The Deputy's Lost and Found (5 page)

“That’s Grandma Kate pounding the ivories,” Brady informed her as they stepped into a long, formal living room.

As they walked forward, Lass caught glimpses of antique furniture covered in rich colored brocade, elaborate window coverings and expensive paintings. The room looked stiff and lonely.

“Is your family musical?” she asked, while trying not to feel conspicuous in her mussed shirt and blue jeans.

Lass would’ve liked to have purchased something clean to change into before she left the town of Ruidoso, but without money or credit cards, she was hardly in a position to buy anything. And she would have bitten off her tongue before she would’ve asked Brady for financial aid. He was already bending over backward to help her.

In a flirtatious way, he’d called it taking advantage, but now that she’d had a couple of miles and a few minutes to think about it, she realized he’d only been trying to make her feel as though she wasn’t going to be a burden on him, or anyone. There hadn’t been anything personal about the look in his eyes or the way he’d touched her. He probably treated all women in that same familiar way and the best thing she could do was put the moment out of her mind.

“Only Grandma and my sister Dallas are the musical ones in the family. I can’t tell one note from the other,” he answered. With his hand at her back, he guided her through an arched opening and into a long hallway. “The family room is right down here. That’s where everybody relaxes and gets together when they’re not working. There and the kitchen. Forget the front parlor. That’s only used for meeting with people we don’t like.”

Lass couldn’t help but laugh. “Then I’m glad your family didn’t meet me there.”

After walking several feet down the carpeted corridor, Brady ushered her through an open doorway to their right. The family room, as he’d called it, was a long space, comfortably furnished with two couches and several armchairs, a large television set and stereo equipment, one whole wall of books and wide paned windows that overlooked a ridge of desert mountains. At the far end, a tall woman with graying chestnut hair sat playing an upright piano. The instrument looked as though it had to be near a hundred years old, but the woman pressing the keys appeared surprisingly vital for her age.

At the moment she was playing a boisterous waltz that went a long way in lifting Lass’s drooping spirits.

“Grandma! Stop that confounded noise and come meet Lass!” Brady yelled loud enough to be heard above the piano.

Abruptly, the woman lifted her fingers from the keys and turned with a frown. “What? Oh, Brady, it’s you.”

She rose spryly from the piano stool and walked over to greet them, while Lass studied Brady’s grandmother with a bit of shock. She’d been expecting a frail woman with white hair and pale, fragile skin dressed in a flowered shirt-waister. Kate Donovan was a tanned, robust woman, with a short, sporty hairdo and heavy silver jewelry adorning her ears and neck. She was wearing Levi’s, cowboy boots and a generous smile on her face. Lass instantly loved her.

“Yes, it’s me.” He reached out and fondly pinched the woman’s cheek and she immediately swatted at his hand.

“Stop it! You big flirt!”

Brady grinned. “That’s because you’re looking so pretty today.”

The older woman feigned a bored sigh, then thrust her hand out to Lass.

“I’m Kate Donovan,” she said warmly. “And you must be the little lost lady that my grandson found on the roadside.”

Shaking the woman’s firm grip, Lass smiled back at her. “Yes, ma’am. And please call me Lass.” She glanced shyly toward Brady, then back to the matriarch of the Donovan family. “That’s what Brady named me. And I’d like to say how very grateful I am to your grandson—to you and your whole family for allowing me to stay here in your home for a few days.”

Kate patted the back of Lass’s hand. “You’re perfectly welcome, honey. We like having company. When an outsider is around, it keeps the family fights down to a minimum,” she added with a wink.

“Grandma, don’t make her any more nervous than she already is!” Brady scolded his grandmother. “You’ll have her thinking we’re a bunch of heathens.”

“Nonsense!” Kate shot back at him. “She’s probably used to family bickering.”

Brady tossed his grandmother a look of exaggerated patience. “Grandma, Lass can’t remember anything. She doesn’t know whether she has a family, much less if they argue among themselves.”

Kate scowled at him. “All right, all right. I wasn’t thinking,” she admitted. “But it looks as though you don’t have an iota of sense in that brain of yours, either.”

Confusion caused him to arch one of his brows. “Why do you say that?”

Frowning at him, Kate moved to Lass’s side and curled a protective arm around her shoulder. “What do you mean letting the girl leave the hospital in dirty clothes? Shame on you, Brady!”

Brady opened his mouth to speak, but the older woman didn’t allow him the chance.

“Don’t bother with excuses,” Kate said, then turned Lass and began leading her out of the room.

Brady followed on their heels. “What are you doing?”

“Taking Lass upstairs,” the older woman answered. “Fiona is already up there, making sure everything is ready for our guest. We’ll find Lass some clothes and get her all settled. You don’t have to concern yourself now.”

“But I—”

Kate Donovan paused in her forward movement long enough to shoot Brady a pointed frown.

“Don’t you need to get back to work?” she interjected.

He looked helplessly at Lass, who was still standing beneath his grandmother’s protective wing, then shrugged. In all honesty, he wasn’t yet ready to leave the ranch and Lass behind. He’d been planning on taking a few more minutes to show her around the house, introduce her to his mother and generally make her feel welcome.

“Ethan lets me be my own boss.”

“Poor man,” Kate said. “You’ve got him confused.”

Brady hurried over to join the two women as they headed out of the room and quickly looped his arm through Lass’s.

“Confused, hell,” Brady retorted, then directed his next question at his grandmother. “Have you heard that Penny’s pregnant again?”

The older woman paused long enough to gape at him. “Penny? Pregnant again? Why, no! But how wonderful!”

“I’d think shocking is a better word for it,” Brady replied. “She’s got to be pushing forty.”

Kate Donovan laughed and winked at Lass. “Maybe there’s still hope for me yet.”

“Grandma! Why don’t you quit embarrassing me? Old
people should be seen and not heard and you’re quickly falling into that category,” Brady chided the woman.

Lass gasped while Kate’s robust laughter rang through the hallway. “Why don’t you move out, big boy?” she suggested to Brady. “And then this house might not feel so much like a mental ward.”

Chuckling, Brady bent his head toward Lass’s ear. “Grandma and I love each other,” he explained. “Very much.”

By now the three of them had reached a wide, carpeted staircase, but before they started the climb, Kate stopped and leveled a stern look at Lass.

“Honey, I’m going to warn you right now. Whatever you do, don’t believe a word this young fool tells you. He’s full of Irish blarney. Or full of himself. Either one is bad for a pretty girl like you.”

Before Brady could defend himself, the cell phone in his pocket rang. After one swift glance at the number, he answered, listened briefly, then briskly replied, “Take Tate with you. I expect they’ll be some resistance. Yeah. Thirty minutes.”

Snapping the phone shut, he dropped the phone in his pocket. “Gotta go,” he explained to the two women. “Trouble in the Valley of Fire.”

Picking up the urgency in his voice, Lass watched him turn and trot off in the direction from which they’d just came. And as she watched him go, she was suddenly reminded that for all his playfulness, Brady was a lawman and his job no doubt often put him in danger. The idea left her very uneasy.

Kate Donovan patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Lass. My grandson is a fine deputy. He knows what he’s doing.”

Yes, but did Lass know what she was doing? She’d come here to the Diamond D to stay until she could figure
out where she really belonged. So why did one touch, one smile, from Brady Donovan make her feel like she’d just found home?

M
uch later that evening, as night fell over the Diamond D, Lass sat quietly in an armchair in her bedroom. As she watched stars emerge in a purple sky, and wondered how she’d gone from lying unconscious in a mountainside ditch to a luxurious ranch, a light knock sounded on the door.

Maybe Brady had finally returned home, she thought hopefully. All afternoon she’d been thinking about him, imagining him in all sorts of dangerous, life-threatening situations.

Glancing over her shoulder, she called, “Come in.”

Instead of Brady pushing through the door, a tall, young woman with light auburn hair and a cheery smile stepped into the room. A crinkled floral skirt swirled against her brown cowboy boots while a coral-colored blouse flattered her vibrant hair. To Lass she looked like a beautiful ray of sunshine.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Dallas. Brady’s and Bridget’s sister.”

Smiling, Lass quickly rose from the chair and walked over to the other woman. Extending her hand, she said, “I’m very happy to meet you, Dallas. I’m…well, I’m Lass.” Her short laugh was a mixture of helplessness and humor. “At least, that’s what Brady has christened me.”

Dallas laughed along with her and Lass instantly realized she was going to like this woman.

“Well, that’s much better than the name he gave one of our barn cats. I won’t repeat that one to you.” She glanced appreciatively over the pale blue dress Lass was wearing. “Hey, that looks great on you. Grandma said that she and Mom found you some of Bridget’s things to wear. Since the two of you are both petite and about the same size. But listen, if you’d like to go on a shopping trip, just let me know. We’ll take an afternoon and raid all the shops in Ruidoso. My treat. After all, a girl needs intimate things of her own.”

“Oh, I couldn’t. I mean, Brady didn’t find a pocketbook, money, credit cards or anything on me. I’m a—” She held up her palms in a helpless gesture. “I suppose I’m what you call a charity case.”

The tall redhead shrugged one slender shoulder. “So what? You won’t always be dependant. Besides, I just might put you to work,” she added with a wink, then touched Lass’s shoulder and urged her toward the door. “If you’re ready, let’s go down. Dinner is close to being served and the family is having drinks.”

Lass followed her out of the bedroom and as they descended the steps, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Has Brady made it home yet?”

Dallas shook her head. “No. None of us have had any contact with him. One of the hands down at the barns heard
over the police scanner that shots had been fired, but that was more than an hour ago.”

A heavy weight sunk to the pit of Lass’s stomach. “That…sounds ominous.”

“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.