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

The doctor gently patted her shoulder. “I’m hopeful that once the swelling in your brain starts to recede and everything begins to heal itself, your memory will return. But in the meantime, I’m going to have a specialist come in this afternoon and speak with you.”

“A specialist?” Lass asked warily. “What kind of specialist?”

Dr. Donovan’s smile was meant to be reassuring. “A psychiatrist.”

Lass stared at her in horror. “Do you … think I’m crazy? Oh, God, I never thought about that! I might have been institutionalized and wandered away. Maybe I hurt someone and they put me away! I—”

With each word that passed her lips, Lass grew more and more agitated.

“Lass,” the doctor said gently. “You need to stop this. I can assure you that no one here has detected any sort of mental illness. The psychiatrist will simply talk to you and perhaps help coax some of your memories to return. That’s all.”

Lass’s shoulders slumped with relief. She didn’t know why her thoughts kept running toward such negative speculations. Had she been in some sort of trouble? Criminal trouble?

What a stupid question, Lass. Trouble might as well be written across your forehead. Anyone who’s found on the side of the road with a head bashed is bound to be connected to some sort of trouble. What do you think you were doing out there in the mountains in the middle of the night? Admiring the wildflowers?

Swallowing, she forced the troubling questions aside and tried to focus on the doctor. “So—how much longer will I have to be in the hospital?” she asked.

“If no complications pop up, I’ll be releasing you tomorrow.” Dr. Donovan smiled with encouragement. “As for this morning, the nurses are going to come in and help you shower and dress. And if you’re steady enough on your feet, you can move around somewhat. But I don’t want you overdoing it, okay?”

Lass agreed and the doctor continued to give her a few more orders before she finally said goodbye and left the room.

Once she was gone, Lass let out a heavy sigh as her gaze surveyed her surroundings. For the moment, the small, stark room was her home. But tomorrow she’d be leaving. To where? Where was her home? Oh, God, if she only knew.

Chapter Three

Later that afternoon while Hank questioned workers at the racetrack, Brady drove to the hospital to check on Lass. From the report Bridget had given him earlier this morning, the young woman’s memory was still a blank. But he was hoping each hour that passed would bring her closer to recalling her identity and, moreover, what had happened to her the night before.

On the second floor, he stepped off the elevator and turned right in the direction of Lass’s room, but before he could get past the nurse’s desk, a young woman with long brown hair wrapped in a knot atop her head waved and called to him.

“Hey, Brady! Are you going to the concert next weekend at the rodeo arena?”

He paused as the nurse came rushing up to him. Miranda was a sweet girl he’d once dated a few times, but it had quickly become obvious to both of them that she’d wanted more than just a good time together. Thankfully, she’d understood that he wasn’t looking for a permanent partner and they’d parted on friendly terms.

He shook his head. “Not unless I have to provide security. And right now the city police are planning on handling it.”

With Lass’s case thrown on his plate, he wasn’t going to have much free time in the coming days. Unless, she miraculously recovered, or someone showed up to identify her.

“Guess you’re busy with the Jane Doe thing,” she commented. “I think I ought to tell you that most of the hospital stopped by to see her. We’d been hoping someone would recognize her, but nobody does.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Miranda. I appreciate the attempt.”

Miranda grimaced with regret. “Poor thing. And she’s so pretty, too. What will happen to her? I mean, if she doesn’t remember? I guess she’ll have to go to one of those shelters.” Miranda shuddered with distaste. “Maybe you’ll figure it out, Brady, before that happens.”

He nodded and she quickly excused herself as the phone on the nurse’s desk began to shrill loudly. Brady hurried on to Lass’s room and as he went, Miranda’s suggestion plagued him. To think of Lass thrown in a rescue mission or a shelter for battered women sickened him. And whether she remembered or not, he couldn’t let it happen.

After a short knock on her door, he stepped inside the room and was pleasantly surprised to find her dressed and sitting in a cushioned chair positioned near the room’s only window.

“Well, you look much better than the last time I saw you,” he greeted. “How are you feeling?”

She was wearing the clothes he’d found her in and though they were smudged with dirt in spots, they made her look far more normal than the hideous hospital gown. Her long hair had been pulled back from her face and fastened at her nape with a rubber band. The style exposed her swollen eye yet at the same time revealed the long, lovely line of her neck.

“Stronger,” she answered. “And my head doesn’t hurt nearly as much.”

He moved across the room, then stopped a couple of feet from her chair. The late afternoon sun slanted a golden ray across her lap and cast a sheen to her crow-black hair. Except for her cheeks, her skin was as pale as milk and he found himself tempering the urge to reach over and touch it, test its softness with the pads of his fingers.

Clearing his throat, he said, “That’s good. Bridget says you’re on the mend.”

Her features tightened. “Did she also tell you that she sent a psychiatrist to talk with me?”

Brady looked at her in surprise. “No. But I’m glad. I told her to help you in every way that she could. Obviously she’s not going to leave any stone unturned.” He took a seat on the edge of the narrow bed. “So what did the psychiatrist have to say?”

She rubbed her hands nervously down the thighs of her jeans. “Well, that I’m not crazy or anything like that.”

Brady grinned. “I could have told you that much.”

She darted a sober glance at him. “He also said that I might not be remembering because I’m afraid to remember.”

Folding his arms against his chest, Brady studied her with interest. “Like a psychosomatic thing,” he said.

Her brows arched with surprise. “Why, yes. How did you know that? Have you studied medicine, too?”

Brady chuckled. “No. I left that to my sisters. I’m a lawman. I study human characters. And believe me, seeing people under stress and in trouble makes for a good psychology class.”

Dropping her head, she let out a heavy breath. “Well, I’ve not remembered anything. Unless you count the dream I had. And that didn’t tell me much. Except that I was running in the dark and whatever was behind me was scaring the living daylights out of me.” She looked up at him, her expression twisted with something close to agony. “Your sister says she’s going to release me from the hospital tomorrow. What does that mean, Deputy Donovan? What will happen to me then?”

He swiftly shook his head. “I’d be pleased if you’d call me Brady. And don’t worry—we’ll find some place nice for you to stay until we can get a fix on where you really belong.”

Suddenly it dawned on him that she had nothing but the clothes on her back. No handbag with all the little necessities women carried with them. No cell phone filled with numbers of friends and family that she might call for help. No credit cards or checkbook or any sort of means to provide for herself. She was totally dependent and, at the moment, looking straight at him for answers.

She didn’t make any sort of reply to his comment and Brady figured there wasn’t much she could say. She was at the mercy of the county and what it could provide for her. Unless he stepped in, he thought, as his mind suddenly jumped forward. Since his older sister, Maura, had married Quint Cantrell, her room had become empty. Brady’s home, the Diamond D Ranch, was a huge place with plenty of space for a guest. What would his family think if he showed up with Lass? He and his sister Dallas had always been guilty of picking up strays that needed a home. Well, Lass was no different, he rationalized. She needed a home in the worst kind of way.

“Thank you, Brady. I guess … Well, you know the old saying—beggars can’t be choosers. I’m obviously in that position now.”

Changing the subject for the moment, he suddenly asked, “Did someone from the sheriff’s department come by to take your picture?”

She nodded. “Yes. A lady. She said you were going to be putting it on posters around town and posting it on the Internet.”

“That’s right. We also plan to put it in the area papers. See if that will turn up any leads. But in the meantime, you’ll need some help. A place to stay, clothes and things like that. I’m thinking—” His gaze zeroed in on hers. “How would you feel about staying at my home? Until we get your problem worked out?”

Her gray eyes narrowed with something like mistrust. “I don’t understand. I’m not your responsibility. I mean, I know that you and your partner are the ones who found me, but that doesn’t mean—”

She broke off as he quickly shook his head. “Look, Lass, I’ll be frank. I don’t think you’d much like living in a shelter. You wouldn’t have much privacy and some of the women there—they’re dealing with some pretty bad problems.”

Her lips quivered. “And I’m not?”

He tried to give her the same sort of smile Brady’s mother gave him when he was fretting over an issue that was beyond his control. “As of right now, Lass, the only problem we’re certain that you have is amnesia. And the way I see it, you could’ve had a whole lot worse things happen to you.”

“Maybe I did. And we just don’t know. Maybe I’d bring trouble to your family and—” Her words abruptly trailing off, she shook her head and rose slowly from her chair. “I don’t want to be a burden or a … problem. Thank you for your kind offer, Brady, but I can’t accept.”

Feeling ridiculously squashed, he watched her move to the window and stare out at the small manicured lawn at the back of the building. To one side of the grassy area, a patio had been constructed and offered a group of comfortable lawn chairs to visitors who needed a break from the confines of a sterile hospital room.

At the moment a young woman with two small children in hand was strolling among the potted desert plants that adorned the patio. Lass appeared to be focused on the sight of the playful youngsters and Brady wondered if she might have children of her own, children that were missing their mother. For some reason he didn’t like the image of her being a mother, or a wife. And yet, he realized that if she did have a family waiting for her somewhere, she needed to get back to them as quickly as possible. More importantly, it was his job to see that she was reunited with her loved ones.

“I assure you, Lass, you’re not going to cause trouble. And even if you did, we Donovans know how to deal with trouble. Besides, you being on the ranch would be a big help to me.”

A frown puckered her forehead as she pulled her attention away from the children and over to him. “Really? How is that?”

“Well, until we discover your identity, you’re going to have to keep in close contact with the sheriff’s department. Since I’m in charge of your case that means me. And having you on the Diamond D will make it convenient for the two of us to work together.” “The Diamond D,” she repeated thoughtfully. “I think I recall you saying last night that you lived on a ranch. Your family raises cattle?”

“Horses,” he explained. “Racehorses.”

“Oh.” The frown on her face deepened. “What do you do with racehorses around here? The nurses tell me that this is a relatively small town. Most of the major tracks are on the east and west coasts.”

Rising from the bed, he joined her at the window. As he rested his hip on the wide seal, he studied her keenly. “If you remember such things as that, then apparently a part of your memory is working. As for our horses, we—or I should say my brother Liam—hauls them cross-country to race. But Ruidoso has a track and it’s becoming significant in its own right. It’s the home of the Million Dollar Futurity that takes place every Labor Day.”

“I see,” she murmured, then thoughtfully shook her head. “I wonder why I knew about the major tracks? Perhaps I’m connected to the business in some way. But I’m … only guessing. It’s just a feeling I have. Not a memory.”

Brady’s mind was leaping in all direction as he attempted to connect what dots he had. “I don’t know if this means anything, Lass, but one of the deputies found a wagering ticket from Ruidoso Downs not far from where you were found. The track, betting, horses—do any of those things ring a bell?”

She stared out the window for long moments, then with a groan of defeat, pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Brady. When I try to think of anything personal, it’s all a blank. And the harder I try to think, the more my head aches.”

“Then don’t try to think,” he urged with concern. “Bridget would have my hide if she found out I’m making your condition worse.”

Quickly, as though to reassure him, she reached out and touched his arm. “It’s not your fault. Please don’t think so. You’re only trying to help me.”

The touch of her hand on his bare forearm was as light as a butterfly and though her fingers were cool, Brady’s reaction was just the opposite. Heat flowed along his arm as though he’d been touched by a torch, and for a moment he was lost for words, lost in the gray depths of her sad eyes.

“Don’t worry about me, Lass. I’ve got a thick hide.” At least, he’d believed he was tough-skinned, until she’d touched him. Dear Lord, he had to get out of here before he did something totally unprofessional. Like gather her into his arms and cuddle her against his chest. “And right now I have to get back to work.”

Unable to tear his eyes away from her, he began to move backward toward the door.

“What about tomorrow?” she asked in bewilderment.

He flashed a smile. “Bridget will let me know when to be here to pick you up.”

“But I—”

Placing a finger against his lips, he said, “I promise, my folks will be thrilled to have you.”

And so would he, Brady silently admitted. But how long would it be before the thrill turned into a problem? Before good intentions turned bad?

Brady wasn’t going to let himself think about those questions. Right now Lass needed him. And that was all that mattered.

The next morning Brady had been at his desk for over an hour when Sheriff Hamilton arrived at work. As the tall, dark-haired man sauntered through Brady’s small work area, he stopped in his tracks and stared at his chief deputy.

“It’s not even daylight yet. What are you doing here?”

Brady glanced up from his computer screen. Ethan Hamilton was a big man in stature and presence and held a lifelong connection to the area he served. Eleven years ago, when Roy Pardee had retired, Ethan had stepped into a pair of mighty big boots. Roy had been loved and revered, a living legend as far as citizens of the county were concerned and being the man’s nephew had only made it harder for Ethan to prove himself. Down through the years he’d done that and more. He’d married the county judge, Penelope Parker, and they were now raising twin sons, Jake and Jase.

“I could say the same about you.” Even though Ethan was clearly the boss, the two men were longtime friends and they conversed as such. Now Brady swiveled the rolling chair away from the desk and stood facing the sheriff. “Is something going on with you?”

“Penny’s still feeling puny and she was up early,” Ethan explained. “Once she gets up, I can’t sleep.”

“Again? Maybe you should take her to a doctor. See what’s wrong with the woman,” Brady suggested.

A slow smile spread across the sheriff’s face. “I don’t need to. She went to the doctor yesterday and he assured her everything would get back to normal—in seven months. Or as normal as it can be with another baby in the house.”

Brady was stunned. Ethan and Penny’s twins were nearly twelve years old. After all this time, he’d never figured the couple wanting more children. “Penny is … pregnant?”

“Yeah,” he said with a beaming smile. “Isn’t it great? We’d been wanting more children for a long time, but she’s had health issues. Her having the twins was a miracle, so we figured it would be a second miracle if she could get pregnant again. We’d almost given up, but now it’s happened and the doc says everything is going along fine.”

The sheriff was a true family man and nothing made him happier than his wife and children. Brady could only wonder if he’d ever want to be that settled, that focused on one certain woman. So far he’d not found one that could hold his interest for more than a month, much less forever. Where women were concerned, Brady’s mother accused him of being a selfish alpha male who expected too much from a lady. But Brady would hardly classify himself in those terms. He’d rather think of himself as smart and practical. And he was smart enough to know that he wasn’t ready or willing to turn his life over to a woman. For that to happen, he’d have to be head over heels in love. And so far, that malady had never struck Brady.

Shaking the sheriff’s hand heartily, Brady expressed his congratulations. “Wow! This must have been a pleasant surprise for the whole family! You must be walking on a cloud right about now!”

The sheriff chuckled. “The whole Murdock clan has kept the phone lines hot with the news. And me, well, I’m not even complaining about having to cook breakfast for me and the boys for the past week. Penny can’t stand the smell of food early in the mornings. She won’t even let me make coffee. And speaking of coffee—” he glanced over his shoulder to a corner where the coffeemaker was located “—has anyone made a pot yet?”

“Yeah. Me. I’ll get us both a cup,” Brady told him. “I need to talk with you.”

“Fine. Bring it on to my office,” he said. “I want to see if Dottie has left any notes on my desk.”

Moments later, carrying two cups steaming with coffee, Brady entered the sheriff’s office and took a seat in front of the other man’s desk.

“So,” Ethan said as he sipped from the cup and rifled through the scraps of paper scattered in front of him, “you have something personal on your mind? Or business?”

Feeling sheepish and not really knowing why, Brady cleared his throat. “A little of both, I suppose. It’s about the Jane Doe case. She’s getting released from the hospital today. And I … plan on taking her out to the ranch.”

Ethan’s head shot up. “The Diamond D—?”

“That’s right. Do you have any problems with that?”

The sheriff rubbed a finger along his jaw. “Well, I don’t think there’s any law against it. But I … wouldn’t advise it, Brady. The county has places for people like her. They’ll look out for her until we get this thing straightened out.”

Frowning with disapproval, Brady leaned forward. “Sure. In that women’s shelter down in Ruidoso. That wouldn’t be good.”

“Why not?”

Brady slowly sipped his coffee while he tried to gather all the legitimate excuses he could think of. “Well, it’s right next to the mission for people with addiction problems.”

“She won’t have to mingle with those people.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Brady tried again. “The women’s shelter is small and they rarely have enough room to spare. Lass wouldn’t have any privacy and she’d have to wear whatever she could find out of the charity box.”

Ethan picked up another note and scanned the brief contents. “I could think of worse things.”

Brady’s jaw tightened. “She doesn’t come from that sort of background, Ethan. She doesn’t belong there.”

The sheriff shot him a wry look, before he carefully sipped his coffee. “None of the other women belong there, either, Brady. Bad circumstances put them there. Just like the Jane—” He suddenly paused, his eyes narrowing on Brady’s face. “Did I hear you call her ‘Lass’? Has she remembered her name?”

Brady couldn’t stop a wave of red heat from crawling up his neck and onto his face. “No. Unless her condition changed overnight.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “I gave her the name. We had to have something to call her.”

“Yeah,” Ethan said dryly, “guess the name Jane wouldn’t work for that.”

Knowing the other man could see right through him, Brady tossed up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. So I’m a sucker for a stray. What can I say?”

Ethan settled back in his chair and Brady could feel the full weight of the other man’s attention.

“Like I said, there’s no law against you taking Lass or Jane or whatever the hell she’s calling herself, home with you,” the sheriff said, “but you could be asking for a whole heap of trouble. This thing with her smells fishy to me. And the stink could rub off on you or your family. Are you prepared for that?”

Unease prickled down Brady’s backbone. He’d been a law officer long enough to know that Ethan was right. Lass could mean trouble. Yet his job was to serve and protect. And right now he couldn’t think of anyone who needed his services more than Lass.

“All the more reason to have her in a safe, secluded place. Where I can keep watch on her.”

Ethan studied him for long, thoughtful moments, then shook his head. “All right, Brady. I’m not going to buck you on this. Just remember not to let your personal feelings get in the way of the case.”

Brady grinned with relief. “I’m not going to stop until I solve it. In fact, that’s why I’m here so early this morning. I was trying to go through the system, see if she might match any new missing person’s case.”

“What about her fingerprints? Have you already run them?”

Nodding, Brady said, “Did that yesterday. No match there. But then she would’ve had to have been in the military, the government or arrested to find them in our database.”

“What about medical progress?” Ethan asked. “Hank tells me that your sister has taken her case. What is Bridget’s medical opinion?”

“That time will heal her. But she can only guess as to how much time.”

“Hmm. Let’s hope her recovery is speedy. In the meantime, the woman has to be connected to someone. Boyfriend. Husband. Family. Someone who cares enough to start a search for her.”

Someone who cares. Ethan’s words jerked Brady back to the everyday reality of his job. Of course there were people out there who cared about Lass, he thought. A woman who looked like her most likely had a special man in her life. And it was Brady’s job to see that she got safely back to that man’s arms.

Chapter Four

Shortly after lunch that same day, Lass’s paper work for her release from the hospital was completed and Brady picked her up in a black pickup truck with a sheriff’s department seal emblazoned on the doors.

The day was warm and bright and as he drove slowly along a mountain highway, Lass felt her spirits lift. It felt wonderful to be out of the confines of the hospital and even more wonderful to know that she wasn’t going to be deposited in a charity ward, where she’d be pushed aside and her plight ignored for those persons with more serious problems.

Turning her gaze away from the passenger window, she glanced over to the man behind the wheel. Brady Donovan was not just a regular deputy, she decided. He was a tall, sexy angel who had rescued her from possible death. If she’d lain on the side of the road throughout the night, she could have succumbed to exposure to the elements or wild animals, particularly black bears. Now he’d come to her rescue again and she wasn’t quite sure why.

“You’re sure that your family won’t mind me staying at their home for a few days?” she asked.

“It’s my home, too,” he reminded her. “And stop worrying. I spoke to my parents this morning. They’re glad to help.”

Lass sighed. Most of last night and this morning, as she’d struggled to remember anything about her life up until a day ago, she’d felt totally disconnected, as though she’d been defeated by something or someone, even before she’d received the whack on her head.