heart pound. “No. I love coffee. I was talking about the flower.”
“Oh. That.” He picked up the branch of blossoms and handed it to her. “I don’t know what it is. I broke it off one of the bushes in Grandma’s flower garden. Because it was pretty. And I thought you might like it.”
Lass lifted the flowers to her nose, while an awkward feeling suddenly assaulted her. She didn’t know why having Brady see her in bed was bothering her. It wasn’t like it was the first time. But that had been a narrow hospital bed and she’d been garbed in a thick, unflattering cotton gown. Now she was in an opulent bed wearing a piece of red silk that revealed every curve of her body. And he was giving her flowers as though she was special.
Keeping her eyes carefully on the red, trumpet-shaped blooms, she said, “I do like it. Very much. But Kate’s going to get you for meddling with her flowers.”
He chuckled. “She’ll forgive me. Especially if I tell her I did it for you. She likes you. I can tell. And Grandma doesn’t just take to any and everyone.”
Turning away from her, he poured the cup full of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
It felt ridiculous having this macho man of a lawman standing beside her bed, serving her as though she was a princess. Yet it also made her feel cared about and very special. Was that his motive? she wondered. Or was he this way with all the females who visited the Diamond D?
“Just a little cream, please. But I can do it,” she insisted. “You don’t need to do … all of this for me.”
“Why not? I’m here and I’m capable.”
Thrusting her disheveled hair from her face, she placed the flower on her lap and took the cup he offered. While she sipped, he pulled the chair away from the vanity, positioned it next to the bed and took a seat. This morning he was dressed in faded jeans and a black, short-sleeved polo shirt and though his hair was combed neatly back from his face, she could see a hint of rusty whiskers shadowing his chin and jaw. That and the faint lines beneath his eyes were the only signs that he’d had a late night.
“Tell me, Brady, do you do this for all house guests that come to the Diamond D?” she asked as she peered demurely at him over the rim of her cup.
He grinned. “Only the ones I want to leave a lasting impression on,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “You have a concussion. You need to be taking it easy.”
Unconsciously, her fingertips fluttered to the stitched wound hidden by her hair. “Bridget says I can move around. As long as I don’t rush or exert myself. And I’m feeling much stronger today.”
“That’s good. Real good.”
He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles as though he was planning to stay there for a while. Apparently it didn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable to visit a woman’s bedroom. But then a man who looked like him had probably had plenty of practice at it, she thought.
“We … were all worried about you last night,” she murmured. “I’m glad to see you made it safely back home.”
He simply looked at her, his eyes warm and appreciative. “It was nothing to get worked up about. Just a little scuffle. A man with a gun got upset and went a little off the beam. That’s all. He’s safe behind bars now. And we’re all just fine.”
The first few hours after she’d gone to bed, she’d imagined him in all sorts of dangerous situations and she’d been desperately afraid for his safety. Now, she felt foolish for letting her imagination and her feelings get so out of hand. “Does that sort of thing happen often?” she asked.
“No. But neither does finding a pretty girl with amnesia,” he answered, a faint grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “The stars must have gone off-kilter this past week. The department’s been extra busy.”
“Well, I wish the stars would realign themselves,” she did her best to joke. “Maybe then I’d get my memory back.”
“Still nothing?”
Staring down at her cooling coffee, she said dismally, “No. Apparently nothing up there in my head is regenerating.”
“If Brita says it will, then it will. You just need time,” he said with encouragement. Pulling his legs toward him, he leaned forward and rested his forearms across his thighs. “Later this morning Hank and I are going to the track and plaster your picture throughout the clubhouse and betting area. It could be that some of the employees will remember seeing you there last Sunday.”
Brady was being so kind and positive the least she could do was be hopeful and optimistic, too. But that was rather difficult to do when every path her mind took, it ran into a black wall.
“But how will that help, Brady? More than likely I didn’t give my name to anyone.”
“Probably not. But just having someone witness seeing you in a certain place is a big start. If we can confirm that you were at the track that will give us a starting place. From there we can try to trace your steps forward and backward.”
She gave him the bravest smile she could muster. “Okay. I trust you.”
He chuckled. “Really? Then you’re the first woman who ever has.”
Was he saying she was gullible where he was concerned? It didn’t matter. As far as her missing person case was concerned, she had to trust him. As a man, it shouldn’t matter. Even if he wasn’t involved with one special woman, she was in no position to get her feelings tangled up with him. With her past a blank, her future could be nothing but uncertain.
Not really knowing what to reply to his sardonic remark, she sipped her coffee and waited for him to take the conversation elsewhere.
“So what are you going to do today? Sit in a stuffed armchair and read a book?”
Wondering if he was serious, she glanced at him. “I have amnesia, not paralysis.”
A dimple came and went in his cheek. “Well, if reading sounds too boring you can get Grandma to tell you stories about when she and Grandpa first came here. She has some real humdingers.”
“I’m sure. She’s quite a colorful woman. But I already have something planned. Later this morning Dallas is taking me over to her stables to have a look around.”
He groaned. “Listen, Lass, if you let her, Dallas will drive you crazy talking about all her kids and horses and work. If you get tired, don’t be afraid to tell her to hush and bring you home.”
Home. Funny how he said it that way, she thought. As though this place was her home, too. The idea touched her and yet at the same time it made her feel a bit weepy. Somewhere there had to be walls and floors and rooms that had made up her home. Had anyone lived in it with her? Had she been loved? The way the Donovans loved each other?
“I’m sure Dallas and I will get on just fine,” she told him. “I like her very much.”
“Well, as much as I like sitting here with you and seeing you in that pretty red thing you’re wearing, I’ve got to head to work.” He rose to his feet, but instead of heading toward the door, he picked up the thermos and refilled the china cup she was balancing on her knee.
His
