you see our Jane Doe?” Brady questioned before she had time to get comfortable.
The doctor thanked Hank, then pushed a hand through her tumbled hair. “I did,” she said to Brady. “And I’ve become her doctor. For the time being.”
“I’m glad. So what about her condition?” Brady questioned.
His sister frowned at him. “I can’t give you details, Brady. You know that’s invading a patient’s privacy.”
Brady muttered a curse word under his breath. For the past two hours he’d not been able to think about anything except the gray-eyed woman he’d held in his arms. Now his sister wanted to act all professional with him.
“Damn it, Brita, just tell me—is she going to get better? Is she going to be able to remember? Tell us who she is?”
Bridget studied him keenly, and then glanced pointedly at Hank. “What has he done, had a love-at-first-sight experience?”
Hank grinned. “You mean another one?”
Normally Brady liked to joke. In fact, Fiona Donovan had often called him her most lighthearted child, full of happiness and humor. But at the moment he wasn’t feeling anything of the sort. In fact, he was getting a tad angry at both his sister and his partner.
Scowling, Brady muttered to the both of them, “I’m not in the mood for this!”
Seeing he was serious, Bridget relented. “Okay, brother, I’ll be straightforward. Your Jane Doe will get better. The good news is that physically she’s fine. She wasn’t raped, and aside from some bruising on her arms and legs she isn’t seriously injured. As for her memory, how long that might take is a question I can’t answer.”
“Are you kiddin’ me?”
Reaching across the table, she patted the back of his hand. “No. Medicine is not always an exact science. And head injuries are sometimes tricky. She might remember everything in the next few minutes, years from now, something in-between, or never.”
The picture of awful uncertainty his sister was painting hit Brady like a fist to his mouth. No matter the circumstances that caused the injury, the woman didn’t deserve this.
“Isn’t there something you can do to make her remember? Give her some sort of drug?”
“Trust me, Brady. If she doesn’t improve quickly, I’ll be calling in a specialist. But since she’s a ward of the county, cost has to be considered—there’s just so much the hospital will allow. And quit staring at me like you expect me to perform some sort of miracle. I’m just a doctor.”
Hank suddenly interjected, “Look, Brady, it might be that we find her ID when we return to the scene in the morning. Who knows, we might even find an abandoned vehicle in the area.”
Brady wished they didn’t have to wait until daylight to return to the scene. He wanted answers now. But the department’s manpower was already stretched across the enormous county. To bring in searchlights would be costly, time-consuming and perhaps even worthless in the long run.
“Yeah,” Brady agreed. “Let’s hope.”
Bridget suddenly squeezed his fingers and he glanced back at his sister.
“I almost forgot—she’s asking for you.”
Brady’s mouth fell open. “Me?”
Bridget’s smile was wry. “Yes, you. She wants to see you. I expect the meds we’ve given her will be putting her to sleep soon, so you’d better get going.”
Gray Eyes wanted to see him? The news didn’t just stun Brady, it pleased him in the goofiest sort of way and he hurriedly scraped back his chair.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Hank.” Rising to his feet, he pulled out his wallet and tossed several bills at Hank. “Here. Buy Bridget a piece of pie. She looks hungry.”
He headed toward the plate glass door leading out of the coffee shop when suddenly his sister’s voice called out to him.
“Brady, where are you going?”
Frowning with frustration, he glanced over his shoulder. “Where do you think I’m going?” he asked impatiently.
With a shake of her head, she looked drolly over to Hank, then back to her brother. “I don’t know. There are nearly five hundred rooms in this hospital. Don’t you think you need the number to find her?”
If Brady didn’t feel like an idiot before, he certainly did now and he was glad he was standing a few feet away from the table. Otherwise Hank could easily see the red on his face.
“All right,” he conceded. “I wasn’t thinking. What’s the number?”
“Two-twelve. And Brady, be easy,” she warned.
A lazy smile crossed Brady’s face. “Don’t worry, sis. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s handling women. Especially damsels in distress.”
When a knock sounded on the door, she didn’t bother to open her eyes. For the past thirty minutes the nurses had been coming and going from the hospital room like ants on a picnic blanket. She expected the footsteps she heard approaching her bed belonged to yet another nurse who was there to take her blood pressure for the umpteenth time.
“Excuse me, miss. It’s Deputy Donovan. Do you feel like talking?”
The sound of his voice set her heart to pounding and her eyes popped open to see him standing near the head of the bed. His gray hat was in his hand and beneath the dim lighting she could see rusty-gold hair waving thickly about his head, tanned features molded in a sober expression.
He was a young man, she decided. Somewhere in his late twenties or early thirties. Handsome was not the word to come to her mind as she studied him more closely. But rugged and sexy certainly did. Sharp cheekbones, a thrusting chin, hazel green eyes and a full lower lip merged together to form one strong face.
Suddenly feeling as weak as a puny kitten, she cleared her throat and tried to speak in a normal voice. Instead, it came out raspy. “Thank you for coming, Deputy Donovan.”
A faint smile tilted the corner of his lips and her gaze was drawn to his mouth and the dimple marking his left cheek.
“My pleasure,” he said. “How are you feeling?”
That voice. It was her first memory of anything and she clung to it like a child with a blanket. “Lousy. But better.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Hopefully, you’ll be right as rain real soon.”
She swallowed as hopeless emotions thickened her throat. “Doctor Donovan was very positive about that. She … told me that she’s your sister.”
His smile deepened. “That’s right. We’re from a big family. We all live together in a big ranch house.”
Family. Parents. Siblings. Did she have any? And if she did, where were they? Nearby? Far away? Maybe she had no one. Oh, God, let her remember, she prayed.
