an unfamiliar brisk male voice. “We are unable to come to the phone now. Please leave your message, your name, your number, and we will get back with you when possible.”
Ben swore again as he waited. A loud beep rang in his ear and he gripped the phone tightly. “Weston, I have to talk to you. You know the number. Your messenger was in a car wreck.” Ben slammed down the phone and thought of the executives who worked for his father. He could call one of them, but they wouldn’t do anything until his father gave orders.
Then he thought of Mark Kisiel, vice president of Falcon Drilling and a man Ben had always respected. He called Information, got Mark’s number and dialed, getting another recorded message. At the sound of the beep, Ben moved closer to the phone. “Mark, this is Ben. The woman messenger has been in a wreck. She isn’t badly injured, but she doesn’t belong here. Get my father to call. He knows the number.” Ben replaced the receiver and stared at the phone, finally deciding he couldn’t do anything else until he heard from his father or Mark.
Ben strode toward the double glass doors and stared at the yellow lights in the parking lot. The snow was still falling in the golden circles cast by the lamps, spreading in shiny, wet puddles on the slushy, salt-covered asphalt. He could tell them to contact his father about Jennifer and walk out now, leaving her in the care of the hospital and the police. Instead, he turned around and sat on a vinyl chair, staring at the snow while he waited, suspecting his father’s birthday last month had triggered this intrusion. Perhaps Weston was finally facing his own mortality and wanted to try again to bring his son back into the business. Bitterness and a coldness more chilling than the snow filled Ben. He closed his eyes and sat quietly waiting.
“Ben?”
Ben rose and crossed the room to Kyle who was marking something on a chart. “Dr. Hobson checked her, too,” Kyle said. “She has a mild concussion, no internal bleeding, no hemorrhaging. She’s bruised a rib, sprained her ankle. Beyond that, it’s minor cuts and bruises, and you did a nice job of tending her wounds. I want to keep her overnight for observation. In this storm, you can’t get out anyway.”
“I can go home in daylight the same way I got in. Put her in a room, and tomorrow I’ll charter a chopper to take us home.”
“That’ll be a big bill for a total stranger,” Kyle said, studying him more closely. Ben had known Kyle in college and when Ben had moved to the area, he had been surprised the first time he had broken a rib riding in a rodeo and had encountered Kyle at the hospital. Since then, when Ben was in Albuquerque, they occasionally had lunch together. Ben could count close friends on the fingers of one hand, but the orthopedic surgeon was one of them.
Ben shrugged. “I have to get back to the ranch tomorrow. My cattle will need hay dropped, so I can use the chopper before I send it back. When will her memory return?”
“I didn’t tell her—if it doesn’t return within two weeks, it may not return at all.” Kyle tucked the clipboard under his arm. “Where will you stay tonight?”
“I’ll get one of those lounge chairs in her room and I’ll stay with her.”
Curiosity burned in Kyle’s brown eyes, but he merely nodded.
“Kyle, I think my father sent her here,” Ben said quietly.
Kyle’s sandy brows raised in question. “I thought he’d quit coming after you. You know who she is?” he asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.
“No, I don’t, but she drifted in and out of consciousness when I first picked her up, and one time she tried to push me out of the way. She said she had to find Ben Falcon. That’s when I realized she didn’t remember everything because she didn’t recognize me. The next time she regained consciousness, she didn’t remember that much.”
“Damn. If she knew your name, he must have sent her. Call him and get him to pick her up.” Kyle slanted his head, curiosity back in his eyes. “Unless you want to keep her around for a while.”
“I did call him while you were checking her over. I couldn’t get through—his answering machine took my message—so I called one of his men and left a message. Tomorrow I should get a response.”
Kyle shook his head. “Sorry if you’re going another nine rounds with him. I’d think by now he would realize you have your own life.”
“My father can see things only one way,” Ben answered flatly. “Until I hear from him or her memory returns, I’ll stay with her.”
He received another curious look from Kyle. “You’ve had sprains before, so you know what to do—ice tonight and tomorrow. Then have her soak her foot in hot water a couple of times a day. Four or five days and her foot should be okay. Still have crutches?”
“Yeah. Will it be worse for her to tell her what I suspect?”
“No, it won’t. Go ahead. We’ll check on her through the night. If nothing changes, we’ll release her early in the morning.”
“Okay. Thanks, Kyle, for coming out here in this storm.”
“Glad to do it. You’ll get a bill,” he added with a grin. “She’s in room 520 if you want to go see her.”
When he entered the silent room that had a small light burning in the adjoining bathroom, he closed the door quietly behind him and moved to the bed.
“Ben?” she asked, turning toward him.
His heart seemed to lurch and stop and then start beating again. She was propped against the pillows, the head of the bed cranked up so she was almost upright. Her flame-colored hair spilled over the pillow and her shoulders. In the white hospital gown she looked more defenseless than before. Her foot was elevated, a lump beneath the sheet.
Jennifer turned, her pulse jumping as Ben Falcon’s broad shoulders were a dark silhouette in the wide doorway. This stranger was a lifeline to her. The doctors had been reassuring, and she knew she was fortunate to be alive, from what Ben had said about the wreck, but when she tried to think about the past and nothing came to mind, a cold terror gripped her. She watched the tall man who was little more than a stranger, yet now so important to her. He crossed the room, and she couldn’t resist the urge to reach out for his hand.
His strong warm grip was reassuring as his fingers curled around hers, and she covered his hand with her free hand while he leaned one hip against the bed. “Thank you for staying,” she said, running her fingers over his large knuckles and reluctantly releasing his hand.
“I’m here and I’ll stay with you,” he said casually, tossing his coat on the back of the chair and pulling the chair close beside the bed.
“I know I’m interfering in your life.”
“It’s the middle of the night in a snowstorm, so there’s not a lot I could be doing if I were home,” he said lightly as he sat down beside her. He touched her hair.
“I feel like there’s something I’m supposed to be doing, but I can’t recall what it is. Something urgent.”
“It’ll come to you.”
“Ben, I know your name, but I don’t know mine.”
“You will. From what Kyle told me, you should wake up in the morning and have your memory back.”
“They
