Only as he ate the generous plate of mashed potatoes and gravy and thick slices of beef, raised right on the ranch, the food failed to satisfy the emptiness around his heart that he seldom acknowledged...that he’d carried since he’d walked away from his brothers and left them to deal with a situation that mirrored the one he’d found Red in. Sure he’d done it for the right reason, figuring the beatings would stop if he left.
But how could he be certain they did? Would he ever see his brothers again? Or his mother? Love had made her blind to the faults of the man she’d married a few years ago as a widow. The man who became Ward’s cruel stepfather. Again he reminded himself, love made a person unable to see the facts.
He pushed the plate away and bolted from the table.
* * *
Red sat upright so fast her head spun and pain shot clear through her brain. “Oww.” She pressed her palms to her head. “That hurts.”
“Take it easy.” Cool hands touched hers. “You’re safe here.”
Safe? Was it possible? “Where am I?” She glanced around the unfamiliar room. She lay on a bed with a small table across her knees. This certainly wasn’t a room she’d been in before. Dark green drapes hung at the sides of a window. Brilliant sunlight spilled into the room. The bed was covered in a bright quilt full of swirls of color. She stole a glance at the woman before her. “Who are you?” The woman had plain brown hair. Oh, how Red wished her hair was brown and straight and would stay in a tidy bun. The woman smiling at her had the gentlest eyes she’d seen anywhere since Mother died. Red’s throat clamped at a rush of regrets sweeping over her.
“I’m Linette Gardiner. You are safe in my home. I’m guessing you have your memory back. Perhaps you can tell me a bit about yourself now.” She removed the bed tray on which rested a half-full cup of tea. Red had no recollection of having drunk the top half but it seemed she must have.
“My memory back? How long have I been here?”
“Two days.”
Two days. Her blood burned through her veins with desperate urgency. She tried to swing her feet to the floor and fell back as pain ripped through her head and leg.
Linette caught her hand. “Sit back and relax. You’re injured.”
“Am I alone?” She moved her head gingerly, ignoring the pain, as she checked out every corner of the room.
“You are alone and safe. I know your first name is Red, though I suspect it is a nickname. Can you tell me your full name?”
“It’s—” She paused.
“Don’t push it if you can’t remember. I’m sure your memory will return in good time.”
Her memories were intact. She was Grace Eileen Henderson, eighteen years of age. But her name no longer fit. “Red Henderson.” She had a little sister, Belle, who was eight years old. Her lungs spasmed. She couldn’t get her breath.
“No need to be afraid.” Linette rubbed her shoulder and soothed her with a sweet voice. But the panic would not ease.
“I have to get back.” Without Red’s protection, what would be happening to Belle?
Linette sat back and studied her. “But why? Ward told us how that man treated you.”
She couldn’t tell the real reason. They wouldn’t understand. No one would. Her situation would only make good people like Linette view her with even more alarm than she did now. “Where’s my dress?”
“You’re welcome to keep the one you’re wearing.”
Red rubbed the soft cotton of the muted brown dress. No doubt the color would also mute her coloring, stealing some of the red from her hair, turning her complexion muddy. More than enough reason to wish for many more dresses the same. But she could just imagine how Thorton Winch would react to her wearing an outfit that covered her from neck to wrists to ankles. A great lump of longing swelled within her. If only she could own a dozen such dresses. “I would like my own gown back, if you please.”
Linette hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I shall get it.” She slipped from the room.
As soon as she was gone, Red pushed carefully to her feet and waited for the dizziness to pass. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she made her way to the window. The scene spun crazily. But she squinted to focus. She was in the second story of a house that sat on a hill overlooking a large collection of other buildings. This must be the ranch that cowboy had talked about. She eyed the barn and the horses corralled outside it. A cowboy with a rolling gait moved among the horses. She studied him. Was it the man who had kidnapped her? She’d tried to escape his clutches on the way here. Would he likewise try to prevent her from leaving?
She could not allow it.
“Here it is.” Linette stepped into the room. “Oh, you’re up. You shouldn’t be.”
Red cautiously turned to face her. The red satin dress hung over her arm. “I’m fine.”
“I regret I couldn’t get all the stain out.” She showed the dress with a faded brown stain on one side.
“Thank you.” She clutched the dress to her as if it were something treasured. But it wasn’t that she cared about the dress. Only about not provoking Thorton. Bile rose in her throat. Oh, how she regretted her gullibility. She’d trusted the man when he said he was a preacher and could take her and Belle to his sister. They’d be safe, he promised.
He’d lied. She’d never again trust a man.
She shuddered. Two days. What had happened to Belle? She must leave.
“I heard she was feeling better.”
A man’s voice pulled her attention to the doorway and her cowboy rescuer. He’d given his name as Ward Walker. He was solid-looking with a thick thatch of black hair.
“You.” She managed not to spit the word out.
He grinned. “Yup. Me. Glad to see you have your memory back.”
For two heartbeats she wished she didn’t, but the alternative was unthinkable. “Don’t expect me to thank you.”
He chuckled. “Yup. I see you’re back to normal. You were mellow when you didn’t remember your name.” He shot a triumphant look toward Linette. “I told you she was feisty.”
Feisty? He had no idea how quickly she’d learned to keep her opinions and objections to herself. She had to return to Thorton. There was no alternative. She would demand transportation back this moment, but the room suddenly tipped to the right and black folded inward from the corners.
Ward rushed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. “You’re too weak to be up.” He carried her to the bed and eased her down on the pillows.
For some reason her fingers refused to release him. She clutched his shoulders, finding strength and steadiness there. That was all it was, she reassured herself. Holding on to him kept the world from spinning.
“You’re safe here. No one will
