Читать книгу Deliverance at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 9

Chapter Four

“Let me get this straight,” the patrolman said as they stood in the waiting room at the hospital. “You handcuffed her to a chair to protect her from herself?”

“Some of it was definitely for my own protection, as well. She appeared confused and scared. I couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t go for a more efficient weapon than a tire iron.”

The patrolman finished writing and closed his notebook. “Unless you want to press assault charges...that should cover it.”

Austin shook his head. “How is she?”

“The doctor is giving her liquids and keeping her for observation until we can reach her husband.”

“Her husband?” Austin thought of the hurriedly packed suitcase and recalled that she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring.

“We tracked him down through the car registration.”

“So she is Rebecca Stewart? Her memory has returned?”

“Not yet. But I’m sure her husband will be able to clear things up.” The patrolman stood. “I have your number if we need to reach you.”

Austin stood, as well. He was clearly being dismissed and yet something kept him from turning and walking away. “She seemed...terrified when I found her. Did she say where she was headed before the crash?”

“She still seems fuzzy on that part. But she is in good hands now.” The highway patrolman turned as the doctor came down the hallway and joined them. “Mr. Cardwell is worried about your patient. I assured him she is out of danger,” the patrolman said.

The doctor nodded and introduced himself to Austin. “If it makes you feel better, there is little doubt you saved her life.”

He couldn’t help but be relieved. “Then she remembers what happened?”

“She’s still confused. That’s fairly common in a case like hers.”

The doctor didn’t say, but Austin assumed she had a concussion. Austin couldn’t explain why, but he needed to see her before he left. The highway patrolman had said they’d found her husband by way of the registration in the car, but she’d been so sure that wasn’t her car.

Nor had the highway patrolman been concerned about the baby car seat or the blood in the trunk.

“Apparently the baby is with the father,” the patrolman had told him. “As for the blood in the trunk, there was so little I’m sure there is an explanation her husband can provide.”

So why couldn’t Austin let it go? “I’d like to see her before I leave.”

“I suppose it would be fine,” the doctor said. “Her husband is expected at any time.”

Austin hurried down the hallway to the room the doctor had only exited moments before, anxious to see her before her husband arrived. He pushed on the door slowly and peered in, half fearing that she might not want to see him.

He wasn’t sure what he expected as he stepped into the room. He’d had a short sleepless night at a local motel. He had regretted not taking a straight flight to Bozeman this morning instead of flying into Idaho Falls the day before. Even as he thought it through, he reminded himself that the woman would have died last night if he hadn’t come along when he did.

Austin told himself he’d been at the right place at the right time. So why couldn’t he just let this go?

As the door closed behind him, she sat up in bed abruptly, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Her brown eyes were wide with fear. He was struck by how small she looked. Her unruly mane of curly dark hair billowed out around her pale face, making her look all the more vulnerable.

“My name’s Austin. Austin Cardwell. We met late last night after I came upon your car upside down in the middle of Highway 191.” He touched the wound on the back of his head where she’d nailed him. “You remember hitting me?”

She looked horrified at the thought, verifying what he already suspected. She didn’t remember.

“Can you tell me your name?” He’d hoped that she would be more coherent this morning, but as he watched her face, it was clear she didn’t know who she was any more than she had last night.

She seemed to search for an answer. He saw the moment when she realized she couldn’t remember anything—even who she was. Panic filled her expression. She looked toward the door behind him as if she might bolt for it.

“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “The doctor said memory loss is pretty common in your condition.”

“My condition?”

“From the bump on your head, you hit it pretty hard in the accident.” He pointed to a spot on his own temple. She raised her hand to touch the same spot on her temple and winced.

“I don’t remember an accident.” She had pulled her arms out from under the covers. He noticed the bruises on her upper arms. They were half-moon shaped, like fingerprints—as if someone had gripped her hard. There was also a cut on her arm that he didn’t think had happened during her car accident.

She saw him staring at her arms. When she looked down and saw the bruises, she quickly put her arms under the covers again. If anything, she looked more frightened than she had earlier.

“You don’t remember losing control of your car?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t know if this helps, but the registration and proof of insurance I found in your car, along with the driver’s license I found in the purse, says your name is Rebecca Stewart,” he said, watching to see if there was any recognition in her expression.

“That isn’t my name. I would know my own name when I heard it, wouldn’t I?”

Maybe. Maybe not. “You were wearing a watch...”

“The doctor said they put it in the safe until I was ready to leave the hospital.”

“It was engraved with: ‘To Gillian with all my love.’” He saw that the words didn’t ring any bells. “Are you Gillian?”

She looked again at the door, her expression one of panic.

“Don’t worry. It will all come back to you,” he said, trying to calm her even though he knew there might always be blanks that she could never fill in if he was right and she had a concussion. He wished there was something he could say to comfort her. She looked so frightened. “Fortunately a highway patrolman came along when he did last night.”

“Patrolman?” Her words wavered and she looked even more terrified, making him wonder if he might be right and that she’d stolen the car, the purse and the watch. She’d said none of it belonged to her. Maybe she was telling the truth.

But why was she driving someone else’s car? If so, where was the car’s owner and her baby? This woman’s fear of the law seemed to indicate that something was very off here. What if this woman wasn’t who they thought she was?

“Where am I?” she asked, glancing around the hospital room.

“Didn’t the doctor tell you? You’re in the hospital.”

“I meant, where am I...?” She waved a hand to encompass more than the room.

“Oh,” he said and frowned. “Bozeman.” When that didn’t seem to register, he added, “Montana.”

One eyebrow shot up. “Montana?”

It crossed his mind that a woman who lived in Helena, Montana, wouldn’t be confused about what state she was in. Nor would she be surprised to find herself still in that state.

He reminded himself that the knock on her head could have messed up some of the wiring. Or maybe she’d been that way before.

Her gaze came back to him. She was studying him intently, sizing him up. He wondered what she saw and couldn’t help but think of his former girlfriend, Tanya, and the argument they’d had just before he’d left Texas.

“Haven’t you ever wanted more?” Tanya hadn’t looked at him. She’d been busy throwing her things into a large trash bag. When she’d moved in with him, she’d moved in gradually, bringing her belongings in piecemeal.

“I’m only going to be gone a week,” he’d said, watching her clean out the drawers in his apartment, wondering if this was it. She’d threatened to leave him enough times, but she never had. Maybe this was the time.

He had been trying to figure out how he felt about that when she’d suddenly turned toward him.

“Did you hear what I said?”

Obviously not. “What?”

“This business with your brothers...” She did her eye roll. He really hated it when she did that and she knew it. “If it isn’t something to do with Texas Boys Barbecue...”

He could have pointed out that the barbecue joint she was referring to was a multimillion-dollar business, with more than a dozen locations across Texas, and it paid for this apartment.

But he’d had a feeling that wasn’t really what this particular argument was about, so he’d said, “Your point?” even though he’d already known it.

“You’re too busy for a relationship. At least that is your excuse.”

“You knew I was busy before you moved in.”

“Ever ask yourself why your work is more important than your love life?” She hadn’t given him time to respond. “You want to know what I think? I think Austin Cardwell goes through life saving people because he’s afraid of letting himself fall in love.”

He wasn’t afraid. He just hadn’t fallen in love the way Tanya had wanted him to. “Glad we got that figured out,” he’d said.

Tanya had flared with anger. “That’s all you have to say?”

And he’d made it worse by shrugging, something he knew she hated. He hadn’t had the time or patience for this kind of talk at that moment. “Maybe we should talk about this when I get back from Montana.”

She’d shaken her head in obvious disgust. “That is so like you. Put things off and maybe the situation will right itself. You missed your own brother’s wedding and you don’t really care if they open a barbecue restaurant in Montana or not. But instead of being honest, you ignore the problem and hope it goes away until finally they force you to come to Montana. For once, I would love to see you just take a stand. Make a decision. Do something.”

“I missed my brother’s wedding because I was on a case. One that almost got me killed, you might remember.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I remember. I stayed by your bedside for three days.”

He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “What I do is important.”

“More important than me.” She’d stood, hands on hips, waiting.

He’d known what she wanted. A commitment. The problem was, he wasn’t ready. And right then, he’d known he would never be with Tanya.

“This is probably for the best,” he’d said, motioning to the bulging trash bag.

Tears flowing, she’d nodded. “Don’t bother to call me if and when you get back.” With that, she had grabbed up the bag and stormed to the door, stopping only long enough to hurl his apartment key at his head.

“Where are my clothes?”

Austin blinked, confused for a moment, he’d been so lost in his thoughts. He focused on the woman in the hospital bed. “You can’t leave. Your husband is on his way.”

Panic filled her expression. She tried to get out of the bed. As he moved to her bedside to stop her, he heard the door open behind him.