Outlaw (47 page)

She heard a male voice giving the command for the
dog to stay, but not calling it off. She could only make out the silhouette of
a man standing about twenty feet from her.

“You move one inch, buddy, and I’ll turn him loose
on you!” the man threatened. As if to reinforce that statement, the dog emitted
another menacing growl.

Trying to find her voice, she swallowed. It felt as
if her heart was in her throat. Before she could form the words to explain, a
floodlight, high up on a utility pole, flipped on, filling the driveway and
yard with light.

She could see the man clearly now. He was about six
feet tall with dark hair and a goatee. He was young, about twenty-five to
thirty years old, she guessed, but the thing she noticed the most was the
shocked look that came over his face as he got a good look at her.

Slowly the shotgun lowered.

“Jesus, lady, what happened to you?” he asked in a
stunned whisper.

She took a step forward, intending to ask for help,
and immediately was brought up short by another low growl from the dog. She
heard a harsh command for the dog to sit, and she looked up to see another man
approaching from the house. This one was about an inch or two taller than the
man with the shotgun. He had a scowl on his face.

She could tell immediately he was in charge. It was
written all over him, from the way he walked, to the way he took command of the
situation.

He was well built, his shoulders broad, his waist
slim. The sleeves of his denim shirt were rolled up to reveal arms, tanned and
muscled. He had dark blonde hair, streaked with lighter gold in places, as if
he spent hours in the sun. His eyes were a bright blue, and his face was lean
and tanned, except for the lighter squint lines around his eyes.

She watched as his gaze swept over her from head to
toe. She felt mute and paralyzed, unable to think of anything to say to these
two men. Would she find help here, or more danger? If the shotgun was any
indication, her chances didn’t look good.

“Ma’am, are you okay? You have an accident or
something?” the blonde man asked.

“I…I don’t know…I fell, I think…”

“You think?” He looked to his companion, and then at
her. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, looking down at the ground a moment,
thinking. When she looked back up at him, there were tears in her eyes.

He wasn’t sure whether it was that, or what she
whispered that knocked the breath out of him. “What did you say?” he asked, not
sure he’d heard her correctly.

In a small trembling voice she repeated, “I said, I
don’t know. I can’t remember my name. I can’t remember…anything.”

The two men exchanged a look, not sure what to make
of an answer like that.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” the blonde man
asked.

“I…I can’t remember.”

“What’s your name, darlin’? It’s a simple question,”
he pressed.

“I told you. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your own name?” he asked,
disbelieving.

She shook her head, the movement barely perceptible,
as the gravity of her situation hit her. If they didn’t help her, what would
she do? Maybe she could use their phone, but she didn’t even know whom to call.
Was there anyone worrying about her, even now?

A tear slowly slid down her cheek. “Please help me.
I don’t know who I am, or where I am…I…” She began to feel dizzy, and the last
thing she saw was the stunned look on their faces as everything went black, and
she crumpled to the gravel drive.

“She’s breathing. She just passed out,” the blonde
man said.

The two men were squatted down next to the girl’s
prone body, lying in the gravel drive. They leaned over her, and noticed the
lump on her forehead.

“Well, the blow to the head would explain the memory
loss, I guess,” the man with the shotgun said, setting the gun down on the
ground. He reached to lift the woman’s head up, and his hand came away with
blood on it. “Damn, Steve. She’s bleeding.” He turned her head, and brushed
aside her hair.

They both saw the wound on her head, and exchanged
knowing looks. Both of them had hunted long enough to know a bullet graze when
they saw one.

“Jesus, Steve! Somebody shot at her, and came damn
close to killing her. If that bullet had come a fraction closer…”

“Where the hell did she come from, Cary?” Steve
murmured, looking up the drive, toward the road, searching for a vehicle.

“Damned if I know. I was sitting on the front porch,
smoking a cigarette, and all of a sudden, Rocky takes off down the driveway,
growling. I grabbed the shotgun, and followed. She was walking up the drive. I
never heard a car pull up. I think she’s on foot.”

Watch for

RUBY FALLS

By

Nicole James

Coming Summer 2013