The Deputy's Lost and Found (7 page)

“I would never think that,” she assured him.

His hand moved downward until his fingers were curled snugly around the side of her waist. “You’re being very polite.”

“I’m not just being polite. I’m being honest.”

He chuckled then. “Well, I guess to the outward person my brothers and I look like mama’s boys. But that’s not the case at all. Conall and Liam run the ranch operations. Without all their work, Dad wouldn’t be able to retire and enjoy these years with Mom. And me, well, I don’t do ranch work on a day-to-day basis, but I help as much as I can.”

“That’s something I’ve been curious about,” Lass told him. “Why did you become a lawman? Particularly, when your brothers are ranchers like your father.”

They walked for several yards before he finally answered and by then they’d entered a garden filled with ornamental bushes and low, blooming flowers. The graveled path had turned to stepping stones and the sweet smell of honeysuckle filled the night air.

Brady paused to face her. “I’m lucky, Lass. From the time we were young children, our father has always encouraged us to follow our own dreams. If that meant something other than raising thoroughbreds, then that was okay with him.”

“You don’t like working with horses?”

There was a perplexed frown on her face, as though she couldn’t imagine anyone opposing such a job. It made Brady realize just how much she loved horses and that she’d no doubt been involved in the equine business in some form or fashion. But that was a wide-ranging possibility that included farms, ranches, tracks, trainers, stables and veterinarians, coupled with all the offshoot jobs from those businesses. Unless she remembered something
helpful, finding her identity was going to be like searching for one tiny mosquito in the middle of a giant swamp.

Keeping that worrisome thought to himself, he said, “Oh, sure. I love horses. But I never had that special touch with them. Not the way my father and brothers have always had. They understand what a horse is thinking and planning way before the horse even knows it. And I…well, I learned the hard way. By being bit or kicked or bucked off. You get the picture. But that didn’t matter. I just happened to have other ideas about my career. And it wasn’t breeding or racing horses.”

She nodded that she understood his independence wasn’t born out of retaliation. “How did you decide you wanted to be a lawman? You have other relatives in the business?”

He chuckled. “I wish. Then everyone wouldn’t look at me like I’m the lone wolf of the bunch.” Curling his arm around her shoulder, he once again urged her forward. “Actually, I first planned to be a lawyer. A horse farm of this size always needs legal work and I liked the idea of laying out rules and regulations.”

“A lawyer,” she repeated with faint amazement. “I can’t imagine you in a courtroom.”

“No? Well, Grandma could imagine me in that role. She said I could argue better than anyone she knew,” he teased. “But after I started college it didn’t take me very long to realize I didn’t want to be confined behind four walls for the rest of my life.”

“So you quit college and went to work for the sheriff’s department?”

“Not exactly,” he answered. “I went to work part-time for the sheriff’s department, did my rookie training and continued earning a degree in criminal justice during my off hours. All of it together was tough going for a while.
But now I’m glad I put out the effort.” With a wry smile, he glanced down at her. “I took the long way about answering a simple question, didn’t I? So I’ve talked enough about myself. Let’s talk about you.”

By now they had reached a long, oval-shaped pool surrounded by footlights. The crystal clear water sparkled invitingly and as she stared at the depths, she envisioned herself in a similar pool, the water slipping cool against her arms, the night air above her hot and humid. She tried to hang on to the image, to memorize every detail, but like before, it was gone almost as quickly as it came and with a frustrated sigh, she said, “We can’t talk about me, Brady. I don’t know anything about me.”

Seeing the whole thing disturbed her, Brady urged her over to a flowered lounge positioned a few feet from the edge of the pool. After she took a seat on the end of the long chair, he sank next to her and reached for her hand.

“I’m sorry, Lass. I wasn’t thinking. Damn it, I’ve never been around anyone who can’t remember who they are and I keep forgetting to watch my words. Everything I say seems to put a glaring light on your predicament.”

Shaking her head, she stared pensively into the darkness. “That’s all right. I don’t want you to watch your words around me, Brady. I want you to be yourself. I don’t want you to try to isolate or cushion me from reality. I’m tougher than you think. Really I am.”

Brady couldn’t stop his hands from wrapping around her slender shoulders or turning her toward him. There was something sweetly endearing about her that pulled at everything inside of him. Something about the trusting look in her gray eyes that made him want to be her protector, her hero, her everything.

“Tough is not the way I’d describe you, Lass,” he said
lowly. The holes in the crocheted shawl exposed patches of skin to his hands. The soft feel of it excited him, almost as much as gazing at the moist curves of her lips. “Strong. But not tough.”

Her lashes fluttered demurely against her cheeks. “Brady, we came out here for a walk,” she pointed out. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re sitting.”

He rubbed the top of his forefinger beneath her chin and swallowed as the urge to kiss her threatened to overtake his senses.

He murmured, “As a deputy of this county, I can assure you that sitting isn’t a crime.”

The tip of her tongue slipped out to nervously moisten her top lip. “Brady, that kiss…earlier—”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think we should repeat it.”

She looked confused and worried and for the first time in his life, Brady felt a bit of unease himself. Which didn’t make any sense. Kissing a beautiful woman had never concerned him before. He didn’t know why it should give him second thoughts now. But kissing Lass had been different, he realized. So different that he wanted to do it over. He wanted to make sure it had actually felt that amazing.

“Why?”

Her mouth fell open. “You have to ask? Brady, I can’t even tell you my name! I don’t even know how old I am!”

He cupped his palm against the side of her face as his thoughts rolled back to the night he’d found her lying lifelessly in the ditch. When she’d finally regained consciousness and he’d sheltered her in his arms, he’d experienced some very unprofessional feelings and since he’d gotten to know her, those unprofessional feelings had only deepened. Hell, that was enough to scare any tried and true
bachelor. But it didn’t scare him enough to make him rise to his feet and walk away from her.

“Of course you can tell me your name,” he insisted. “It’s Lass.”

“Only temporarily.”

Ignoring that, he said, “And you certainly look old enough to kiss.”

She sighed. “Kate says you’re somewhat of a ladies’ man.”

He grimaced. “Grandma has a motormouth.”

“Then she was speaking the truth?”

Since she wasn’t trying to pull away, Brady made the most of the close proximity by delving his fingers into her silky hair, sliding them downward through the long strands.

“Look, Lass, I’m not going to pretend I’ve been some sort of saint. Especially when—”

“When I can’t even tell you what I’ve been,” she finished miserably. Then biting her bottom lip, she looked away. “I’m sorry, Brady. I had no right to question you about your past. Not when mine is a complete blank.”

“Lass, Lass,” he softly scolded, “no one has to give me your résumé for me to know that you are and were a lady. And in spite of what Grandma says about me, I’m a gentleman.”

Her eyes softened and then to Brady’s amazement, her face drew near to his. “Yes, I think you are,” she whispered.

The moment their lips touched, Brady realized he’d made a mistake. Her kiss didn’t just taste amazing; the sensations went far deeper than that. Like tremors of an earthquake, waves of pleasure vibrated through him, urged him to crush her close, to search out the mysterious sweetness of her lips.

Seconds could have passed or minutes, he didn’t know, but suddenly he felt her arms go around his neck and the sign of surrender brought a groan of triumph deep in his
throat. Her lips parted wider and he took advantage, slipping his tongue past their sweet curves and into the honeyed cavity of her mouth.

The intimate connection caused his head to reel and before he could get a grip on his senses, their surroundings began to float away. His hands began to urgently roam her body, his lips fought to totally capture hers and in the process he forgot everything but making love to the woman in his arms.

Until her hands slipped to his shoulders and pushed, her lips abruptly jerked away from his.

The sudden break jolted him and as he attempted to gather himself together, he wanted to ask her what was wrong, why had she interrupted something so incredible.

But one look at her face answered those questions for him. The two of them had been on the verge of losing control, of making love right here beside the pool. And she wasn’t all that happy about it.

Pushing a tangle of hair from her eyes, she said in a husky voice, “I think we’ve ‘walked’ enough for one night. Don’t you?”

Did she really expect him to answer that? He looked away from her and drew in several long, mind-cleansing breaths. What was happening here? He wasn’t supposed to want Lass this much. He wasn’t supposed to want any woman this much.

Rising from the chair, he reached for her hand. “You’re right, Lass. We’d better go in. Before our walk turns into a run.”

H
e’d been wrong to kiss Lass.

The next morning, as Brady drove south to the Mescalero Apache Indian Reservation, that dismal thought continued to swirl through his head. He’d misjudged the whole thing and instead of it being a pleasant little connection of the lips, the kiss had turned out to be a heated embrace that had turned him on his ear and left her strangely quiet for the remainder of the evening.

Now, all he could do was relive the experience over and over in his mind and wonder what it all meant. That the two of them had great chemistry together? There was no doubt about that. But he’d dated attractive women before and some of those occasions had turned into overnight delights. Yet he could easily admit that nothing about those unions had messed with his thinking or left him in such a mental fog. Lass was doing some
thing to him. Something that he didn’t understand or want to acknowledge.

Sighing, he glanced over to the empty seat of the pickup truck outfitted with a two-way radio, weapons and other police equipment. This morning he’d left Hank back in Ruidoso, scouring the more popular restaurants and motels where Lass might be remembered by the staff.

Normally, a case like hers wouldn’t receive this much investigative work from the sheriff’s department. Instead, Lass’s case would have fallen under the health and welfare services. But thankfully Sheriff Hamilton had agreed with Brady that the circumstances surrounding Lass’s amnesia smelled of criminal mischief and needed to be resolved.

Brady had no idea how long Ethan would keep the case open or how much time and manpower he would expend toward it. With county cost a factor, Brady knew the search couldn’t last forever. He couldn’t imagine having to tell Lass the effort to find her home and family had to come to an end. In fact, if it came down to it, Brady would use his own resources to find Lass’s identity.

But he prayed to God before any of that happened, something would turn up. Or even better, Lass would start to remember. Until then, Brady had his work cut out for him. Not only to find Lass’s past, but to also keep his growing attraction for the woman in a proper perspective. And his hands to himself.

Yeah, right, he thought, as he turned down the bumpy dirt road to the Chino homestead. That was like telling himself to quit eating whenever he was hungry.

Johnny Chino was two years older than Brady and had lived with his grandparents, Charlie and Naomi, since he was a tiny infant. His mother had been an unwed teenager, a wild and irresponsible girl who’d been spoiled since her
parents were older when she was born. She’d brought much shame on the Chino family. Shortly after Johnny had been born, she’d dumped the baby into her parents’ lap and left for parts unknown. A few years later, they’d gotten word that she’d been killed in an alcohol-related car crash.

Now Johnny’s grandparents were both in their nineties, but were still in good enough health to do for themselves. Even so, Johnny didn’t stray far from the home place and Brady often wondered if they were the reason the man had quit taking on tracking jobs. Rumor had it that he’d quit because of some tragedy that had occurred out in California. But Brady wasn’t one to listen to rumors. Nor was he one to question a friend just to satisfy a curiosity.

When Brady parked the truck in front of the house, two dogs, a red hound and a black collie, barked and ran toward the vehicle. Trusting that the dogs would remember him from his last visit a couple of months ago, he stepped to the ground.

By the time the dogs had surrounded him, a door slammed and he looked up to see Johnny stepping onto the long, wooden porch spanning the front of the small stucco house.

He was a tall, strongly built man, his long black hair pulled into a ponytail. His right cheekbone carried a faint scar, but it was his dark eyes that bore the true marks of his past. He stood where he was and waited for Brady to join him in the shade.

Lifting his hand in greeting, Brady approached the porch. Their tails wagging, the dogs trailed close on his heels.

“They remember you,” Johnny said, nodding toward the dogs.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Brady joked. “I’m pretty unforgettable.”

A quirk of a smile moved a corner of Johnny’s mouth as he motioned to a tattered lawn chair. “Come sit.”

Brady climbed the steps and took a seat. Johnny slouched against the wall of the house and pulled a piece of willow from his pocket and opened his pocket knife.

“How are your grandparents, Johnny?” he asked politely.

“Old. Very old.”

Well, his friend always did have a way of summing up a situation with very few words, Brady thought wryly.

“You probably know why I’m here,” Brady said. In spite of this part of the reservation being remote, he knew that news of any sort traveled quickly from one family to the next. No doubt Johnny had already heard a woman had been found in the mountains.

“Maybe.”

Brady did his best to contain a sigh of impatience. This was one man he couldn’t hurry and if he tried, he’d probably blow the whole reason for the visit.

“The girl doesn’t know who she is,” Brady explained. “And I can’t figure out what happened. At least, I haven’t yet.”

“I’m no lawman.”

“No. But you’d make a good one,” Brady said honestly.

Johnny’s knife blade sliced through the piece of willow and a curl of wood fell to the porch floor.

“I don’t track anymore.”

Brady couldn’t let things die there. Lass and her happiness meant too much to him. “I was hoping you’d break out of retirement for me. Just this one time.”

“The dogs don’t track anymore, either.”

Brady looked around to see both dogs had flopped down in a hole they had scratched near the end of the porch. Their energy level appeared to match Johnny’s.

“Since when have you needed dogs to help you?” Brady asked.

“I don’t track anymore,” he repeated.

Rubbing his hands over his knees, Brady tried to hide his frustration. “Johnny, I thought we were friends. Good friends.”

Johnny’s rough features tightened, but he said nothing.

One minute, then two, then three finally ticked by in pregnant silence. If it had been anyone else besides Johnny, Brady would have set in with a long speech about how they’d stood up for each other in high school, how they’d always had each other’s backs on the football field, and how after Brady’s grandfather had died, they’d camped together on Bonito Lake for a whole week. Because at that time, Johnny had understood how much Brady had needed to be with a friend.

But Brady didn’t remind the other man of their close ties. He knew that Johnny hadn’t forgotten anything.

“This girl,” Johnny said finally, “she means a lot to you?”

Brady let out a long breath. Means a lot? Leave it to his old buddy’s simple question to make Brady really think about what Lass was becoming to him, how important her happiness had come to mean to him. “Yeah. She…well, I like her better than any girl I can ever remember.”

His friend didn’t make an immediate reply to that and while Brady waited, he watched a pair of guinea hens strut across the dusty yard. He tried to imagine Johnny living in Albuquerque or Santa Fe, but that was like picturing a mountain lion in a cage.

“Show me where you found her,” Johnny finally said. “And I’ll try to get the dogs interested.”

More grateful than he ever expected to feel, Brady swallowed a sigh of relief, then rose to his feet and walked over to Johnny.

At that moment, he could have said a lot of things to his old friend. Like how much he valued their friendship. How
much he appreciated his help and how much he thanked him for always being around whenever he needed him. But Johnny already knew all of that. And the quiet Apache would be insulted to hear such platitudes from Brady. To Johnny a true bond needed no words to keep it strong.

Instead, Brady touched a hand to his shoulder. “Fine. But before we go, I’d like to say hello to your grandparents.”

Johnny opened the front door of the little stucco and motioned for Brady to precede him into the house. As Brady stepped into the cool, dimly lit living room, all he could think about was that he was now one giant step closer to finding Lass’s identity.

But what was that going to bring to her? To him? Was all of this effort to find her past, eventually going to tear her from his arms?

Brady couldn’t let himself think about those questions. Because the minute he did he would quit being the Chief Deputy of Lincoln County and simply become a man.

At the same time, some twenty miles away, in a small boutique in downtown Ruidoso, Lass ambled slowly through the aisles of lingerie while close behind her, Dallas made helpful suggestions.

“I love this pink lace,” Dallas said, pausing to examine a set of bra and panties draped from a padded satin hanger. “This would look great on you, Lass.”

A faint blush colored Lass’s face. “Those are very expensive. Especially when…well, no one is going to see what I’m wearing underneath,” she reasoned.

“Lass! Since when did a woman start worrying about that? We wear this stuff because it makes us feel sexy and pretty. And who’s worrying about the cost, anyway? I’m not.”

Following up on her invitation from yesterday, Dallas
had insisted on bringing Lass to town today to shop for personal items. So far she’d purchased a sack full of inexpensive makeup, hair-styling tools, two pair of shoes, a handbag and wallet. Though what she expected to put inside the wallet, she didn’t know. Without money, ID, credit cards, or a checkbook, she had little use for one. But Dallas had insisted, saying eventually that Brady was going to solve the whole thing and then Lass would need a place to put her driver’s license and other important information.

“I can see that you’re not concerned about the expense. But I am,” Lass told her.

Dallas rolled her green eyes. “Oh, Lass, I rarely leave the stables to do anything. Much less shopping. And to have someone else to buy for makes this spree all that much better. Now please don’t spoil my fun. Come on and loosen up. Pick out your size in this pink and then we’ll find something in black. With your hair color you’ll sizzle!”

Sizzle? Lass didn’t need black lingerie to make her sizzle. Brady could easily get that job done.

Oh, Lord, why couldn’t she quit thinking about the man? Why couldn’t she get last night out of her mind? she wondered, as a flush of embarrassed heat warmed her cheeks. She’d never behaved so recklessly with a man. Never felt such a raw, unbridled urge to make love.

So how do you know that, Lass? Your mind is a blank blackboard. It can’t tell you whether you’ve had a boyfriend or lover or even a husband! How can it tell you that Brady made you feel things you’ve never felt before?

Because something deep down, something more than her mind was speaking to her, she mentally flung back at the little voice.

To Dallas she said with a measure of uncertainty, “I’m not really sure I want to sizzle, Dallas.”

Dallas laughed. “Honey, every woman from nine to ninety wants to feel a little spark now and then. And even though no one can tell us your exact age, I think we can safely assume you fit somewhere in that category.”

With a good-natured groan, Lass followed Dallas’s orders and searched through the pink lingerie until she found the correct size. But as the two women moved on down the aisle, past the cotton undergarments, Lass touched her friend’s arm.

“Dallas, wait a minute. Look at this stuff. Have you stopped to consider that I might be a cotton sort of girl?”

Dallas shot her a look of wry disbelief and Lass made a helpless gesture with her hands.

“See what I mean! I don’t remember anything about myself. It’s…scary. I could have been a mousy little librarian afraid to date even a nerd or—God forbid—maybe I was one of those women who flaunted themselves and had boyfriends scattered all over town!”

Dallas began to laugh, then, spotting the distress on Lass’s face, she gently curved a reassuring arm around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lass, I know that none of this seems funny to you. But the idea of you being either one of those types of women is ridiculous. You have amnesia, not a personality disorder. Believe me, if Brady had thought you were wild and crazy, he wouldn’t have brought you home to the ranch. And trust me, he’s a good judge of character.”

After last night, there was no telling how he was judging her character, Lass thought. Stifling a groan, she said, “Well, I’m just very grateful that he decided to help me. That all of you are helping me.”

Dallas gave her shoulders another squeeze. “Look, Lass, I’m actually a selfish person. I love having your
company. Brita’s so busy with her career as a doctor and Maura’s time is consumed with her own family. She has an eighteen-month-old son, Riley, and two weeks ago she gave birth to another son, Michael, so I don’t have a sister to pal with anymore and you’re the next best thing. The fact that you’re a horsewoman like me just makes it even better.” She shook her head with wry disbelief. “Isn’t it destiny,” she went on, “that you ended up on our horse farm?”

Destiny? Sometimes Lass felt as if she were in the twilight zone or some freakish dream that was too good to be true. She worried that at any moment she would wake and be jerked back to some dark place she didn’t want to be.

“Very,” Lass agreed. “And if your brother hadn’t found me that night—I might not even be alive today.”

Dropping her arm from her shoulders, Dallas urged her on down the aisle and away from the cotton underwear. “I can tell my brother likes you,” she declared. “A lot.”

Lass glanced around the store, as though she suspected anyone hearing such a comment would burst out laughing. From what Kate had told her, Brady’s acquaintances with women ranged all over the county and beyond. He’d never lacked female attention. In fact, Kate said that more often than not, Brady had more trouble getting rid of a girlfriend than acquiring one. And after that kiss he’d given Lass last night, she could certainly understand why. The man’s charm was so strong it deserved a warning label.

Picking up a black camisole, she studied the lace edging that would frame her bosom in a very provocative way. “I understand that Brady likes
a lot
of women,” Lass murmured as she fingered the whisper light silk.