Whirlwind Cowboy

by Debra Cowan

  “I’d still like to know if they’re all right. Besides, I thought you might be tired of talking about me.”

  Emotion flashed through his eyes. He cleared his throat. “It will take them a while to heal, but they’ll be okay. It’s kind of you to ask.”

  The intent way he studied her had her steadying herself with a hand on the counter beside her. “Did you eat supper? We have plenty of ham and potatoes left.”

  “I ate. Thanks. I wanted to talk to you.”

  “I haven’t remembered anything. Well, except for

  geography,” she said with a half laugh, fingering the lace edging her neckline.

  Bram’s gaze shifted to her hand, where it rested near the swell of her breasts. Her skin tingled as if he’d touched her there.

  Dropping her hand, she tangled her fingers in her skirt. Having him so close played havoc with her pulse. “My mother showed me the note I wrote saying I’d left for Abilene. She and my sisters think Cosgrove forced me to do it.”

  Bram scrutinized her face, his bronzed features hardening. “I’m inclined to believe that.”

  “But you don’t think— Do you think that’s what happened?” She really wanted him to say yes.

  “I don’t know.” His voice was even, hard to read.

  He ran his hat through his fingers, easing closer. “I spoke to Annalise when I was in town earlier.”

  At Deborah’s blank look, he explained, “Annalise Fine, Whirlwind’s doctor. She’s engaged to Matt Baldwin. She’s the woman who was held hostage during the shoot-out with Cosgrove I told you about.”

  “Oh,” she said softly, her attention going to the scar on the right side of his face.

  His mouth tightened. “You’ve helped Annalise before in her clinic.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

  “Remember,” he finished. “It doesn’t matter. What I wanted to tell you was that she’s never treated anyone for losing their memory.”

  A sharp ache pierced her chest. “So you’re back to thinking I’m a liar,” she said coolly, turning away.

  “No.” His large hand closed gently around her wrist to stay her. “She’s never treated it, but she’s heard of it.”

  “What did she say? Will my memory come back?”

  “She doesn’t know.”

  “I don’t understand how everything can just be gone.” Her voice thickened. “How I can have nothing in my memory.”

  “The way she explained it to me was to compare it to sleepwalking,” he said quietly. “Annalise said that sleepwalkers often act in ways that are different from their normal behavior and when they wake up, they have no recollection of what they did.”

  “Sleepwalking? But I’ve never done that.”

  He gave her a look.

  She sighed. He was right. How did she know what she’d done? That was something she would ask her family. Her next thought brought mild panic.

  “What if I can’t remember anything because...it didn’t really happen?”

  “Something happened,” Bram said tightly, grazing a thumb carefully against her jaw, careful not to touch her bruise. “You didn’t do this to yourself.”

  She looked up into his eyes, her pulse scrambling at his touch. She was struck by an urge to curl her body into his, to feel those big arms around her. But she didn’t.

  “Do you think my injuries have anything to do with my memory loss?”

  “It’s possible.” His gaze searched her face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. There’s still a twinge or two, but I’m fine.”

  “Annalise said she would find out as much as she could about this and let me know. She’d also like to see you.”

  “As a doctor?”

  For some reason, that made him smile. “Yes, as a doctor. It won’t hurt to let her check you over.”

  “All right.”

  His thumb brushed her chin. “I see you were able to clean up.”

  “You, too.” She smiled, quite aware that he was still touching her. She stood motionless so as not to break the connection.

  “You’re awful pretty.” His gaze moved from the flat plane of her chest bared by her neckline to her mouth. His eyes darkened.

  She remembered that look! And the answering flutter in her stomach. Before she realized it, she had taken a step toward him.

  “Damn.” He shifted closer, too, muttering, “Ought to kiss you and see if you remember that.”

  His voice was so low she barely caught his words, but when she did a wave of heat flushed her body. Nervous now, she moistened her lips with her tongue, and a nearly pained look came over his face.

  For a split second she thought he might kiss her. She wanted him to, because she suddenly, shockingly also recalled the feel of his mouth on hers. She wanted to feel it again.

  His eyes shuttered against her. He dropped his hand and stepped back.

  Telling herself it was silly to be hurt by his withdrawal, Deborah laced her fingers together. In a flash, she recalled what he’d said to her at the cabin that had bothered her earlier. “May I ask you something?”

  “Yes,” he said warily.

  Deborah licked her lips again. “Did your opposition to my going off to teach have anything to do with your ma leaving you?”

  He stiffened. “I thought you didn’t remember anything about me.”

  “You mentioned her at the cabin and it made me wonder.”

  “Why are you asking?” His voice was brusque.

  She frowned. “I was just trying to figure out why you were so against me teaching school.”

  “Not teaching school. Leaving to teach school,” he clarified.

  “My sisters said it was only for two terms.”

  “In Abilene.” His jaw went anvil-hard. “A four-hour ride from my ranch.”

  “So it did have something to do with your mother abandoning you?”

  Features growing dark, he stared at her a long time, then turned to leave. “I’ll be outside. If any of you need to come out, don’t startle me. My gun’s loaded.”

  The door banged shut and soon she heard the thud of his boots on the front porch.

  From the way he’d skedaddled, she knew she was right, but it didn’t really help her. She had learned a bit about herself, but the only thing she had learned about Bram was that the man affected her much more than she liked. Just a look from him could heat her up like a Texas summer.

  Her mind might not remember, but her body did.

  Chapter Six

  He didn’t have the sense God gave a saddle horn. How else to explain the fact that Bram had come this close to kissing Deborah last night?

  The rest of the night had been uneventful, which was a damn good thing. Early this morning Bram had left Amos at the Blue homeplace, then gone to the ranch to sleep and wash up, although he hadn’t done as much sleeping as he’d needed. Thinking about Deborah in the dress she’d worn last night had made him restless.

  Had she worn it because she recalled how he liked the way those little purple flowers made her eyes even more blue? Or because the bodice bared a little more of her velvety skin than usual? He sorely doubted it, because so far she hadn’t remembered a blasted thing about him or what he liked.

  She had remembered geography. Flashes of words from her mother. Bram wasn’t even surprised that her schooling was one of the first things to pop up in her mind. Her vocation had taken priority over him even before she had lost her memory.

  That afternoon, he waited in the front room of Annalise’s clinic with Mrs. Blue while the doctor examined Deborah.

  Her mother sat quietly in a nearby chair and he stared out the window toward the jail, threading his hat through his fingers. With Deborah’s note in the pocket of his denims
, he had thought to show it to Davis Lee while she was with the doctor, but upon ushering her into the clinic, Bram decided he should stay.

  All he could hear from behind the curtain separating the clinic’s examination room and the front room were murmurs, some from Annalise, a few from Deborah.

  “Thank you again, Bram,” Jessamine said.

  He turned to find her smiling at him. “For what?”

  “For getting my daughter home and making sure she’ll stay safe.”

  He shifted uneasily. He deserved no thanks for that, not when his real aim was to set a trap for Cosgrove.

  Her mother continued, “She looked so dazed as we drove into town that I’m glad I insisted the girls stay home. She’s not used to them yet. I think bringing them into town where she also doesn’t remember anyone would’ve just made things more confusing for her.”

  He tended to agree. He was also glad the older woman had accompanied them, because her presence kept him from being completely focused on Deborah. And her sweet scent. Helped him keep up his guard against the woman who had planned to leave him.

  The tap of heels had him looking up to see Annalise pushing back the curtain. He straightened. Had she found other injuries? Had Deborah been violated?

  Bram could hardly make himself think about it. If it turned out Cosgrove had forced himself on her, Bram would do murder. After making the bastard suffer.

  Annalise smiled at him and Mrs. Blue. “Why don’t both of you come in and have a seat? Deborah said she doesn’t mind if I speak in front of y’all.”

  Bram let the older woman precede him. As she stopped to put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder, Bram pulled Annalise aside and asked in a low voice, “Is she okay? You know, everywhere?”

  Annalise touched his arm. “I think so. Let’s go on in so I can tell her mother, too.”

  Nodding, he followed her into the room with two long narrow cots, a small table holding a lamp, and a glass-front cabinet filled with medicine, bandages and other things he couldn’t identify from here.

  Deborah sat on the edge of the nearest cot looking so fragile that his throat tightened. Ever since he’d found her, the possibility of her being raped had slowly worked through his mind like poison, eating away at him.

  Annalise’s green gaze took in all three people in the examination room. “Aside from the bruises on her face and back, Deborah has wounds that could only have come from her defending herself. She fought against whatever happened to her and she would’ve fought if someone had tried to force themselves on her.”

  Deborah winced, looking down at the floor. A flush spread up her neck to her face.

  “If she had been hurt in that way, I would have found signs of that and there were none.”

  The relief was so strong that Bram felt almost dizzy. As Jessamine patted her daughter’s leg, Bram slid a look at Deborah. She barely held his gaze, telling him she was embarrassed that they were discussing this, but he saw relief in her eyes, too.

  Still, the possibility prompted him to ask the doctor something else. “What are the chances that Deborah can’t remember what happened because she saw something awful or because something horrible happened to her?”

  “It’s possible,” his friend said, “but I tend to think if that were the case then she would have only blocked out that event, not her entire life. Still, I just don’t know.”

  There was always the chance Deborah had been willingly intimate with Cosgrove, but Bram didn’t think so. She hadn’t been loose before.

  Even so, he asked, “Would this memory loss make her do things she normally wouldn’t?”

  Deborah looked alarmed, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her.

  “I don’t believe so, but there’s no way to know for sure. After you left yesterday, I wired my friend in Philadelphia, Dr. Hartford, to ask if he’d treated anyone with memory loss. He’s had a few cases and is sending me the details by post. Maybe I’ll have a better idea after I hear from him.”

  “So we aren’t going to know anything else until the letter arrives?” Bram couldn’t keep the aggravation out of his voice.

  “I’m afraid not.” The doctor gestured toward the glass-front cabinet and the three thick books on top. “I looked in my medical texts and couldn’t find anything other than what I told you.”

  “About the sleepwalking?” Deborah asked quietly.

  “Yes. There’s a doctor in France who is researching problems of the mind, but his work isn’t available here. In any case, it’s still preliminary so I don’t know if it would provide any answers.”

  “So there’s no way to know if Deborah will regain her memory?” her mother asked.

  Annalise answered cautiously, “It’s a good sign that she recalled some of her education and had a memory about you.”

  Though Bram didn’t blame his friend for not giving a solid answer, it was frustrating.

  Deborah tilted her head. “So, something or someplace familiar could help me to remember?”

  “It could.”

  Bram tapped his hat against his thigh. He really wanted her to recall the past, but... “She gets headaches when she tries that, Annalise.”

  The doctor nodded, saying to the young woman, “I can give you some powders for relief, although I’m afraid I don’t know how to prevent it from happening.”

  “Would the headaches stop if she didn’t try to remember anything?” Bram asked.

  “Not necessarily.” She looked at Deborah. “It sounds as though you have remembered a few things without trying, just by being at home.”

  “Maybe that would happen somewhere else,” the patient said. “Are there places in town where I go often?”

  “Haskell’s,” Bram said. At her confused look, he explained, “The general store.”

  “And your brother’s house,” Mrs. Blue added.

  Noting the concern in Annalise’s green eyes, Bram frowned. “What is it?”

  “Like I said, there just isn’t much information about this—”

  “But?” He wished she would just spit it out.

  She gave him a look before saying to Deborah, “There’s a chance that trying to remember could make you more confused. I just don’t know. It’s very frustrating that I don’t know yet how to help you.”

  Deborah’s gaze went to Bram. “I want to try to recall whatever I can.”

  Why was she looking at him? It wasn’t as if he could stop her. Still, he wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Annalise’s hesitation made him reluctant for Deborah to attempt something that might do more harm than good.

  The patient slid her feet to the floor and stood. “Let’s go to the store and see if it helps.”

  Mrs. Blue and Bram both looked at Annalise. The doctor considered for a moment. “If it becomes overwhelming or you start to panic or hurt, don’t force it.”

  Deborah nodded.

  The doctor’s eyes were still troubled. “Maybe...only one of you should go with her. You never know how many people will be in Haskell’s at a given time and it could be too much.”

  “I can’t believe I have to be careful about going into a store,” Deborah muttered.

  She sounded so much like her old self that Bram hid a smile.

  “I know it seems a bit much,” Annalise said. “But until I know more, I want to be cautious.”

  As impatient as Bram was for Deborah to recall everything, he saw the wisdom of his friend’s suggestion.

  Mrs. Blue seemed to, as well. “Bram, why don’t you and Deborah go to Haskell’s? I need to check Catherine and Jericho’s garden to make sure nothing needs to be picked.”

  “All right.” He slid a look at Deborah, who nodded. He wasn’t sure if going to the store was a good idea or not, but she seemed determined. Resigned, he glanced at Mrs. Blue. “We can
get the supplies you need if you tell me what they are.”

  “I made a list.” The older woman pulled a piece of paper from her reticule and passed it to him. “Why don’t the two of you come to Jericho’s after you’ve finished at the store?”

  “Maybe I’ll remember something there, too.” Hope brightened Deborah’s face.

  Annalise walked with them to the door. “I’ll get in touch as soon as I learn anything else.”

  Bram nodded.

  “Thank you,” Deborah said.

  Mrs. Blue patted the doctor’s hand. “We appreciate everything.”

  “It wasn’t much,” Annalise said apologetically.

  “It gave me some peace of mind,” Jessamine said.

  Bram, too.

  After bidding them goodbye, Deborah’s mother started across the street toward the Whirlwind Hotel and Catherine’s house up the hill beyond.

  Bram steered Deborah to the right, past Cal Doyle’s law office and to Haskell’s next door. The owner, Charlie, stood outside the store propping the door open.

  With Deborah beside him, Bram stepped up onto the planked boardwalk and under the awning that provided shade from the midday sun. “Afternoon, Charlie.”

  The thin, dark-haired man smiled. “Hello, Bram. Miss Deborah.”

  “Hello,” she said quietly.

  “Nice to see you looking so well.” The store owner, just under six feet tall, smiled.

  “Thank you.”

  She eased closer to Bram, although he didn’t know if she was aware of it. He squashed the urge to take her arm, to touch her at all. He motioned her inside as he said to Charlie, “We came to get some things for Deborah’s ma.”

  “Very good.” The older man followed them inside, then went around the long counter that greeted customers when they first entered.

  Behind the counter a faded blue curtain separated the store from the back office. On the far side stood a table filled with bolts of fabric in every color.

  Bram glanced around the store, scanning a stack of wooden tubs between a barrel of nails and a crate of brooms. He was glad to see they were the only customers.

  Charlie hooked a thumb toward the curtained doorway. “May’s in the back with a customer looking at rug swatches.”