Read High Lonesome Online

Authors: Stacey Coverstone

High Lonesome (2 page)

He disappeared into the master bathroom as Carmen picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed. As she waited for an answer, Scott returned and gently swabbed the dirt and sweat from the woman’s face.


Buenos dias
. This is Carmen Rios calling from the High Lonesome. We have an injured guest out here, and Mr. Landry would like to know if Doctor Coleman could come out and take a look at her. Uh-huh. I’ll hold.” Carmen placed her hand over the receiver. “The receptionist is going to check Dr. Coleman’s schedule.”

“Thank you.” When he finished, Scott hung the washcloth over the footboard rail, while his gaze remained glued to the woman. The cords on his neck flexed and quivered as he contemplated her predicament. Settling into the overstuffed club chair next to the bed that he’d slept in ever since he was a boy, he watched her curl herself into a ball.

“The lady’s cold, Mr. Scott. Cover her up,” Carmen ordered.

He jumped up and tucked the old homemade comforter around her shoulders.

“Look at that,” Carmen whispered. “The poor lamb is asleep already. She must be exhausted.”

“I think she’s been through quite an ordeal,” Scott replied. “I don’t believe she’s from these parts. I’ve never seen her before.”

Carmen didn’t mince words. “She looks a mess. What do you think happened to her?”

“Something bad. She has a big knot on her head, as well as bruising on her arm. It looks like she’s been attacked or beaten. She was surprised to learn she was in New Mexico, and she can’t remember her name.”

Carmen gasped and made the sign of the cross. “Oh, my. Do you think she has amnesia?”

“That would be my guess.”

Removing her hand from the telephone mouthpiece, Carmen said, “
Si
, I’m here. Okay. Thank you very much.” She hung up the phone. “Doctor Coleman will be by in a few minutes. Apparently she’s not far from here.”

“That’s good timing. Thanks, Carmen. Is there anything else we should do for her while we wait?”

“I’ll fix some hot tea and reheat the leftover soup from dinner last night. She appears to be very weak. She can eat when she wakes up.”

“Good idea. God knows how long she’s been wandering the desert.”

“She looks at peace right now, like a sweet angel.” Carmen’s lips curled into a smile.

“That was my exact thought when I first saw her. The poor thing sure was scared. She tried to run away from me, but she didn’t have the physical strength to get far. Of course, I don’t blame her for running. She was disoriented and frightened.” Scott glanced at his watch. He may have found himself involved in a mystery at the moment, but he still had a business to run. “When we drove in I saw Cody and the guests saddling the horses. Is he taking them out for a trail ride?”


Si
. I packed them sack lunches. They won’t be back until late afternoon.”

“Good. You can go back to what you were doing, Carmen. I’ll stay here with the lady. Just send Joanna up when she arrives. Please,” he added, remembering his manners.

“Will do, Mr. Scott. I’ll get a tray ready for when she wakes.”

Carmen left the room and he sunk back down into the chair next to the bed. He watched the woman’s chest rise and fall steadily beneath the comforter and wondered aloud. “Who are you, and where did you come from?”

With a sudden unexpected ferocity, she groaned and kicked the blanket off. Tossing her head back and forth, a blood-curdling scream erupted from her throat.

Scott shot to his feet and shook her arm. When her eyes flew open, he leaned forward and stroked her arm. “Did you have a bad dream?”

She nodded, her forehead glistening with perspiration.

Carmen yelled from the bottom of the stairs. “What happened up there?”

“It was just a bad dream. She’s all right,” he called back. As an afterthought, he hollered, “You can go ahead and bring up the soup when it’s ready.”

“All right.”

Scott knelt at the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” the woman whispered.

He smiled. “My cook is bringing some food up for you, and I’ve called a doctor. She’ll be here real soon to check you out. Do you still not remember how you got hurt or where you’re from?”

“No. What’s wrong with me? My brain feels fuzzy.”

“You sustained a blow to your head. I’m sure that’s why you’re confused and have a headache. Try not to worry. The amnesia is probably temporary.”

“Amnesia?” Her green eyes popped open wide. “You think I have amnesia? Is that why I can’t remember anything?”

“I’m not a doctor, but it appears that way. We’ll see what Doctor Coleman has to say.”

Carmen entered the room carrying a tray with a bowl of soup, some bread, and a cup of tea on it. Scott formally introduced the two women. “This is Carmen Rios. She’s the best cook in all of New Mexico.”

“Nice to meet you.” The woman nodded hello.

“The pleasure is mine,” Carmen said, returning the greeting.

“Do you think you can sit up?” Scott asked. “You’ll probably feel better if you eat something. There’s no telling how long it’s been since you had food or drink.”

With his help, she scooted to a sitting position and leaned against the pillow. “I
am
hungry. My stomach feels empty.”

Carmen lowered the bed tray across the woman’s lap. “Do you like tortilla soup?”

“I’m not sure I’ve ever had it before. It smells good.”

Placing the spoon in the woman’s hands, as if she were a child, Carmen drew it to her mouth. “Eat all of this. I guarantee it will make you feel one hundred percent better.”

“Thank you.” The woman swallowed, licked her lips, and requested more.

Grinning with pride, Carmen said, “When you’ve finished with the soup, you can drink my special tea with chili pepper. It will invigorate you.”

The woman tossed Scott a quizzical glance.

He chuckled. “You’ll want to do as she says. I own the ranch, but she’s the real boss around here. Keep eating that soup. I think the color is already starting to come back into your face.”

“Hello? Scott?” a familiar voice called from downstairs.

Scott softly patted the woman’s hand. “That’ll be the doctor. I’ll be right back.” He excused himself and stepped into the hallway. Peering over the railed balcony to the great room below, he waved and said, “We’re up here.”

Wearing a white physician’s jacket over a navy pencil skirt perfect for showing off her slender physique, Joanna Coleman ascended the main staircase, carrying a black medical bag.

“Thanks for coming over so quickly,” Scott told her when she reached the top. “Hope I didn’t take you away from anything important.”

“No problem. I happened to be in the neighborhood checking on Sam Turner. My receptionist reached me on my cell phone.” She flashed him a bright smile under short blonde hair. “She said it was an emergency.”

“Yeah, I’d call it that for sure.” Scott lowered his voice and explained the situation while they stood in the hall. “I was coming home from town and came across this woman stumbling down the road. It’s obvious she’s been in an accident. You’ll see she has a lump on her head and a nasty bruise on the inside of her arm. I think she has amnesia as well.”

Joanna cast him a surprised look. “Why do you think that?”

“She doesn’t know where her car is, and she can’t remember her name or where she’s from. She doesn’t know how she got hurt. She has no ID on her, but I’m sure she’s not from around here. I’ve never seen her before, and she said none of the area looked familiar.”

“Let me take a look at her.” Joanna strode into the bedroom. “Good morning, Carmen,” she greeted Scott’s longtime cook.

“Morning, Miss Joanna.”

Joanna stood at the side of Scott’s bed and introduced herself to the woman. “Hello. I’m Doctor Coleman.” She glanced at the tray on her lap. “I see Ms. Rios has been treating you with her fabulous cooking.”

“Yes. It was delicious. The soup made me feel better. Thank you again,” she said, handing the empty soup bowl to Carmen.

“You’re welcome,” Carmen said, beaming.

“Carmen’s food can cure more ailments than modern medicine,” Scott added, sounding more like a proud son than her employer.

Joanna pulled on plastic gloves and leaned over the patient. “Do you mind if I take a look at that bump on your head before I check your vitals?”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t mind.”

“Let me move this out of the way,” Carmen said, taking away the tray.

Joanna examined the knot, and then took the woman’s blood pressure and temperature. “Mr. Landry tells me you can’t remember your name or how you can to be injured.” She placed a stethoscope against the brunette’s chest and listened.

Responding to the doctor with a bob of her head, the woman replied, “I don’t seem to remember much of anything right now. I’ve been racking my brains for any kind of memory about what may have happened to me, but it feels like I’m in a fog.”

“You’ve got quite a hematoma on your forehead, but your vitals are good. Is your arm sore?” Joanna turned it over and examined the bruising.

The woman flinched and nodded.

“I apologize. Do your legs or back hurt?”

“I feel sore all over—like I’ve been run over or beaten with a club or something.”

Scott and Carmen exchanged subtle glances. Carmen made the sign of the cross again.

Joanna straightened and studied the woman. “With your consent, I think it’d be prudent to do a rape kit.” Scott grimaced at her businesslike manner and tone.

The woman glanced at Scott and bowed her head, flush with embarrassment. When he met Joanna’s gaze, he felt his cheeks burn with pity. Carmen looked down at her shoes.

“Mr. Landry, perhaps you and Carmen could wait downstairs,” Joanna said, steering them out of the bedroom. “I’ll let you know when I’m done here.”

“Sure.” Scott stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded for Carmen to follow him out of the room, which she did with no hesitation.

An hour later, Joanna found the two of them in the kitchen sitting at the island having coffee.

“There’s no physical evidence of rape,” she reported, “but I’ll take the sample I collected back to the lab to be one hundred percent sure.”

Carmen sighed and stepped to the sink and plunged her hands in soapy water.

“That’s a relief,” Scott replied. “Can I go back up now?”

“Yes. I’ll go with you.”

The two of them took the back stairs to his bedroom. Joanna reached into her bag and pulled out a small pad. “I’ll prescribe something for your pain,” she told the woman once they’d returned to her side. “I’d also like to schedule you for an EEG and a CT scan, in order to assess your head injury. It’s obvious you’ve suffered some kind of blunt trauma, but it’s impossible to know whether you hit your head on something hard or were struck with an object.”

The woman cringed. “Are you suggesting someone intentionally hurt me?”

“I’m sorry,” Joanna said. “That thought must be difficult to fathom. I apologize for blurting it out that way. It’s a definite possibility, but let’s not jump to any conclusions. Either way, the injury has caused you to suffer a neurological deficit. In layman’s terms, you’re suffering from amnesia, which Mr. Landry already suspected. We need to be sure there’s no skull fracture. How soon could you arrange to go to the clinic and have those tests run?”

Scott spoke up. “I can take her whenever you can get her in. You name the day and time and we’ll be there.”

“All right.” Joanna pulled her day planner out of the black bag and consulted it. “How about later this afternoon? I have an acquaintance at the clinic who owes me a favor. I’ll arrange for an appointment around three o’clock, if that suits you.”

Scott nodded once, firmly. “The sooner the better, for her sake.”

“Okay, then. See you both later today.”

“Thank you, doctor.” The woman offered her hand to shake.

Scott noticed she still trembled. Joanna shook her hand. “You’re welcome. Try and get some rest, drink lots of liquids, and,” her voice took on a lighter note, “I’d suggest enjoying more of Ms. Rios’s cooking.” She picked up her medical bag and said goodbye.

“I’ll be right back,” Scott told the woman as he trailed Joanna out the door. She walked down the stairs ahead of him and bypassed the hall that led to the kitchen, heading to the front door instead. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floors. No words were spoken between them until they’d passed through the foyer and stepped onto the front porch. “I appreciate you interrupting your schedule and running out here,” he said. “I never dreamed I’d wake up this morning and something like this would happen.” The wheels in Scott’s brain spun like whirlwinds. “One of the first things I need to do is try to find out where she’s from and if she has any family. They must be frantic, worrying about what’s happened to her. I’ll call Buddy. The sheriff’s department is the natural place to start.”

Joanna concurred with some hesitation. “Of course you should call him, but the one missing person case he worked on was the time Connor Russell’s sister thought he’d been kidnapped by some drug dealers. If you’ll recall, Buddy found Con under the high school bleachers all liquored up, and the only thing missing was his pants. Here in podunk Ghost Rock, hunting out of season is about the biggest crime Buddy ever has to deal with. He won’t know where to begin with a real case like this.” She rolled her eyes.

“You shouldn’t talk about your ex-husband that way,” Scott said. “He’s good at his job. He wouldn’t have been elected sheriff two years ago at the age of thirty if he wasn’t. You never want to give him any credit.”

She sighed. “Why should I? You defend that goofball plenty for the both of us.”

“Buddy doesn’t need defending. And he’s not a goofball. He’s a damn good sheriff.” Scott leaned against the side of the house with his boot hiked against it.

Joanna squeezed his shoulder. “You have to say that. He’s your best friend. I admire your loyalty, Scott, but sometimes you let your friendship with Buddy stand in the way of
our
relationship.”

“I don’t think I do,” he retorted. “He’s been my best friend since we were kids. You knew when we started dating that I’d never give that friendship up. Buddy and I talked about it— about you and me going out—and he told me he was okay with it. But I still question whether he’s being honest with himself. I wouldn’t be okay if the situation was reversed. To be honest, it’s still uncomfortable for me, at times.”

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