High Lonesome (3 page)

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Authors: Stacey Coverstone

BOOK: High Lonesome
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“How did we get on this subject?” Joanna pulled a stick of gum from the pocket of her jacket and offered him one. “Buddy and I are history,” she reminded him. “Our relationship ended years ago. It’s about time you stop worrying what he thinks. He doesn’t care that we’re together.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Scott stuck the gum in his mouth, wadded up the paper and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

“Scott, you and I have been going out for almost a year now. Buddy cares about both of us and wants us to be happy. He and I were not meant for each other. We both realized that and ended our marriage before either of us got hurt. He accepts that you and I are together now.”

Scott flashed a half-hearted grin. “I’m not convinced you know your ex as well as you think you do.”

“I know him better than anyone, and that includes you.” She stabbed her finger into his chest. “And I know he and I were too young and impetuous when we married. It was a big mistake. That’s the one thing we ever agreed on. Neither of us knew what true love really was.”

“And you do now?”

“Yes. I know the
exact
type of man I want and need now.” She leaned in close and nuzzled Scott’s neck. “Speaking of wants and needs…As I recall, we have a date planned for tonight. Will you be getting that woman a room at the motel in town?”

He backed away from her touch. Annoyance flared in his stomach at Joanna’s insensitivity. “No. She’s going to stay here. Since I’m the one who found her, it’s up to me to keep her safe. Someone most likely did this to her on purpose— you said so yourself. He or she might still be after her. I’m not about to leave her alone in some crummy motel.”

Joanna grabbed his hand. “Yes, I did say that. It doesn’t make you responsible, honey. She’s very lucky you came along when you did, but you did what any good citizen would. You opened your home to her and you’re bringing her in for tests. She can’t expect more than that. She’s a stranger. Hand her off to Buddy this afternoon and let him do his job. Let him take care of her.”

“Hand her off?” Scott shook his head, unbelieving Joanna’s cold attitude. “She’s not a pair of used shoes. I’m sure she doesn’t expect anything, but the poor girl doesn’t even know her own name. She’s scared to death. Carmen and I will look after her until Buddy locates her family, or someone who can identify her.”

Rolling her lower lip out, Joanna feigned a pout. “That person upstairs is not a girl, Scott. She’s a full-grown woman. I don’t think I like the idea of her sleeping in your bed, either.”

Joanna had a way of getting his ire up, but he didn’t want to argue. He snaked an arm around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ve never seen you jealous before. You’re always so confident and sure of yourself. What’s all this about?”

“I don’t know. I suppose it’s because she’s quite pretty, and she might consider you her knight in shining armor. Since you rescued her, she’ll feel indebted. I’m not comfortable with that.”

Scott squeezed her waist and chuckled. “I’m no knight. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“A lot of men are attracted to helpless women.” Joanna eyed him.

“I’m not one of them. You’re far from helpless. Besides, this lady is not that way by choice.”

“You feel sorry for her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. Someone beat her up, dumped her in the desert and left her for dead. Don’t you?” She didn’t answer—just pressed her breasts against his chest and moved her fingers through his shaggy hair.

Joanna sure knew how to push his buttons. “She
is
lucky I found her,” Scott said stiffly, “because I’m not the kind of man to look the other way when someone’s in trouble. We’ve known each other all our lives, Jo. You know that about me.”

She shrugged away from him and frowned. “Of course I know. You’ve taken care of other people your entire life.”

He leveled a solemn gaze at her. “I’ve had to.”

“I realize that,” she responded quickly, “but you finally have your own life to live, Scott. And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a part of it, limited as it may be.”

His brow puckered. “I don’t understand where this attitude is coming from, Jo. You’re a doctor. Of all people, you should be understanding and sympathetic. Instead, you’re coming off like a jealous teenage girl, and I have to say, it’s not becoming.”

Her eyes flashed and she opened her mouth to retaliate, but the look on his face must have given her pause. The blaze in his temper dared her to go on. He was generally mild mannered and easy going, but he could get fired up when pushed. She clamped her mouth shut.

Instead, she snuggled close again and purred, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just tired, and a little jealous. I’ll admit it. Walking in and seeing a woman in your bed threw me for a loop. It’s been so long since
I’ve
shared your bed. I’ve been missing you. Will you forgive me?” She placed her lips against his cheek and let them linger for a couple of seconds. Backing away, she scrunched her nose and complained, “You need a shave, darlin’.”

Scott put his hand at the small of her back and guided her to the driveway where she had parked her car, a red Audi Roadster.

“Do us both a favor and admit it,” she hounded. “You think she’s beautiful, too.”

“Oh, Joanna, please. I hadn’t even noticed.” He opened the car door and thanked her again for rushing out. “I’ll see you this afternoon at three. Okay?”

“Okay.” She climbed in, not bothering to pull down her skirt when it shimmied up her thigh, and slammed the door.

He leaned in and they shared a brief kiss. Then Scott watched her put the convertible in gear and speed down the drive, kicking up rocks in her wake. “Slow down!” he hollered through the dust.

Joanna stuck her arm out the window and gave him a backhanded wave.

He entered the house and tromped up the stairs, feeling guilty about lying to Joanna. The truth was he
was
attracted to the woman ensconced in his bed. But more than that—strange as it seemed—he’d felt not just a physical connection, but also a strong emotional bond to her the moment he’d laid eyes on her. It unnerved him. How could a perfect stranger cause his heart to race the way it was right now? And why was he imagining what it’d be like to kiss her?

Even though the bedroom door was open, and it was
his
room, Scott knocked on the door just the same, out of courtesy. He peeked in and discovered the old iron bed empty.

Carmen stepped out of the master bathroom like it was hers. “I hope you don’t mind, but the lady asked if she could take a bath. She said she felt grimy, and she wanted to wash her hair. I ran a bath and got her some clean towels.”

“I should have thought of it myself,” Scott admitted.

“Men don’t think like women,” Carmen replied as she passed by. “Come on out of here. Go unload your grain sacks. Let her have some privacy.”

“Okay, okay. You’re getting bossier as you grow older, you know? Doesn’t she need some clean clothes to change into when she’s done?”


Si
, Mr. Scott. She needs clothes. I’m going to throw away those rags she came in here with.”

“Don’t do that,” he said. “The sheriff might want to test them. Maybe he can take DNA from them. That could identify her.”

“You’re right. I wasn’t thinking this time,” Carmen confessed. “As for the clean clothes, I know where there is a closet full of things she could borrow.”

A dull ache pulsed through Scott’s veins.

Carmen must have noted the shadow that passed across his face—the face she’d seen change from lanky young boy to the man he was now. She lowered her voice. “If you approve, I’ll pick out a few basics. She’s about the same size as Maggie, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Go ahead and get her what she needs to look presentable. I’ll buy her some new clothes later when we go to town.”

“She will appreciate that, Mr. Scott. She seems like a real sweet person.” Carmen gave him a tender hug before leaving the bedroom.

Pausing in the doorframe, he heard a soft sound coming from behind the bathroom door. Listening, he heard the drip…drip…drip of the hot water faucet he hadn’t yet gotten around to fixing. He tried to imagine how his guest was feeling and what she was thinking, all alone in an unfamiliar place, not knowing what was going to happen to her and dependant on total strangers to protect and take care of her.

He took a step out the door and stopped. She was humming. It was barely audible, but as he listened, he could make out a familiar tune. The lyrical sound lilted under the bathroom door. He closed his eyes and allowed the music to transport him back to a time when his heart was full and the future was bright. It had been so long since he’d heard such a sweet sound.

Frozen, he listened and recalled the past. Maggie always hummed when she mucked the stalls or cleaned the house. She hummed her favorite country songs. Later, those country tunes were replaced by lullabies.

Scott let the peaceful feeling wash over him. When the humming abruptly stopped, he opened his eyes, spun on his heel, and took the stairs down two at a time, hoping she hadn’t sensed him eavesdropping. Cruising into his office, he flipped open his cell phone and punched in Buddy’s number.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

She ran the warm, soapy washcloth across her aching body. Squeezing the rag over each shoulder, she watched the lather slither down her arms. Staring at the discolored bruise glaring at her from the inside of her arm, she recoiled after touching it. When she laid her head on the back of the tub, the questions swam around in her mind.

What happened to me? Why can’t I remember who I am, or where I’m from? How did I get hurt? Was it an accident, or did someone do this to me on purpose? Why wasn’t I carrying any ID? Is anyone looking for me?

Her body relaxed after a while, and the image of the rancher’s face floated in front of her. Amnesia couldn’t erase the intuition she sensed about him. Even though she’d been dazed and in a weakened state, she’d seen the kindness in his blue eyes and felt it in his touch. Although there was much for her to be concerned about, she knew she’d be safe in his home under his care and protection. Knowing nothing about Scott Landry, it was impossible not to feel he was a man of integrity and trustworthiness. After all, he’d exhibited those qualities within the first ten minutes of their meeting.

The water sloshed as she leaned back and dunked her head into it. It felt wonderful to lather her long hair with the fruit-scented shampoo. She scrubbed her scalp until it tingled, rinsed her hair, then pulled the plug and watched the water swirl down the drain as she stepped out onto the bath rug.

The aspirin had taken effect and her head had stopped throbbing. She reached for the fluffy white towels the Mexican lady had hung on the rack. After wrapping her head in one towel and drying off with the other, she was starting to feel human again.

There was a rap on the door and Carmen’s pleasant voice called out to her. “Ma’am, I’ve brought some fresh clothes for you. I’ll leave them on the bed.”

“Thank you.” She peeked out from behind the bathroom door.

“Do you feel better?” Carmen asked, as she spread an outfit out on the bed.

“Yes. Like a brand new person.”

The two women looked at each other and then broke out laughing.

“I see you didn’t lose your sense of humor along with your memory,” the cook chuckled. She shuffled to the door with one hand on her hip. “I hope those things fit. Take your time dressing and come downstairs when you feel up to it.”

“You’ve been so kind, missus...”

“I’m not a missus. I was once, but it didn’t work out. Just call me Carmen.”

She smiled. “Okay. Carmen, it is. Thank you for the loan of the clothes. I’ll be down soon.”

She held the pair of jeans and top against her body. They looked about the right size. When she slipped them on, she was delighted at the perfect fit. She buckled the leather belt and slipped on the socks and canvas tennis shoes before drying her hair. Finding no rubber bands in the bathroom, or anything similar to use for pulling her hair into a ponytail, she stepped back into the bedroom and looked around. A gold frame sitting in the back corner of the tall oak dresser drew her gaze. It was a family photo of the cowboy, his pretty wife, and their baby, swaddled in pink and held in her mother’s arms.

What a beautiful family. They look very happy.
She let her finger drift along the edge of the frame. Picking it up with both hands, she studied the photo with an inquisitive eye. Something about the baby stirred a sense of familiarity in her. A snippet of a memory flashed through her mind. It was the image of a woman running with a child in her arms, and a man chasing them.

She laid the picture frame down with a jolt.

The image had lasted a mere second or two, but it was enough to unhinge her. She’d never experienced anything like it before. Stumbling into the bathroom, she hung her head over the sink and splashed cold water into her face. Raising her eyes to the mirror, she stared at her reflection.
What just happened? Was that a memory from my life?

She wondered what had brought it on so suddenly. Perhaps something in the rancher’s family photo triggered a memory.

After a few moments, she inhaled a deep breath and left the bedroom, deciding some fresh air was what she needed. Descending the stairs, she gripped the wooden handrail tightly, just in case she got dizzy again.

She heard country music blaring and pots and pans banging in the kitchen. On quiet feet, she followed the noises down the hallway. Halfway down, a door flung open next to her and out popped her host, talking on a cell phone. He wore the same dusty cowboy hat over Keith Urban-style shaggy blond hair that touched the collar of his work shirt. A five o’clock shadow peppered his chin and cheeks, and his eyes were as blue as sapphire. His low voice carried a southwestern drawl. He smiled at her and finished up his conversation.

“Thanks, Buddy. I’ll bring her by this afternoon. I appreciate it.” After snapping the phone shut, he said, “Hello.”

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