The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop: The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop. Stella BagwellЧитать онлайн книгу.
some of the employees will remember seeing you there last Sunday.”
Brady was being so kind and positive the least she could do was be hopeful and optimistic, too. But that was rather difficult to do when every path her mind took, it ran into a black wall.
“But how will that help, Brady? More than likely I didn’t give my name to anyone.”
“Probably not. But just having someone witness seeing you in a certain place is a big start. If we can confirm that you were at the track that will give us a starting place. From there we can try to trace your steps forward and backward.”
She gave him the bravest smile she could muster. “Okay. I trust you.”
He chuckled. “Really? Then you’re the first woman who ever has.”
Was he saying she was gullible where he was concerned? It didn’t matter. As far as her missing person case was concerned, she had to trust him. As a man, it shouldn’t matter. Even if he wasn’t involved with one special woman, she was in no position to get her feelings tangled up with him. With her past a blank, her future could be nothing but uncertain.
Not really knowing what to reply to his sardonic remark, she sipped her coffee and waited for him to take the conversation elsewhere.
“So what are you going to do today? Sit in a stuffed armchair and read a book?”
Wondering if he was serious, she glanced at him. “I have amnesia, not paralysis.”
A dimple came and went in his cheek. “Well, if reading sounds too boring you can get Grandma to tell you stories about when she and Grandpa first came here. She has some real humdingers.”
“I’m sure. She’s quite a colorful woman. But I already have something planned. Later this morning Dallas is taking me over to her stables to have a look around.”
He groaned. “Listen, Lass, if you let her, Dallas will drive you crazy talking about all her kids and horses and work. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to tell her to hush and bring you home.”
Home. Funny how he said it that way, she thought. As though this place was her home, too. The idea touched her and yet at the same time it made her feel a bit weepy. Somewhere there had to be walls and floors and rooms that had made up her home. Had anyone lived in it with her? Had she been loved? The way the Donovans loved each other?
“I’m sure Dallas and I will get on just fine,” she told him. “I like her very much.”
“Well, as much as I like sitting here with you and seeing you in that pretty red thing you’re wearing, I’ve got to head to work.” He rose to his feet, but instead of heading toward the door, he picked up the thermos and refilled the china cup she was balancing on her knee.
His remark about her gown had her eyes flying downward and she realized with a start that the sheet had slipped to expose her bodice. Thankfully, the paper-thin silk was still covering her breasts.
With a tiny gasp, she started to reach for the sheet, but realized the movement was causing the coffee to slosh dangerously near the rim of the cup.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a little laugh, then taking pity on her, started toward the door. “You look beautiful. Just the way I imagined you would.” With his hand on the knob, he gave her one last glance. “Unless an emergency comes up, I’ll see you later this evening. And who knows, by then someone searching for you might contact the sheriff’s department.”
“I guess that could happen,” she said, while wondering why she couldn’t muster up more enthusiasm over the idea.
“Sure it could,” he said cheerfully. “And then all your problems will be solved.”
He gave her a little salute then stepped out the door. Once it clicked behind him, Lass’s shoulders sagged against the pillows. Would finding her past really solve all her problems, she wondered.
Somehow she didn’t think so. Something kept swirling around in her brain, some dark elusive thought that kept whispering the words danger and fear.
Later that morning, dressed in her own boots, and the jeans and blouse that the maid had laundered for her, she climbed into a pickup truck with Dallas and the two of them headed south on a graveled road toward a ridge of desert mountains.
“Looks like we’re going into the wilderness,” Lass commented. “I thought your stable was probably located close to the highway. For convenience.”
Smiling, Dallas shook her head. “When I first got the idea to build the stables, I knew I wanted it to be far away from the things that most town kids see every day. Like concrete, asphalt and the whiz of vehicles. I wanted it to be an escape for them.” She jerked the steering wheel to avoid a pothole. “I admit that the trip back here isn’t like a drive to the country club. But I believe all in all, it’s worth it for the children.” She glanced at Lass. “I guess this is a silly question, but do you think you have children or a child of your own?”
Sighing, Lass stared out the window at the passing desert landscape. Instinctively, she felt she’d come from a place where huge trees shaded deep green lawns. Yet when she thought of something personal, like a husband or children, her mind revolted and turned as blank as a clean blackboard.
“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself, Dallas. And when I try to remember if I ever held a baby of my own …” She paused and shook her head miserably. “I don’t feel as though I’ve ever had a child. Dear God, I hope there’s not a baby out there somewhere crying for me and I have no way of knowing—of getting back to him or her.”
Brady’s sister nodded grimly. “Yes. I can see where that thought would be torturous.”
“Bridget did say that it’s unlikely I’ve given birth. Still, that doesn’t mean there isn’t a child out there waiting for me.”
Three miles from the Diamond D ranch yard, beyond the mountain ridge, two huge barns and several smaller buildings were erected in a meadow not far from a small creek. Dallas wasted no time in taking Lass through the barn where the horses were stalled, the tack and feed kept and the outside riding arena. Because the day was growing very warm, Dallas had decided to move the riders to a smaller, indoor arena where the temperature was regulated.
Whenever they stepped inside, Lass was surprised to see several stable assistants had children already mounted and moving slowly over the carefully raked ground. Some had outward problems that were obvious to any onlooker, like leg braces or a missing limb. Others suffered the less obvious, such as mental and emotional handicaps. But to Lass’s delight, they were all smiling and having a good time.
“This is wonderful!” Lass exclaimed as she twisted her head in an effort to take everything in. “The children appear to love it!”
Dallas’s eyes twinkled with pride. “They do. And the interaction with the horses helps them in ways you wouldn’t believe. I hope while you’re here you’ll get a chance to see all the positives that go on here,” she said.
“I think I’m seeing it right now,” Lass told her.
Taking her by the arm as though she’d known her for years, Dallas urged her forward. “C’mon and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
Much later, while Dallas went to deal with a few of the more problematic riders, Lass was content to find a seat on a hay bale behind the fenced arena. She was concentrating on the children and watching the interaction between them and Dallas, when a slight movement caught her eye.
Turning her head slightly, Lass saw a tall, dark-haired man tethering a white horse to a hitching post. There was nothing unusual or out of sorts with the man or the animal and she was on the verge of turning her attention back toward the arena when images suddenly began to flash in front of her eyes.
A steel-gray horse wearing a bright red blanket, a saddle being tossed upon its back. A tall, faceless man in tan chinos, his hand gripping her wrist.