The Heiress and the Sheriff Page 3

  “Yes. I’ve got to start my rounds.” He came to stand by Wyatt and looked down at Gabrielle. “Has your vision cleared any, Miss Carter?”

  Her eyes squinted as she tried to focus on the doctor’s face. “At times it’s clear, and then it gets fuzzy again. Right now you look a little blurred.”

  “That’s understandable.” He slipped a penlight out of his lab coat and shined it in each of her eyes. “I imagine you’ve got quite a headache.”

  “They gave me something down in Emergency. It’s beginning to ease a little.”

  “That’s good.

  She swallowed nervously as her gaze vacillated from one man to the other. “Doctor, what if I don’t remember tomorrow? Is there something you can give me or do to me to make me remember?”

  Matthew patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about your memory, Miss Carter. Just rest and let your body try to heal itself. Right now that’s the best thing you can do.”

  She nodded, and Matthew made a motion to Wyatt that they should leave the room.

  “I’ll be back later, Gabrielle,” Wyatt promised. “After I’ve searched your car.”

  He saw her study his face, then deliberately turn her head toward a window to her right. The light coming through the slatted blinds spread a soft glow behind her, and the sight of her tender profile hit a spot smack in the middle of Wyatt’s chest.

  “It’s a cinch you’ll know where to find me,” she said quietly.

  He cleared his throat while mentally shaking himself. “Just make sure you don’t try to sneak off from this place. I’ll find you wherever you go.”

  Outside in the hallway, Wyatt deliberately put several feet between them and Gabrielle’s door before he questioned his friend. “Well, what do you think, Matthew?”

  “I think you were rather hard on her.”

  Wyatt’s eyes widened with surprise. “Hell! I already know I’m not a pleasant man. What I need to hear from you is whether Gabrielle Carter is faking her memory loss.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Wyatt let out a long breath. He’d never wanted to believe anything so much in his life. But several reasons held him back. The biggest one being Gabrielle was a woman. And a white one at that. “You think. You can’t say for certain?”

  “No. Like I said before, amnesia isn’t something doctors encounter routinely. And even when it’s genuine, it’s tricky to deal with.”

  “Have you ever seen this woman before?”

  Matthew shook his head. “Never. I’m sure of it. But Wyatt, I really think you’re barking up a wrong tree here. Miss Carter hardly seems the sinister type. I can’t imagine her being connected to Bryan’s kidnapping, or even to Taylor’s winding up on the ranch.”

  “You couldn’t imagine your own child being stolen from its crib either!” Wyatt bluntly reminded him. Then, muttering a curse under his breath, he shook his head. “I’m sorry, Matthew. I know I’m scratching at a wound that hasn’t healed, and I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already have been. But we can’t afford to trust this woman. At least, not until I find out more about her. It might turn out she’s the mystery mother of baby Taylor.”

  Matthew quickly shook his head. “Her chart reads she’s a virgin. Apparently she told the admitting doctor she had some abdominal pain. Since she couldn’t remember her medical history, she agreed to a full physical—including a gyn—just to make sure there were no internal problems. So it’s clear the woman hasn’t even had sex with a man, Wyatt. Much less given birth to a child.”

  For some reason Matthew’s words spread a dull flush over Wyatt’s dark face. The idea of Gabrielle Carter being pristine and untouched had never occurred to him.

  “That doesn’t make her innocent in other ways.”

  The young doctor sighed as he pinned Wyatt with a regretful look. “You’ll never trust women, will you?”

  “Not in this lifetime.”

  Matthew threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

  “All right, Wyatt, so what if you find out Miss Carter was up to no good when she headed out to the ranch? What are you going to do—arrest her on suspicion?”

  Gabrielle’s pale, haunted face crept into Wyatt’s mind, but he pushed it out. If he wasn’t careful, that lost, vulnerable look in her pretty eyes would lead him right down a path to ruination.

  “I don’t know,” Wyatt answered. “I’ll have to see what tomorrow brings.”

  Gabrielle could leave the hospital. The doctor had given her the release a few minutes ago. But what was she supposed to do? The only things she possessed were her jeans, top and a pair of clunky sandals. She had no money or car. No home to call for help. At least, if she did, she couldn’t remember who her family was, or where they were.

  At the moment Gabrielle could only think of two options. Walk until she found a shelter. Or throw herself on the mercy of the Department of Human Services. Neither choice held any appeal. But she had to have some sort of shelter until her memory returned, or until she could find a job and care for herself.

  There was a telephone beside the head of the bed. She supposed she could use it for local calls. But there was no directory that she could find. And besides, she had no one to call.

  You could call Sheriff Wyatt Grayhawk.

  She cringed at the sound of the little voice inside her head. The man had promised he’d be back, but it was nearly noon and she hadn’t seen him yet. It was pretty obvious he’d decided she wasn’t worth bothering about. Besides, she’d rather ask a stranger on the street for help than ask that man.

  “Gabrielle! Great—you’re up and all ready to go!”

  At the young woman’s voice, Gabrielle swung around from her spot at the window. Maggie Fortune stepped into the room.

  Relief flooded through Gabrielle. “I’m so glad you came! The doctor has released me and I need a ride to some sort of shelter. Would you mind dropping me off?”

  The dark-haired young woman walked over to Gabrielle. “I would mind very much. I wouldn’t think of allowing you to go to a shelter.”

  Gabrielle’s brow puckered with confusion as she looked at the other woman. Maggie Fortune was casually dressed in white slacks and a red blouse, but Gabrielle could see her clothes were expensive, as was her wedding ring and the rest of her jewelry. She was obviously well-to-do. Surely she wasn’t going to suggest that Gabrielle go with her!

  “I have to do something, Ms. Fortune, until I get my memory back. And so far it’s no better than it was yesterday.”

  “Call me Maggie. Does your head feel any better?”

  Gabrielle nodded. “It still aches, but the throbbing isn’t fierce like it was yesterday. The doctor read my brain scan this morning, and he says there is no serious injury.”

  “But what about your memory? Can’t he do something about that?”

  Gabrielle grimaced. “He believes it will gradually come back to me on its own after my brain gets over the shock of the accident. That’s why, for now, I’ve got to find a place to stay.”

  “Of course you do. That’s why you’re coming out to the Double Crown Ranch with me.” Gabrielle opened her mouth to protest but Maggie was waving her hand before she could utter one word. “Don’t argue, Gabrielle. I’ve already talked it over with my husband and father-in-law. They and the rest of the family want you to come. We all feel guilty about putting you in this awful situation.”

  Feeling suddenly weak, Gabrielle walked over to the bed and sank down on its edge. “I—don’t know what to say. From what you said, the whole thing was an accident. I certainly don’t hold you or your family accountable.”

  Maggie smiled gently at her. “I told them all that you would feel this way. And I also assured them I wouldn’t come home without you.”

  “But…I’m sure I’ll be able to stay a few days at a shelter. And by then I’ll probably remember everything and be able to go home. If not, I can surely find a job somewhere.”

  Maggie shook her head. “You can’t work
in your condition. You need time to recuperate.” She walked over to Gabrielle and gently squeezed her shoulder. “I promise—my family is nice. And the ranch house is so big you won’t possibly be in the way. Now get your things and let’s go.”

  Gabrielle suddenly chuckled and held up her empty palms. “I don’t have any things. Whatever I had with me must have burned in the car.”

  “Oh, my goodness! I wasn’t thinking. You poor thing, you don’t even have a toothbrush. Well, never mind, we’ll go shopping for whatever you need.”

  “Oh no! I—” Gabrielle’s words halted as a knock sounded on the door.

  Both women turned to see Sheriff Grayhawk entering the hospital room. Today he was dressed more like a lawman. A revolver in a hand-tooled, leather holster was strapped low on his waist. His shirt was khaki with a sheriff’s department emblem on the sleeve. On the pocket over his heart was a shiny round badge with a star in the center.

  Gabrielle had thought he looked tough yesterday. Today, he was formidable.

  “Hello, Wyatt,” Maggie greeted him.

  Not bothering to remove his black Stetson, he nodded at the woman, then planted a direct stare on Gabrielle. “I see you’re dressed. Are you leaving the hospital?”

  Her heart pounding madly, she nodded at him.

  Maggie spoke up, “Gabrielle has been released by the doctor, so I’m taking her out to the ranch.”

  “Is that what you want to do?” he asked Gabrielle.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but once again Maggie beat her to it. “She wanted me to take her to a shelter. But I wouldn’t hear of it.”

  The sheriff’s eyes narrowed on Gabrielle’s newfound friend. “Does the rest of your family know of your intentions to take Gabrielle out to the Double Crown?”

  He made it sound as though she were a leper who should be banished to a dark cave somewhere, Gabrielle thought.

  Maggie frowned at him. “We discussed it last night. Ryan and Dallas insist on it. They think it’s the least we can do to help Gabrielle. And so do I.”

  “I see,” he said.

  Did he? Gabrielle wondered, then choked back a sigh as he glanced at her, then back to Maggie.

  “I want to talk with you alone for minute,” he told Maggie.

  She excused herself, and Wyatt ushered her out of the room.

  Gabrielle remained on the bed, staring at the door he’d carefully closed behind him. She had no idea what, if anything, he’d discovered in her car. But two things were becoming very clear to her: he still mistrusted her, and he did not want her going to the Double Crown Ranch.

  But why? she asked herself. What was going on out there that could possibly involve her?

  Neither Wyatt nor Maggie appeared too happy when they returned to the room, and Gabrielle felt even worse than she had before the Fortune woman had shown up to help her.

  “Look, Maggie, I don’t want to cause any problems for you. I’m sure Sheriff Grayhawk agrees that I should stay at a shelter and—”

  “Don’t worry about Wyatt,” she said to Gabrielle. “He understands the situation. In fact, he’s going to drive you out to the ranch himself while I go do some shopping. So I’ll see you in a little while.”

  Maggie quickly left the room, and Gabrielle’s eyes flew to the sheriff’s face. His dark, chiseled features were stoic, giving her no clue as to what was going on behind his intense eyes.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  She slipped from the bed, but was instantly swamped with dizziness. Her hand instinctively shot out for something to steady her and landed smack in the middle of Wyatt’s chest. She jerked back as if she’d touched fire.

  Wyatt instantly grabbed her by the shoulder. “What’s wrong? Are you going to faint?” he asked roughly.

  She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for the spinning in her head to stop. It would be bad enough to faint. But to helplessly wilt in front of this man would be totally humiliating. “No. I’m a little dizzy. Just give me a moment.”

  “This is a hell of a way to be leaving the hospital,” he muttered. “You can’t even walk down the hallway. Who is the idiot doctor that signed your release papers? I’m going to go find him—”

  “I’m all right!” Her eyes flew open and she straightened away from him with a weak jerk. “There’s no need for you to get so angry.”

  Her words brought him up short. He wasn’t angry, but he supposed he probably appeared that way to her. Well, that was okay with him. It wouldn’t do to let her think he was actually concerned about her. She needed to know he was a hard man, who wouldn’t blink an eye about cuffing her hands behind her back—if she turned out to be a criminal.

  Three

  “Stay here. I’ll get a wheelchair,” he ordered.

  Moments later Wyatt was back, and Gabrielle had no choice but to allow him to push her to the elevator, then out to the sidewalk to his waiting truck.

  As they traveled away from the hospital, Gabrielle focused her attention on the passing buildings and streets, hoping something might spark her memory. But after several blocks whizzed by, her spirits sank to her feet. Nothing about the city looked familiar.

  As though he were reading her thoughts, he asked, “Recognize anything?”

  “No. But I have a feeling I don’t recognize this place because I’m not from around here.”

  His expression remained unmoved as he negotiated the pickup truck through heavy traffic. “I could have told you that yesterday.”

  She thrust a heavy wave of hair back from her face before fixing him with a stare. “How?”

  “You hardly sound Texan. Californian, I’d wager. You have that West Coast look about you, too. Tanned skin, sun-streaked hair.”

  “I’m sure there are tanned women with streaked hair around here,” she pointed out.

  “Yeah. But you’re different. And I think you know it.”

  She was different because she had amnesia! she wanted to yell at him. Instead, she asked, “What did you find in my car?”

  The pickup was a four-wheel-drive vehicle with a shift stick in the floor. She watched the corded muscle in his arm work as he shoved the stick into a lower gear. She instinctively knew he was a strong man. She could still feel the grip of his fingers on her shoulder when he’d steadied her in the hospital room.

  “It’s in that sack beside you. That was all I could find. I’d say the only reason it didn’t burn was because it was sheltered by the metal glove compartment. Also I managed to find the VIN number on your car,” he said. “It’s being run through a computer.”

  “What will that tell you?”

  “Where the vehicle came from. Who owned it.”

  A pent-up breath whooshed out of her. “Then you might find out who I am.”

  His lips twisted as he glanced at her. “You said you’re Gabrielle Carter. Is that not true?”

  He saw her fingers grip the paper, saw her gaze at the clump on her lap as though it was the only thing she possessed in her life. And maybe it was, he thought. The notion bothered Wyatt. Way too much.

  “I am Gabrielle Carter,” she said resolutely. “But who is she?”

  He motioned toward the sack. “Maybe that will give you your answer.”

  Slowly, she unrolled the top of the brown paper bag and peeked inside. “A book?”

  “More than just a book.”

  Gabrielle carefully lifted the article out of the sack. The leather cover was charred around the edges and streaked with smoke, but the words on the front were still visible: Holy Bible. What had she been doing traveling with a Bible? she wondered. Was she a religious zealot? She didn’t feel like one. Then again, she was obviously spiritual. Several times in the past two days she had found herself silently praying. Perhaps the book was a family heirloom that she hadn’t wanted to part with.

  Trying to ignore Wyatt’s watchful eye, she quickly opened to the front pages of the book where a family tree would normally be registered. Her heart sank when she saw the entry lines w
ere empty.

  She rubbed her fingers back and forth across her forehead. “What do you think I was doing with a Bible?”

  “Who knows? Maybe you came here to do missionary work.” His gaze cut a skeptical path from her neck all the way down to her feet. “But in that getup, I very much doubt it.”

  Her face flaming from his blatant inspection, she looked down at herself. Even though her black ribbed top had a scooped neck and no sleeves, there was nothing indecent about it. Nor about her jeans. The sandals were a little funky and the heels a bit high, but from what she’d briefly seen on a few women in the hospital lobby, they were in style.

  “You have a certain image of a missionary woman?”

  The faint smile on his face was more smirk than anything. Gabrielle wished she had the strength and the nerve to reach across the seat and slap his jaw—lawman or not.

  “Yeah. And it sure doesn’t fit you.”

  She breathed deeply and tried to stem her rising temper.

  “Why don’t you want me to go to the Double Crown Ranch?”

  “Are my feelings that obvious to you?”

  “Very.”

  They were finally leaving the city behind. Wyatt reached to shove the gearshift into overdrive, and, once again, Gabrielle watched the rhythmic movements of his body. For the first time she noticed there were no rings on his fingers. A watch with a silver band encrusted with squares of green malachite circled his left wrist, but other than the distinctly Native American piece, he wore no jewelry. She was not surprised at the absence of a wedding band. There was nothing about the man that said he belonged to a woman. Or ever would.

  “The Fortunes are my good friends,” he told her. “I don’t want them to be taken advantage of.”

  His words stung her hard. Why, she didn’t know. What this arrogant sheriff thought of her shouldn’t matter one iota. But it did. “Do I look like an ax murderer or something?”

  “Or something.”

  She wanted to scream at his short, noncommittal answers. “What does that mean?”

  “The Fortunes have had their share of troubles lately. I don’t want your presence adding to them.”