The Deputy's Lost and Found (9 page)

Mother? Yes. Her dear, sweet mother.

Bending her head, Lass fought to hold on to the image, to connect it to a name, a place. And then without warning, Lass could see herself standing next to a grave. The mound of dirt was covered with fresh flowers and a crowd of mourners was gathered in the quiet cemetery. She sensed that her father was at her side, but she couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear to hear him say that her mother was truly gone.

“Oh, God. Oh, no!” With a sob catching in her throat, Lass lifted her head to stare at Brady. Sorrow, dark and heavy, fell over her, while angry fists pounded at her heart. “I—I’ve remembered my mother,” she finally managed to say in a broken voice. “And—she’s dead, Brady. I don’t have a mother anymore.”

Clearly stunned, Brady studied her wounded face. “Lass,” he began softly, “are you certain about this? Maybe you’re seeing some other relative, or a friend?”

“No. It’s my mother. My heart is telling me it’s my mother. I can’t give you her name or where we lived, but I do know that the image was her and that she…is gone.”

As she spoke the last word tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. Brady gathered her into his arms and cradled her head against his chest.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

He was stroking her back, waiting for her sobs to subside, when footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor and he looked around to see his grandmother approaching
them. No doubt she and his father had grown tired of waiting and Kate had come to let the hammer down.

But after one sweeping glance of the situation, Kate’s annoyed expression turned to concern. “What’s happened?”

Brady was shocked to find he had to swallow before he could answer his grandmother’s question. “Lass has remembered her mother.”

Kate arched a brow at him. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Over Lass’s head, Brady exchanged a troubled look with his grandmother. “It would be—but she’s remembered that her mother has passed away.”

“Oh, the poor little darling.” Immediately, Kate marched forward and gently eased Lass out of Brady’s arms. “Come on, honey,” she said to Lass, “let me take you to the family room where you can lie down.”

As Brady watched his grandmother slowly lead Lass away, he felt oddly empty and more than shaken. To see Lass in such grief had been the same as someone stabbing him with a knife. And the moment Kate had pulled Lass from his arms, he’d wanted to snatch her back.

He was the one who should be consoling Lass. He was the one who wanted to soothe her tears, make her happy. But how could he ever expect to do that? He couldn’t even give her something as simple as her real name.

F
or the next week and a half Lass tried to come to terms with her mother’s death and the reality that something unhappy had been going on in her former life. Along with reflections of her mother and the menacing man gripping her wrist, snippets of another person had been entering her mind at unexpected moments. Even though names and places still eluded her, Lass was quite certain the image was that of her father—although she’d not yet gotten a clear picture of his face, she recognized his big frame and deep voice.

Each time her father’s image flashed through her mind, she was consumed with sadness and confusion. Clearly, all had not been right between father and daughter. But Lass had no idea what had brought about such dissension in the family. She only knew that whatever had occurred now left her feeling cold and empty.

Bridget had continued to check on Lass every day and
the family practitioner kept insisting that Lass needed to start talks with a mental therapist. But so far Lass was reluctant to begin. She’d already remembered enough to tell her that she’d left bad things behind her. Why should she let a therapist, or anyone for that matter, send her back to that place? Lass didn’t want to go back. She wanted to move forward. And perhaps that was the crux of the matter, she thought dismally. Like the psychiatrist in the hospital had initially suggested, her mind refused to remember, because she simply didn’t want it to.

Still, Lass was smart enough to understand that she couldn’t live in limbo forever. The time would soon come when she would be forced to seek help from a medical specialist. But in the meantime, she wanted to live as though she was as normal as the next person.

These past days, Lass had worked at Dallas’s riding clinic from early in the mornings to late in the evenings. She’d been doing everything from grooming and tacking the horses to assisting the children with their rides.

The task of dealing with both children and horses couldn’t have been more perfect for Lass. The job had given her more than pleasure; it had filled her with new confidence. Now she felt as though she was serving a useful purpose rather than sponging off the Donovans. And the fact that Brady had been showing up at the stables these past few evenings made the job doubly pleasurable.

Dallas had told her that occasionally in the past, whenever his work schedule allowed, Brady showed up at the stables to donate his time and labor to whatever was needed around the place. But she insisted that her brother had never appeared at the stables for several days running. Usually his social calendar took up most of his free time.

Dallas attributed his sudden interest in the stables to
Lass’s presence, but Lass wasn’t convinced that was the only reason Brady had been spending time at the riding clinic. He seemed to genuinely care for the children and went out of his way to make them happy. On one particular evening, he’d ridden for nearly an hour behind the saddle of one very small girl just to help her gain confidence in handling her mount. And last night after everyone had dismounted and gone into the barn for refreshments, he’d gathered the children together and told them a funny story that had kept them all laughing.

Seeing Brady at the stables had shown Lass a side of him that she’d never expected to see. In spite of his single-guy image, he dealt with the children as any good father would. And even though he’d told Lass that he didn’t have a special touch with horses, he handled and rode them better than she and Dallas put together.

Lass was learning there were many more sides to the man and each one he revealed drew her to him even more. Yet she continued to remind herself that her time with Brady was borrowed. Where he was concerned, she couldn’t give her emotions free reins. Not if she ever expected to leave this ranch with her heart fully intact.

They had not kissed again, though Lass hadn’t been able to forget that last kiss. An occasional holding of hands and a few touches and gentle kisses had been all the contact they’d had. And Lass had tried to convince herself that it was what she’d wanted.

Even so, this particular evening, she’d found herself glancing around, wondering if or when he was going to show up. After a very busy day, things were beginning to wind down and now only a handful of children were mounted and circling their horses around the outdoor arena.

Earlier this afternoon, Dallas had gone to Ruidoso for
business reasons and left Lass in charge of operations. So far Lass hadn’t run into any problems. Except for one little boy with dark brown hair, a metal brace on his leg and a very sad look on his face. His name was Tyler and since his arrival a couple of hours ago, he’d never left his seat on the bale of hay stacked near the arena fence. Earlier Lass had tried to coax him into the saddle, but he’d refused to budge.

Now, with plans to try again, she walked up to the boy. “Tyler, aren’t you getting tired of sitting there? Would you like to walk with me over to the saddling corral?”

“Nope. I like it here,” he said stubbornly.

“Oh. Well, I think it’s time I rested my feet. Do you mind sharing your seat?”

He shrugged one slender shoulder. “Suit yourself.”

After easing down beside the child, Lass crossed her boots out in front of her. “Is this your first visit to the stables?”

Looking bored now, the boy shook his head. “Nope. I was here once before—a long time ago.”

“Hmm. I guess that was before I started helping around here,” she said thoughtfully. “Did you ride a horse then?”

“Nope. I didn’t want to ride then and I don’t want to ride now,” he said flatly. “The only reason I’m here is because my mom made me come.”

“Awww,” Lass groaned with disappointment. “That’s too bad. When I first saw you sitting here, I thought to myself, now I’ll bet that young man loves horses almost as much as I do. I guess I was really wrong about you.”

His lips clamped into a tight purse, but it was simply taking more strength than he could muster to hold them that way for long. Suddenly words began to burst from him like air from a balloon.

“That ain’t so! I love horses!”

Lass smiled to herself. “Really? That’s great to hear. So why aren’t you riding today?”

He pulled a face at her that said she must be blind or stupid, or both. “Can’t you see? I gotta wear this brace. I can’t bend my leg.”

Lass had already talked to Dallas about Tyler’s condition and she’d learned that eventually the brace would be removed and the boy’s leg would be straight and perfect enough to walk, run and jump like any normal child. But in the meantime, Tyler clearly thought that day was a lifetime away.

“So? That doesn’t mean you can’t sit in the saddle. You’re sitting on this hay bale, aren’t you? And Ms. Dallas has already saddled Cloudwalker for you. He’s a pretty black-and-white paint and he loves attention. Wouldn’t you like to ride him?”

He looked angry and hopeless at the same time and then his bottom lip thrust forward and began to tremble. “Yeah. But I don’t want to fall off.”

Easing her arm around the child’s slender shoulders, she said, “Look, Tyler, it’s okay to be scared. I know just how you feel.”

“I doubt it,” he mumbled. “I’ll bet you didn’t wear any ol’ brace like this.”

“No. But I once had to wear a cast on my arm for a long time. And at first I was very sad about it. Because I was afraid to ride my horse. His name was Rusty and I loved him more than anything, but I was sure if I got on him I’d fall and break my arm all over again.”

Interest sparked in the child’s brown eyes. “So what did you do?”

“My father finally reminded me that Rusty was special. The horse was my best friend and he understood that he needed to take extra care of me and not go too fast or make
sharp turns. My father told me that if I couldn’t trust my best friend, then I would be scared of all sorts of things for the rest of my life. So I decided I wasn’t going to let a cast on my arm make me scared or ruin my fun.”

Tyler digested this, then thoughtfully tilted his head to one side. “Yeah, but Cloudwalker ain’t my friend,” he pointed out. “He don’t even know me.”

“Not yet. But he’d like to make friends with you. And he’s like Rusty, he’s a very special horse. You can trust him to take care of you. I promise.”

“Say, what is this? Are you giving my girl a hard time?”

Both Tyler and Lass turned their heads to see Brady had walked up behind them. He was still dressed in his uniform, but she was grateful to see he’d considered the children and put away his handgun and holster.

Lass rose to her feet to greet him and he quickly slipped his arm around her waist and gathered her to his side. As she smiled at him, she couldn’t stop her heart from jumping with joy or stop it from thinking how right it felt to be wrapped in the sheltered circle of his arm.

Rather than appearing intimidated, Tyler surprised her by taking the offensive. “Who says she’s your girl?”

“I do. That’s who,” Brady shot back at him.

Backing down, Tyler mumbled, “Oh. Well, I wasn’t tryin’ to steal her from you or anything.”

“That’s good to know. For a minute there I thought you were giving her the eye.” Brady gave Lass a discreet little wink. “So why aren’t you riding…uh, what did you say your name was? Jim-Bob? Frankie?”

The child rolled his eyes. “No! It’s Tyler!”

“Okay, Ty. So why aren’t you riding? Think you’re better than all the other kids? Or are you afraid you’ll fall off and everyone will laugh at you?”

Lass very nearly gasped, but stopped just short of it. Clearly, Brady understood what it was like to be a little boy of Tyler’s age. He ought to know how to handle the child better than she. But wasn’t he being a little tough?

She didn’t have to wonder for long. Tyler instantly hopped off the bale of hay and squared around to face Brady.

“I ain’t afraid to ride any ol’ horse here!” he exclaimed. “And I won’t fall off, either! I’m just as good a cowboy as you are!”

Chuckling now, Brady reached out and affectionately ruffled the child’s hair. “Probably better. Now come on and show me what you’re made of. Guts or sawdust?”

Tyler thrust his little stomach forward and pointed to the pouch he’d made. “I’ve got plenty of guts! See! I’ll show ya!”

“I can’t wait,” Brady dared.

Tyler tugged on Lass’s sleeve. “Come on, Miss Lass. Let’s go get Cloudwalker!”

With a groan and a grin, Lass shook her head. “Male mentality. I don’t understand it.”

Ten minutes later, Tyler was in the saddle and insisting he could take the reins and handle the horse on his own.

Brady lifted the bridle reins over the paint’s head and placed them in Tyler’s hands. After a few last-minute instructions, he said, “Okay, off you go. And if you need me or Miss Lass we’ll be right here.”

“I won’t,” he said, then confidently set the horse in forward motion.

Standing at one end of the arena, Lass and Brady watched him slowly clop toward the rest of the children.

“Well, I guess he showed you he had guts,” she said.

Brady chuckled. “Yes. But you’d already talked him into facing his fears. I just put the rest in motion.”

She glanced at him. “I didn’t know you heard my story.”

“I’d been standing there longer than you think. You’ve got a pretty good imagination. At least, it worked on Tyler.”

Her brows arched. “Imagination? I’ll have you know that was a true story.”

It was Brady’s turn to look surprised. “Really? You actually broke your arm and had a horse named Rusty?”

“Yes. And my father did tell me those things about facing my fears.” With a helpless sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? I can remember those sorts of things yet I can’t remember names or where I lived—except that I believe it was somewhere in Texas.”

“Your memory is returning, though. You’re recalling more and more. Who knows, in a few days everything may come back to you.”

“You could be right,” Lass murmured. Each day that passed brought more and more snippets of her past to mind. Bridget called them small signs that her memory was healing. So why didn’t that idea bring her more joy? Because she didn’t want to face her past? Or because she didn’t want to leave this man? A man she’d already fallen in love with?

“Lass, this horse, Rusty, can you remember where you got him? What he looked like?”

Her forehead puckered as she contemplated his questions. “Not exactly. He was sorrel with a long flaxen mane and tail. And I think he had a blaze down his face.”

“What about a brand?”

She glanced at him. “A brand?”

“Yes. It’s a long shot, but if he had a brand we might trace his ownership.”

“I see.” She closed her eyes and tried to picture her beloved childhood friend more clearly. “I think—I’m not sure, but I seem to remember there was something on his left hip. Something like an initial. Like a—a
P
. Yes, it was a
P!
”

Encouraged, he nodded. “Good. That’s a start. But I doubt one single letter would be used for a brand. It would need a distinguishing mark with it. Like a Bar or Rafter. Rocking. Wings for Flying P. Does any of that ring a bell?”

For several moments, she rolled those possibilities around, then shook her head. Brady was trying so hard to move her case forward. She didn’t want to disappoint him. And yet when he asked her to try to remember, her mind recoiled. Dear God, she felt torn in all directions.

“None of that sounds right,” she told him. “But I’ll try to remember. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it, Lass. We still have more options to put into motion.”

He glanced thoughtfully out at the children who were presently riding in an obedient circle over the tilled ground. Following his gaze, Lass was happy to see that Tyler was already mixing with the other children, and from the smile on his young face, appeared to have forgotten all about the brace on his leg.

“Since we’ve been busy with Tyler, I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet,” he said. “This afternoon, before I left headquarters, I obtained a bit more information about your case.”

Lass suddenly froze. “Information? From where? Whom?”

“A jockey. He’d been riding at Ruidoso Downs earlier that Sunday afternoon on the day you were injured. Seems this jockey recalls seeing you at the track that day.”