by Bonnie Vanak
“No.” She blinked hard, trying to focus.
“Do you know who I am?”
She stared at the concerned, handsome face of the man at her bedside. “No.” Panic rose up, threatened to squeeze her chest. “What happened?”
“You’re in the Red Ridge Community Hospital ER. You suffered a head injury.” The hand covering hers squeezed gently. “I’m Brayden Colton. Your brother. You don’t remember me at all?”
Brother? She blinked again, hating this void in her mind, the fact that everything felt so foggy.
Her gaze flickered to the other man in the room. Tall, handsome, his dark gaze burning with intensity. The man who’d called her “sleeping beauty.”
He shoved a hand through his already-rumpled hair. “I’m West. West Brand. You don’t remember me?”
Quinn started to shake her head, but it hurt too much. “Give me a mirror.”
West hesitated.
“Now. I have to see.”
They hunted one down, and West handed it to her. She stared at her reflection.
Two large purpling bruises, one eye swollen. “Why can’t I remember?” Quinn began to cry.
“Easy,” said the man who was her brother. “Try not to move around too much. I’m going to get Shane.”
With a hard glance at the man named West, he pointed to her. “Stay with her. Don’t question her yet. Just watch her.”
Nausea curled in her stomach. She put a hand over her mouth. “I don’t feel good.”
The tall, handsome man searched around, found a small pan and held it under her mouth. She waved it aside. It hurt too much to throw up.
West’s palm covered hers. Warm. Strong. Caring. Why did he care? He wasn’t family.
Quinn closed her eyes.
“No, honey, don’t go to sleep. I know it must hurt, but you’ve got to stay awake.”
She opened her eyes, studied him. Dark hair, round chin, sculpted mouth. Handsome, strong face. Expressive brown eyes filled with worry. Worry about her? What was she to him?
The curtains jerked aside and another stranger entered. Quinn blinked hard as he introduced himself as Shane, her other brother.
“Do we live together at home? Where are my parents? Why aren’t they here?” she asked.
Brayden and Shane exchanged glances. “We’re actually half siblings. Our mutual dad is Rusty Colton. He’s...different,” Brayden told her.
West snorted.
“Your mother is Marcia and she moved to Denver a few years ago when you opened your catering business. She works in sales for a tour company. I called her, but she’s out of the country for the next ten days,” Shane said.
“Don’t worry, Quinn. We’re here for you,” Brayden added.
Brothers. At least she had some family. But this tall, muscular guy with the worried dark eyes seemed even more concerned than her brothers.
The curtains parted and a man in blue scrubs and a white coat walked inside. A bright splash of red dotted his scrubs.
He checked the bandage on her head, looked at a chart.
“Miss Colton, I’m Dr. Cairns, the attending ER physician. You were seriously injured.” Dr. Cairns was young, had horn-rimmed glasses and a brisk, professional air. “We’re running some tests to see the extent of the damage.”
The doctor started rattling off technical terms that made her head ache even more. Quinn held up a hand. “How was I injured?”
Gaze flicking away, he glanced at the man sitting by her. “The police, and your family, can fill you in. I’ve scheduled a CT scan for you. The technician will be up shortly to take you upstairs.”
Dr. Cairns pulled out a slim flashlight, shone it in her eyes. It made her wince.
“Pupils dilating and reacting normally. That’s good,” he said. “Do you know your name?”
“Quinn...Colton.” Surely her last name was Colton if these were her brothers.
Next, the doctor asked her what month and year it was, which she got right, but she had no idea what day it was.
“Where do you live?”
She put a hand to her head. “Here... Red Ridge? I think.”
“Do you know where you work? Anything else?” the doctor asked in his grilling, calm voice.
“No.” Tears burned the back of her throat. “What’s wrong with me?”
“Standard for a serious head injury.” He patted her hand, looked at her brothers. “I have to check on that trauma.”
Then the doctor left. Her brothers followed, like puppies trailing their mother. She didn’t like being left in the dark, no information, no one willing to tell her what had happened.
The tall man named West did not leave. He kept staring at her. He must know her. But he meant nothing to her.
“Why are you here?”
His dark brows knit together. “I...found you, honey. You don’t remember me at all?” He took her hand again, and the sensation was comforting, if odd.
Strangers holding her hand.
West lowered his voice. “I’m West Brand. FBI, working temporarily for the Red Ridge Police Department. And your fiancé.”
Now her head hurt even more. She was engaged? “I’m sorry, I don’t know you. Can my brothers confirm we’re going to marry?”
This man might say he had a relationship with her, but at least family she could trust. West? Unknown.
West looked uncomfortable. His gaze flicked to the closed curtains. “They don’t know. No one in town knew we were dating.”
An even bigger mystery, and right now the pain was too intense to contemplate it.
“What happened to me?” she whispered. It hurt too much to form many words.
Silence draped the air, with only the sound of beeping machines and the aching pain in a mind that remembered nothing of her past.
“You’re Quinn Colton,” he finally said. “You own Good Eats, a catering company with a kitchen on Main Street. You live above the store.”
A warm smile touched his full mouth. “You cook froufrou food.”
Nice smile. Such a good-looking man. She tried to think. Vague memories of cooking, a little apartment over a kitchen, flickered into her mind. Quinn Colton.
Trying to remember hurt her head. She wished the pounding ache would cease. Maybe then she could think straight.
Maybe then she’d remember this tall, handsome man who claimed to be her future husband. And what happened to land her here?
“You’re not telling me why I’m in the hospital?” she asked.
“Try to rest,” he told her gently. “I’ll tell you soon.”
He was no help. For all she knew, he could be someone other than the love of her life. Wouldn’t she remember such a love?
With considerable effort, Quinn turned her head away from West Brand.
“Please leave,” she said dully. “I want to be alone.”
* * *
He’d known it was going to be bad, but not like this. And damn, it hurt deep inside, getting rejected.
Quinn was obviously distressed. Remembered nothing of him. Gone was the trust, the love, the affection.
Well, she was alive, and he’d find solace in that fact. She’d get better.
Outside the room, West paced, checking his phone for voice mails, for texts. For any information the others on the unit had found and shared.
This is personal now.
Her brothers left the nurses’ station and joined him.
“What did the doctor say?” he demanded.
Brayden glanced at him. “Nothing yet. We’re still waiting for him to finish with that trauma case. We didn’t give her details on the explosion. No reason to upset her even more.”
Not exactly procedure. Were Quinn an ordinary witness, West knew the others would grill her relentlessly until family objected. This time t
hey were the family, and the Coltons were keeping to themselves.
“Good,” West told them. “I didn’t, either. She’ll find out soon enough. You sure there’s tight enough security in this hospital?”
Brayden’s expression tightened. “There will be. I called for a friend to guard her.”
Dr. Cairns came out of another room, saw them.
West didn’t like the grim look on the doctor’s face. “Is she going to make it?” he blurted out before her brothers could speak.
Dr. Cairns raised his brows, but nodded. “However, there are complications.”
“What kind?” West asked.
Dr. Cairns glanced at Brayden, who nodded.
“Miss Colton has a concussion. The blow to her head has caused retrograde amnesia.”
West’s heart dropped to his stomach. “What can she remember?”
“Nothing significant. You heard. She knows the year, and her name, where she lives. Little else. Nothing prior to the injury.”
“So much for being a witness,” Brayden murmured. “How long will it take to clear up?”
The doctor shrugged. “We’ll run more tests, keep her here for a while. I’ve scheduled a CT scan. Until I receive the results, there’s no telling when she’ll regain her memory. The human brain is a delicate, tricky matter. It could be hours. Or days. Or even months.”
Curling his hands into fists to hide their shaking, he turned away. He’d give her time, but she had to remember him. Remember their sessions of hot loving, and the sweet kisses they’d shared. Remember how he’d professed all his feelings.
Remember their engagement.
How could she forget all that? West blew out a breath. Worse, he didn’t know if the bomber intended to kill her as well as Tia.
Quinn still remained in danger. Maybe her own damn sister wanted to blow her up. In that case, everything became even more complicated.
As the doctor left, he gestured to Quinn’s room. “I’m going to question her. With the right questions, she may regain some memory.”
Shane’s mouth dropped open. Brayden started to protest. He knew what they thought—that this was business.
Sorry, sweetheart. The cat’s about to be released from its bag.
West met their angry gazes head-on. “Quinn isn’t a witness to me. She’s much more. We’ve been...dating. Seeing each other.”
Yeah, he had to tell them something, but the full truth? Not now.
Both brothers blinked in surprise. “Wow,” Shane murmured.
“I had no idea,” Brayden told him.
Encouraged, he jerked his head toward the nurses’ station, where nurses and doctors talked and worked on computers. “Appreciate you both keeping this on the QT. Quinn and I decided to be private about our relationship because of the Groom Killer. Just in case the killer decides to start targeting other couples in town. Or women who date cops.”
He gave them a level look. “She might have been a target if that were the case and someone found out we’re together.”
Both brothers visibly relaxed. “Good idea to keep it quiet,” Brayden said.
“No offense,” Shane told him.
West gave a sharp nod. Maybe they were family, but, damn it, he loved Quinn.
He’d taken charge here, and the brothers had let him. They understood. Quinn was his woman.
He went into the room again. Quinn picked absently at the sheet covering her. Tight lines of strain showed on her freckled face. West couldn’t imagine the pain she suffered.
Showing no interest in him, she muttered, “Can’t I get something for my head to stop pounding?”
West pulled up a chair next to her stretcher. “Not until the CT scan, honey. They’ll be here soon and then you can get the good stuff.”
He pulled out a small notepad from his back pocket. “I’m a K-9 bomb specialist. It’s my job to analyze evidence, comb through crime scenes. I have some questions for you, Quinn. Do you remember anything about arriving at Tia Linwicki’s real estate office?”
She blinked. “Is that where I was? Where the accident happened?”
Locking gazes with her, he watched for any sign of recognition.
“It wasn’t an accident, Quinn. Someone set off a bomb in Tia’s office. You got caught in the blast. Tia’s dead.”
Tears filled her eyes, making his chest ache. He hated upsetting her, but she had to know. “Oh my God. Someone was killed?”
“But you weren’t. You’re alive.”
“Did I know her?”
He nodded. “She was a good client of yours. You brought her lunch every day. Vegan meals. You were on your way to deliver it in person when the blast happened. You’re probably the last person to see Tia before the explosion, which is why I need to ask you some questions.”
He softened his voice. “I know you’re in pain and this isn’t easy. Maybe you can remember something that will help us in the investigation. Do you know anything about Pine Paradise? Did Tia say anything to you about the cabins?”
“Cabins?”
“Rentals. You had rented a cabin and invited Demi to join you there. Do you recall anything about Demi?”
“No. I don’t know anything about a Demi. But a cabin. That sounds familiar.”
West leaned close, searching her expression. “We talked about renting a cabin together.”
“I remember...something.” She stared at his lips. “Not a cabin. Kissing... Someone was kissing me. He had the most amazing mouth. It was...wow.”
West glanced at the closed curtains, and felt a flush heat his body. “That was me, Quinn. I’d suggested getting away to a cabin for a weekend, just the two of us.”
“Some kiss.” She studied him, and put a hand to her head. “I remember that.”
Her mouth pursed in a cute little pout, the type he adored. Couldn’t help himself. Hell, maybe it would trigger something.
West leaned down, gently pressed his lips against hers. Only for a moment.
A sigh fled her as he eased away. And then she looked intrigued, and then scared.
“I don’t remember anything else.”
Okay. That was a sweet memory. Not useful for the investigation, but encouraging. Because if she remembered that kiss, perhaps she’d recall other little details related to Tia. And eventually, Demi.
But then an orderly arrived to take Quinn upstairs for her CT scan. Questioning her further would have to wait.
West checked his watch. He’d return to the crime scene, get briefed by the others and return later.
Chapter 7
Austin Jones. She kept repeating the name to herself as the man with glasses talked with her.
It was scribbled on the notebook she kept on the bed tray. Otherwise, she wouldn’t remember who visited.
Having a visitor who professed to be her best friend was wonderful. Quinn still felt terrible, but she was determined to recover, and determined to find out what happened to her and why. Last night she’d managed to sleep in an opiate-induced haze. Nightmares assaulted her—whiteness, a huge bang, flying through the air and never landing, her head splitting apart...
Darkness.
Shaking, she’d awakened with sweat dampening the hospital gown, her palms cold and clammy. Quinn forced herself to go back to sleep.
Only to experience another dream. She was naked, rolling in bed with a dark-haired man who kissed her as if his last breath depended on it. Pleasure shot through her like a rocket, such incredible passion. She had never felt anything like it.
Quinn had awoken from that dream sweating for a different reason. For a long time, she’d remained staring at the ceiling, trying to find an anchor.
The morose, but friendly man now in her hospital room claimed to be her business partner.
She wrote that down, as well. And the name of her bus
iness—Good Eats.
Austin was the guy who secured all the accounts for the catering business. The catering business that was losing money, he informed her with a sad face.
He’d come today to visit, two days after her “accident” and the first day she stayed in a regular hospital room.
No one but her brothers and West was allowed in ICU, where she’d been transferred after the ER. Quinn had spent one night there. Fortunately, the doctor had decided she was recovering nicely, and had her moved to the third floor. Private room. No nurses constantly hovering, checking her every five minutes. Her nurse helped her out of bed earlier today to sit in the chair. Quinn felt proud of herself as she’d walked up and down the hall, her nurse at her side in case she suffered a dizzy spell.
The earlier exercise left her exhausted.
Quinn listened as Austin talked. Left wrist taped up tight—no broken bones, only a sprain—cuts and bruises on her body, she ached, but the pain was manageable. She felt fortunate to be alive after what happened, for Austin told her things West did not.
The bomb blast leveled much of the building. Knowing how close she’d come to punching out made Quinn’s hands shake as she reached for the glass of water, took a sip through the straw.
Much as she hated the constant interruptions with nurses coming in all the time to check on her, the hospital felt safe. The room offered a window view of the town she no longer remembered. Earlier, her brother Brayden had informed her they’d paid for privacy and an off duty cop to stay outside her room at night.
During the day, with all the nurses and orderlies running about, no one would threaten her, Brayden assured.
The CT scan showed she had no serious brain damage. The neurologist felt confident she would recover with rest and time.
Pen in hand, Quinn scribbled notes as Austin talked. When he finally came up for air, she asked him the burning question.
“Austin, who exactly is Demi Colton and why would the police search for her? Did she set off the bomb that hurt me and killed Tia?”
Austin squirmed in his chair. “Um, no one knows who set off the bomb, Quinn. The police are investigating. As for Demi Colton, that’s something your brothers should answer.”
