’s shoulders. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’re a little nervous—I don’t blame you. It can be a cold, cruel world out there, but don’t you worry. You’re in Mesa Ridge now and nothing bad is going to happen to you here. The sheriff is going to take good care of you and you’re going to like it out there on his ranch. It’s peaceful and beautiful—and he’s got himself some nice-looking horseflesh. Ever been horseback riding?”
“I—I don’t know,” Rain admitted honestly.
“Well, you’ll learn,” Carrie assured her, giving her shoulders a pat. “You’ll learn. Just try not to worry. Everything’s going to be fine.”
“I, uh, I guess I am a little nervous,” Rain confessed, suppressing the desire to straighten the bed linens again. She was getting out of the hospital, taking the first steps toward getting her life back and she should be feeling good about it. Instead she was feeling emotional and upset, like she was on the verge of tears. “I feel so helpless—and I don’t want to be a bother to anyone. I don’t want to impose on the Sheriff and his wi—”
“Well, look at you.” Cruz’s voice boomed loud at the door, drowning out everything else and surprising them both. Rain and Carrie turned as he sailed into the room with a chart tucked under his arm. “I’d say you look like you’re ready for your walking papers.”
“She’s raring to go,” Carrie announced, giving Rain a supportive pat on the back. “We’re just waiting on the sheriff. Have you seen him? He was by the nurses’ station earlier, but I don’t know where he went after that.”
“He’s using the phone,” Cruz said, reaching for Rain’s wrist and taking her pulse. “There was some problem at the office. Gracie’s not working anymore and—”
“All set?” Joe asked, walking into the room.
His dark gaze zeroed in on her from across the room and Rain felt her entire body flush with heat. He was married, so why was looking at her like that, why was there such hunger in his eyes, such yearning? Surely she wasn’t imagining that.
“Any special instructions?” Joe asked, turning to Cruz.
“Just make sure that she gets lots of rest,” Cruz instructed, slipping the chart from under his arm and flipping it open. “And plenty to eat.” He glanced up at Rain as he jotted in the chart. “Which probably means you should avoid anything Joe fixes. I’ve eaten his cooking.”
Rain looked from Cruz to Joe and back again, feeling her cheeks flush even brighter. The teasing embarrassed her considering the sheriff would no doubt turn the mundane chore of her care over to his wife.
“I’ll try to remember that,” she said in a small voice.
“And you’re going to make sure she gets up to Sparks for her appointment with Dr. McGhan,” he said, turning to Joe.
“Thursday at ten-fifteen, right?”
“Right,” Cruz agreed, flipping the chart closed.
“Isn’t there a bus or something I could take?” Rain asked, stepping hesitantly off the bed. She felt helpless and ineffectual standing there and letting others take control of her life. The man and his wife had offered her a place to stay; she didn’t want to replace their kindness by becoming a burden. “I’m putting the sheriff out enough as it is.”
“There’s a bus, but believe me, you don’t want to be on it,” Carrie said with a laugh, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “It would be no place for you. It’s the gamblers’ special that comes through here from Salt Lake.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she insisted, turning to Carrie and then to Joe. “Honestly.”
“You’re not taking the bus,” Joe stated flatly.
“But I hate to inconvenience you any more than I—”
“It’s not an inconvenience.” He sounded almost irritable. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was.”
His sharp tone had her feeling even more foolish and embarrassed. Of course, she wasn’t an inconvenience. She was just part of the job.
“Then maybe there’s something else I could do,” she insisted. “Maybe help around the house?”
Just then his beeper went off and he scowled, reaching down to check the small message it transmitted. “The only thing I need is
someone to answer the phone.”
Suddenly he froze, slowly raising his head and turning to Cruz. “What about restrictions, Doc? Is there anything the lady shouldn’t be doing?”
“I guess that’s up to the lady,” Cruz said, turning to her. “Do what you feel up to, just don’t try to overdo. And don’t let Joe put you to work pitching hay or cleaning stalls.”
“No stalls,” Joe agreed. “But what about telephones?”
Cruz snapped his fingers now. “Gracie!”
Joe looked at Cruz and nodded. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
“Wait!” she demanded, stepping between them. “Have I missed something here? What are you talking about?”
“At my office—the sheriff’s office, our receptionist Gracie is out on maternity leave and I thought, if you’re interested and you feel up it, you might want a part-time job?”
Rain wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or upset. Living at the sheriff’s house would be difficult enough, but working with him might prove to be more than she could handle. Still, the thought of working and keeping busy appealed to her. It would get her out of the house and make her feel a little useful.
“I don’t know about a lot of things,” she said after a moment. “But I think I still remember how to answer a phone.”
“It’s so dry.”
Joe brought the car to a stop at the signal and turned to the woman in the passenger seat. “Did you say something?”
Rain pointed out the window. “I couldn’t help notice, it’s so hot and dry—not a cloud in the sky. Hard to believe just a few days ago it was raining.”
The picture of her appearing out of those driving sheets of rain flashed in his brain. “The weather can be pretty volatile out here when it wants to be.”
Her gaze followed several pedestrians as they crossed in the walk in front of the Jeep. “And Sheriff, I, uh, I wanted to thank you for the clothes. Carrie told me you brought them.”
Joe turned, looking at the sweatshirt and jeans he had taken from the large trunk of clothes Karen had never bothered to take with her. “They’re not much. I had to send your things up to the state crime lab for analysis.”
“Evidence,” she murmured, turning to look out the car window.
“Well, they’re only evidence if it’s determined a crime has been committed,” he pointed out.
“I see,” she said, turning to look out the window again. “Do you think there was?”
He turned, watching as she stared out the window. She’d barely looked at him this morning and their conversation since they’d gotten in the car had little more than idle chitchat.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, didn’t know how he’d thought she would act going home with him for the first time. He’d imagined she would be nervous because God knows he was. And he suspected she might have a few misgivings. But was it so completely out of the realm of possibility that she might also have been just a little bit excited? She was, after all, being released from the hospital. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
“Hard to say,” he said after a moment. “We don’t have a lot to go on at this point.” The signal turned green and he turned and started slowly across the intersection. “We’ll see what we come up with after you meet with the sketch artist tomorrow, but what I’d like, if you’re up to it, is to drive out to the area where I found you. We could try to retrace your steps, maybe see if something looks familiar or if it triggers anything.”
“Absolutely, I’d like that,” she said, turning to him. “And if there is anything else you can think of that might be helpful—I don’t know, look through mug shots, old newspaper reports…whatever—I’m willing to do that, too.” She turned, glancing back out the window. “I’ll do anything to find out who I am.”
For just a moment, there had been a burst of life in her eyes, a look of hope and anticipation and it almost made him feel guilty. Cruz had been adamant about her not getting her hopes up, cautioning her again and again not to try to force herself to remember. He hoped he wasn’t raising her hopes too high by taking her back into the desert.
“Well, like I said, it was just a thought.”
“Were you serious about needing help at the sheriff’s office?” she asked. “Or is this just something to keep me busy?”
He found the fact that she doubted him mildly insulting. “You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you’re very nice and your offer is more than generous. I just don’t want to put you to any more trouble. I really can take care of myself. I don’t want to get in the way.”
Why didn’t she just slap him across the face? “It’s not a matter of getting in the way. And I’m not that nice.”
“Then you really do need help.”
As if on cue, his pager went off. “Help. I need someone to rescue me.” He shot her a glance. “Look, you don’t have to feel obligated. If you’re not interested, it’s no big deal. I just thought—”
“No, no, it’s great,” she insisted, cutting him off. “I want to help.”
“Then it’s settled,” he murmured, feeling as though it were anything but.
“As long as you’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” he insisted. “But you may not be once you see what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
She smiled, but her smile froze and quickly fell. “I just thought of something.” She turned to him. “What if I don’t know how to do anything?”
“Believe me, it doesn’t take a memory to answer the phone,” he assured her. “All you gotta know is how to say ‘hello.’”
“Hello?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
“Hello. Hello,” she said, as though testing the waters. After a moment she nodded. “Yeah, okay.” She turned to him. “Hello. I think I’ve got it.”
The humor that sparkled in her eyes was subtle but undeniable. “The job is yours.”
She smiled, the first time he’d seen her smile all morning, and something went tight in his chest.
She turned away, glancing out the window as they made their way down Main Street. If he had any regrets, any misgivings, it was too late now. He’d had one opportunity after another to distance himself from her and he’d blown past every one. Maybe it was time for him to stop whining and accept some responsibility, accept the fact that for whatever reason, he was compelled to help this woman.
Maybe she was right, maybe he was a nice guy.
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
He glanced at her, ready to say something amusingly sarcastic, but when he saw the look on her face, the words died on his lips. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“Yes, I do,” she said, turning to look at him. “I don’t know if I can tell you what it feels like, not having anything—no clothes, no money, no place to go. It’s more than just frightening, it’s…almost demoralizing.” She stopped and drew in a deep breath, rubbing her palms slowly across her denim-covered thighs. “Thank you for giving me a place, giving me something to do.”
She turned away again.
He wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t even sure if he needed to say anything at all. He could empathize, but the path she walked was a lonely one.
When they reached the end of Main Street, Joe turned the Jeep onto the highway, picking up speed as they headed out the open road. It wouldn’t be long before they reached Wheeler Road, the narrow, two-lane road that headed toward the ranch.
“It must get pretty quiet out here at night,” Rain said after a while.
Joe couldn’t be sure if there was an uneasiness in her voice, or just the normal awkwardness of small talk. “You get used to it. And the desert has its own sounds—crickets and owls and an occasional coyote or two. They can get howling at the moon and make a terrible racket—”
“Coyotes,” she said, sitting up so fast the seat belt nearly strangled her. She turned to him, him, her eyes wide with excitement. “Coyotes. I remember hearing coyotes.”
“Yes! Yes!” she said excitedly, interrupting him again. “That night in the desert. I heard coyotes.” She collapsed back against the seat. “I remember hearing them howling.”
Joe’s gaze darted back and forth from her to the highway. “Was this when you were walking? While it was raining?”
Her smiled faded and she shook her head. “No, it wasn’t raining. It was dark, I can’t…” She let out a groan, pounding a fist against her forehead. “I don’t know, I can’t remember. But I heard them—I remember that. I heard them.” She sat back up and turned to him again. “Do you think this means something? I mean, maybe I’m starting to bring something back.” She squeezed her eyes tight. “Oh, God, wouldn’t that be wonderful? If it could happen just like that, if it just came back.”
It was easy to see what the recollection had done for her, how it had sent her hopes soaring only to leave her frustrated and stymied when she’d hit another brick wall. This is what Cruz had warned them about. The memory had just been there, popping into her head without any prompting—forcing it had done no good at all.
In the overall picture of things, what she had remembered did little to help solve the mystery of her past, but it had revealed something important to him. She must have been in the desert for a while. Coyotes didn’t howl in the rain so she had to have been there since before the storm.
“That would be something,” he said, purposely keeping his tone low-key and even. Could it happen that quickly? Could everything come back and the puzzle be solved as simply as that? “Just remember what Cruz said. You can’t try to force it. It will happen when it happens.”
“I know, I know,” she said, drawing a deep, cleansing breath and resting a hand on her chest. “I shouldn’t get excited, I shouldn’t try to force it. But it was such a strange thing. I mean, suddenly it was just there—as clear as a bell. You mentioned coyotes and bam! I remember hearing the sound of them howling in the distance.”
Rain Dance Page 7
