The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop: The Deputy's Lost and Found / Her Second Chance Cop

“Well, Brady has worked as a law officer for a long time and it’s pretty rare for shots to be fired. But we try to take it all in stride. He knows what he’s doing. And he doesn’t want us sitting around worrying about him. But it’s definitely hard not to worry. Especially when he was shot last year during a drug sting.”

Lass felt chilled. “Shot? Was he wounded badly?”

“A flesh wound in his arm. We were all thankful it wasn’t worse.”

Hoping the other woman couldn’t see the fear in her eyes, Lass murmured, “I’m sure.”

The two women descended the last few stairs, then made their way to the family room where Fiona pressed a glass of port into Lass’s hand. While she sipped the sweet wine, the woman introduced Lass to Brady’s father, Doyle, and his two brothers, Conall and Liam. Surprisingly, the three men were nothing like Brady. Conall was dark and quiet, Liam polite, but with an air of indifference, while Doyle appeared to be a blunt, no-nonsense sort of man.

When the family finally gathered around a long dining table, Lass couldn’t help but notice the empty chair to Fiona’s left elbow was conspicuously empty. And as the conversation flowed back and forth between the family members, she got the feeling that they were all concerned for his safety, but doing their best to make light of the situation.

“It’s probably a drug bust,” Fiona said as salads were served by one of the housemaids. “What else would anyone being doing out in the Valley of Fire? There’s nothing there but miles and miles of lava beds.”

Liam said, “The way Reese heard it over the scanner, the call had something to do with a domestic dispute.”

“Way out there?” Dallas countered. “That doesn’t make sense. There aren’t any homes out there.”

Liam frowned impatiently at her. “I’m just repeating what I heard, sis.”

“It doesn’t matter what the call was about,” Doyle said brusquely. “Brady’s simply doing his job. He’ll be fine. Now let’s talk about something else.”

At the opposite end of the table from Doyle, Kate cleared her voice loudly. “You’re right, son. We have a guest and I’m fairly certain she’d like to talk about something else besides shootings and criminals.”

Lass looked up from her salad to find several pairs of eyes on her. Feeling more than conspicuous, warm color flushed her cheeks.

“Oh, please, don’t let me interrupt,” she said in a small voice. “I’m very happy to just listen.”

The older brother—Conall—looked straight at her. Lass got the impression he’d been carved from a chunk of ice.

“So you don’t know where you come from?” he asked. “No clues at all?”

“Well, hell no,” Kate boomed back at her eldest grandson. “If she did, do you think she’d be wasting her time sitting here, listening to you?”

“I don’t know, Grandmother,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Maybe she doesn’t like where she came from.”

Her lips pressed into a grim line, Kate shook her head at him. “Sometimes you can really disappoint me.”

He shrugged. “Sorry. I guess I was just made that way,” he quipped.

Feeling worse than uncomfortable and wishing Brady was at her side for more than one reason, she tried not to squirm on her seat. She hated to think that some of this family thought she might be faking her amnesia, or that perhaps she might be part of a con, directed at the Donovan family. Didn’t they realize that it was all Brady’s idea to bring her here? As far as she was concerned, things would have been much simpler if she’d gone to the women’s shelter in Ruidoso rather than try to integrate herself into this large, complex family.

“Actually,” she said in a low, but steady voice, “I don’t know where I used to live. But I believe Brady when he says he’ll find my family.”

To her surprise, it was Doyle who looked at her with empathy and understanding. “I believe him, too. And until he does, we want you to make our home your home, Lass.”

Gratitude poured through her and she smiled briefly at him. “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. I’m very grateful.”

Dallas quickly interjected. “Well, I’m happy to learn that Lass remembers something about herself. She knows all about horses and knows how to ride.”

Liam’s brows lifted with faint curiosity while Conall muttered, “How convenient.”

“That’s right,” Dallas went on, clearly ignoring her brother’s sarcasm. “I’m going to take her over to the stables tomorrow and show her around. I think I might have found a great assistant. That is, after she gets over her concussion.”

Over a small glass of wine before dinner, Lass had learned that Dallas operated a therapeutic riding stable for handicapped children. Angel Wing Stables, as Dallas had called it, was entirely nonprofit and considered a labor of love. If Lass could help out around the stables in some way, she’d be glad to. She needed something to keep her mind occupied as it tried to heal. And she loved children.

How do you know that about yourself, Lass? Do you have a child of your own? Were you a nurse? A teacher? A mother?

The voice in her head was like tormenting drips of a leaky faucet. The questions were endless and unstoppable.

“By the time she gets over her concussion,” Liam reasoned, “she’ll probably have her memory back.”

“Let’s pray that happens,” Kate said, then leveled sharp eyes on her grandsons. “You two tough guys over there would be as scared as hell if you woke up some morning and didn’t have any roots, or home, or family or a dime in your pocket. Think about it.”

They must have thought about it, Lass decided. Because after that, the subject of her amnesia wasn’t brought into the conversation again. Talk around the table turned to racing and the fact that Del Mar would be opening for the late summer season soon. In a couple of days, Liam planned to ship several horses out to the historic track in Southern California and would be staying with them until the meet was over in September.

From what she could gather, the Donovans owned several grade I and II thoroughbreds, which was impressive indeed. Horses of that caliber were worth at least a million dollars each and oftentimes more. Which explained the comfortable, but elaborate, house and grounds, the large diamonds on Kate’s and Fiona’s hands, their casual, but well-tailored clothes. And yet, none of this awed Lass nor made her feel out of place. What did it all mean? That she was also from a rich background? Lass certainly didn’t feel rich. But perhaps her inner self wasn’t measuring her wealth by money. Thank God.

Not long after the meal, Lass excused herself and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Brady still hadn’t come home and after a few minutes, she climbed into bed thinking about the deputy and listening for the sound of his footsteps on the bedroom landing.

You’re clearly unstable, Lass. You don’t know your name, where your home is, or if you have one relative on the face of this earth. But instead of worrying about that, all you can think about is a sexy deputy with a head full of tawny waves and hazel green eyes glinting with mischief.

Eventually the nagging voice in her head quieted and Lass fell asleep from the exhaustion of the past two days. She must have slept soundly because the next morning she didn’t hear a thing until Brady’s voice sounded just above her ear.

“Wake up, sleeping beauty. Coffee has arrived.”

The fog of sleep was slow to move from Lass’s brain, but when it did, the realization that Brady was standing over her bed and that she was wearing a skimpy gown had her eyes flying open and her hands quickly snatching the cover up to her chin.

“Brady! What … are you doing in here?”

Grinning as though he was pleased with himself, he gestured toward the nightstand and a tray holding a small insulated coffeepot, a fragile china cup and saucer, cream pitcher, sugar bowl and a small branch covered with red blossoms.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Coffee. I took it for granted that you liked it. But if you’d rather have tea, I’ll have Reggie prepare another tray.”

With a death grip on the sheet, she propped herself against the headboard. A dose of caffeine to wake her up was hardly needed, she thought, when just looking at him was already making her heart pound. “No. I love coffee. I was talking about the flower.”

“Oh. That.” He picked up the branch of blossoms and handed it to her. “I don’t know what it is. I broke it off one of the bushes in Grandma’s flower garden. Because it was pretty. And I thought you might like it.”

Lass lifted the flowers to her nose, while an awkward feeling suddenly assaulted her. She didn’t know why having Brady see her in bed was bothering her. It wasn’t like it was the first time. But that had been a narrow hospital bed and she’d been garbed in a thick, unflattering cotton gown. Now she was in an opulent bed wearing a piece of red silk that revealed every curve of her body. And he was giving her flowers as though she was special.

Keeping her eyes carefully on the red, trumpet-shaped blooms, she said, “I do like it. Very much. But Kate’s going to get you for meddling with her flowers.”

He chuckled. “She’ll forgive me. Especially if I tell her I did it for you. She likes you. I can tell. And Grandma doesn’t just take to any and everyone.”

Turning away from her, he poured the cup full of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”

It felt ridiculous having this macho man of a lawman standing beside her bed, serving her as though she was a princess. Yet it also made her feel cared about and very special. Was that his motive? she wondered. Or was he this way with all the females who visited the Diamond D?

“Just a little cream, please. But I can do it,” she insisted. “You don’t need to do … all of this for me.”

“Why not? I’m here and I’m capable.”

Thrusting her disheveled hair from her face, she placed the flower on her lap and took the cup he offered. While she sipped, he pulled the chair away from the vanity, positioned it next to the bed and took a seat. This morning he was dressed in faded jeans and a black, short-sleeved polo shirt and though his hair was combed neatly back from his face, she could see a hint of rusty whiskers shadowing his chin and jaw. That and the faint lines beneath his eyes were the only signs that he’d had a late night.

“Tell me, Brady, do you do this for all house guests that come to the Diamond D?” she asked as she peered demurely at him over the rim of her cup.

He grinned. “Only the ones I want to leave a lasting impression on,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “You have a concussion. You need to be taking it easy.”

Unconsciously, her fingertips fluttered to the stitched wound hidden by her hair. “Bridget says I can move around. As long as I don’t rush or exert myself. And I’m feeling much stronger today.”

“That’s good. Real good.”

He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles as though he was planning to stay there for a while. Apparently it didn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable to visit a woman’s bedroom. But then a man who looked like him had probably had plenty of practice at it, she thought.

“We … were all worried about you last night,” she murmured. “I’m glad to see you made it safely back home.”

He simply looked at her, his eyes warm and appreciative. “It was nothing to get worked up about. Just a little scuffle. A man with a gun got upset and went a little off the beam. That’s all. He’s safe behind bars now. And we’re all just fine.”

The first few hours after she’d gone to bed, she’d imagined him in all sorts of dangerous situations and she’d been desperately afraid for his safety. Now, she felt foolish for letting her imagination and her feelings get so out of hand. “Does that sort of thing happen often?” she asked.

“No. But neither does finding a pretty girl with amnesia,” he answered, a faint grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “The stars must have gone off-kilter this past week. The department’s been extra busy.”

“Well, I wish the stars would realign themselves,” she did her best to joke. “Maybe then I’d get my memory back.”

“Still nothing?”

Staring down at her cooling coffee, she said dismally, “No. Apparently nothing up there in my head is regenerating.”

“If Brita says it will, then it will. You just need time,” he said with encouragement. Pulling his legs toward him, he leaned forward and rested his forearms across his thighs. “Later this morning Hank and I are going to the track and plaster your picture throughout the clubhouse and betting area. It could be that 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.

You’re coming with me. Coming with me. Coming with me.

The male voice chanted the words over and over in her head, wrapping the phrase around the flashing images until everything became a violent blur.

Releasing a faint sob, she dropped her head in her hands and supped in long, cleansing breaths. If she was actually remembering, she didn’t want any part of it.

“Lass? Are you okay?”

Dropping her hands away from her face, she looked up to see Brady’s sister standing over her. The woman was looking at her with concern and for a moment Lass wondered if she’d unconsciously cried out in fear.

“I … um, my head is starting to pound again. That’s all.” She didn’t want to tell Dallas about her visions just yet. Not until she’d spoken to Brady. He was the one who’d rescued her. He was the one who was working to find her identity. And he was the one she trusted to make some sort of sense of her predicament.

“Oh. I’d better get you back to the house!” With a hand on Lass’s arm, she helped her to her feet. “I’m so sorry, Lass. I’ve probably put too much on you this morning. Brady is going to be furious with me.”

“Bridget is my doctor. Not Brady,” Lass pointed out.

A knowing smile crossed Dallas’s pretty face. “Yes. But my brother considers you his lost and found.”

Dallas’s words should have lent her some sort of comfort. After all, what normal woman wouldn’t want to be tucked under the protective wing of a sexy lawman like Brady?

But Lass wasn’t a typical woman. And after experiencing those strange visions a few moments ago, she feared her hopes for a normal future were in jeopardy.

For the remainder of the day, Lass stuck close to the house and generally tried to relax. But that was difficult to do when her head was spinning with the unbidden images she’d experienced at Dallas’s riding stables. Everything about them had scared and confused her and she was desperate to see Brady again. Not only to tell him what had happened, but also to see his smile, to hear his strong voice assuring her that everything would be all right.

She was sitting on a covered porch at the back of the house, two of the family’s pet cats curled at her feet, when she heard footsteps behind her. Expecting it to be Fiona or Kate inviting her in for drinks, she was more than surprised to see Brady.

“Mom told me where you were,” he explained as he approached her chair. “Why are you sitting out here all by yourself?”

Even though he was still in his work clothes, he looked wonderful to her and before she could contain herself, she jumped to her feet and threw herself against his chest.

“Oh, Brady, I’m so glad you’re home!” she practically sobbed.

His face a mixture of pleasure and confusion, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “Whoa now, Lass, there’s not any need for you to be so worked up. I haven’t had anybody shooting at me today. That was last night.”

Sniffing, she tilted her head back and looked up at him with misty eyes. “I’m sorry for being so … melodramatic, Brady. You must think I’ve lost my mind. And I—” With an anguished groan, she twisted out of his arms and turned her back to him. “I’m afraid I have. I apologize for throwing myself at you like that.”

His low chuckles were suddenly brushing against the back of her neck and suddenly the quivering in the pit of her stomach had nothing to do with fear.

“You think you need to apologize for hugging me? I just wished you’d hung on longer.”

His suggestive remark had her swallowing, fighting the urge to turn to him once more. “I don’t think … that would be wise,” she said, her voice breathy and broken.