The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop: The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
about her fingerprints? Have you already run them?”
Nodding, Brady said, “Did that yesterday. No match there. But then she would’ve had to have been in the military, the government or arrested to find them in our database.”
“What about medical progress?” Ethan asked. “Hank tells me that your sister has taken her case. What is Bridget’s medical opinion?”
“That time will heal her. But she can only guess as to how much time.”
“Hmm. Let’s hope her recovery is speedy. In the meantime, the woman has to be connected to someone. Boyfriend. Husband. Family. Someone who cares enough to start a search for her.”
Someone who cares. Ethan’s words jerked Brady back to the everyday reality of his job. Of course there were people out there who cared about Lass, he thought. A woman who looked like her most likely had a special man in her life. And it was Brady’s job to see that she got safely back to that man’s arms.
Chapter Four
Shortly after lunch that same day, Lass’s paper work for her release from the hospital was completed and Brady picked her up in a black pickup truck with a sheriff’s department seal emblazoned on the doors.
The day was warm and bright and as he drove slowly along a mountain highway, Lass felt her spirits lift. It felt wonderful to be out of the confines of the hospital and even more wonderful to know that she wasn’t going to be deposited in a charity ward, where she’d be pushed aside and her plight ignored for those persons with more serious problems.
Turning her gaze away from the passenger window, she glanced over to the man behind the wheel. Brady Donovan was not just a regular deputy, she decided. He was a tall, sexy angel who had rescued her from possible death. If she’d lain on the side of the road throughout the night, she could have succumbed to exposure to the elements or wild animals, particularly black bears. Now he’d come to her rescue again and she wasn’t quite sure why.
“You’re sure that your family won’t mind me staying at their home for a few days?” she asked.
“It’s my home, too,” he reminded her. “And stop worrying. I spoke to my parents this morning. They’re glad to help.”
Lass sighed. Most of last night and this morning, as she’d struggled to remember anything about her life up until a day ago, she’d felt totally disconnected, as though she’d been defeated by something or someone, even before she’d received the whack on her head.
“They must be very generous people to allow a stranger into their home.” Bending her head, she squeezed her eyes shut as tears threatened to fall. “It would be impossible to express my gratitude to them—to you.”
“Forget it, Lass. My family has plenty to give. And they like helping others. They’re that sort of people.”
Raising her head, she glanced his way. Now in the bright light of day, she was getting an even clearer image of the man and she had to admit that the sight of him was a bit breathtaking. Did that mean that she’d not been accustomed to having a sexy man like him for company? If her memory were working normally, would he still look just as special? Something told her that he would and that she’d never encountered a man like him before.
His tawny-colored hair was shaggier than she’d first noticed and subtly streaked with shades of amber, copper and gold, a perfect foil for his dark green eyes. But the rich colors were only a part of what made his looks so striking, she realized. It was his bigger-than-life presence, the personality that simmered behind his twinkling gaze and enigmatic smile.
“Well, I won’t forget this kindness you and your family are showing me. I’ll repay you somehow. I promise.”
A corner of his mouth lifted in a wry grin. “We don’t expect that, Lass. Giving doesn’t mean much if you give only to get something in return. That’s what my mom always taught me.”
Her heart heavy, she gazed out at the desert mountains. They were dotted with twisted juniper, scrubby pinyon pine and clumps of sage. To her right, at the bottom of the mountains, the highway shared part of the valley floor with a river. The Hondo, Brady had called it earlier, was lined with tall poplars, willows and evergreens, while in between the meandering ribbon of water and the roadway, green meadows were covered with grasses and wildflowers. Pretty as the scenery was, nothing about it seemed familiar to her fuddled brain.
“I wonder if I have a mother,” she murmured. “I wonder what mine might have taught me.”
He was silent for a moment and then the two-way radio on the dashboard began to crackle yet again as a busy dispatcher issued information to an officer on call. By the time the female voice had finished, Lass figured Brady’s thoughts had moved on to things other than her miserable plight.
He surprised her by picking up the conversation exactly where Lass had left off. “You’re a young woman, Lass. I’m betting you have a mother somewhere. She’s probably hunting for you right this moment, and so is … your father.”
Lass’s heart winced with a doubt she couldn’t understand. Why did she have this notion that her parents might not be hunting for her? Wasn’t that what normal parents did when their child went missing? Only if they were normal, she mentally pointed out, and God only knew if hers were alive, much less normal.
“I can only hope,” she replied, then forcing her mind to move on, she asked, “Does this area have a name? I’ve noticed we’ve passed a few homesteads.”
“It’s called the Hondo Valley. People around here raise cattle and horses and lots of fruit in the summer. Does that ring a bell?”
She bit back a sigh. “Not really.”
“Well, if you’re not from around here, it probably wouldn’t. And I’m positive you don’t live anywhere close.”
“How could you know that?”
His chuckle was warm and husky and filled Lass with unexpected pleasure.
“‘Cause I know all the pretty women in Lincoln County. And believe me when I say I would know your name.”
Forty minutes from the time they drove away from Sierra General, Brady steered the truck off the highway and onto a graveled dirt road lined with a white board fence and towering Lombardy poplars. Along the way, the land opened up to wide meadows with tall dense grass.
When Lass spotted the first mares and foals grazing along the roadside, she squealed with delight.
“Oh! How perfectly lovely!” Leaning forward, she gazed raptly at the horses and, as she took in their grace and beauty, emotion suddenly overwhelmed her to the point that she had to swallow before she could say another word. “Could we … stop for just a minute, Brady? For a closer look?”
“Sure. We’re not in a hurry.”
He pulled the truck to the side of the road and after carefully helping her to the ground, wrapped his hand firmly around hers, then led her to a spot where the fence was shaded by one of the poplars.
“This is part of the Diamond D’s brood stock,” he explained as they looked out over the meadow dotted with mares and babies at their sides. “And I’ll admit without a speck of modesty that we have some of the finest horses in the southwest.”
“Mmm. I wouldn’t argue with that,” she said as she deliberately fixed her gaze on the horses and tried to ignore the fact that he was still hanging on to her hand. But that was impossible to do when the tangle of their fingers was sending all sorts of hot currents pulsing through her, sensations that she was certain she’d never felt before. Something this strong couldn’t be forgotten, she decided.
“You must like horses,” he observed. “Maybe you have one of your own somewhere.”
She could feel his glance sliding over her and like a magnet it drew her