She focused her vision and concentrated on his features. Nothing was making sense. He looked like a human, a darn nice one, but her callers had told her aliens could change form at will.
He placed her helmet in her lap. Only a light, here and there, was blinking now. Forty-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents down the drain when she didn’t have money to spare. But if she disappeared into outer space to be experimented on, money would be the least of her worries.
She didn't have the energy to fight him when he lifted her legs, put them in the spaceship and dug around until he found the straps to tie her down. He reached across her, belted her in and shut the door. Now she was trapped. Running her fingers over the door, she tried to find the handle. Before she could make her move, she felt the spaceship lifting off.
She’d listened countless times as her callers talked about their experiences with this exact thing. In her mind, she’d discounted them as being delusional.
Now she remembered what Louise, a regular caller, had said. “They put me in a huge, bright capsule. The takeoff was smooth as glass, and silent as a forest after a snowstorm.”
Her spaceship jerked. With each move, her head spun and noise burrowed into her skull with all the finesse of a jackhammer. There was no beautiful machine here, just a piece of junk, kind of like her Geo.
Just her luck she’d get this puny, puddle jumper of a spaceship. They probably didn’t even serve inter-flight drinks, and she could use a shot of bourbon. As the vehicle jerked again, she grabbed the edge of the seat. Make that two.
Many nights on her show, she’d pretended to believe the people who called in when they’d described this very thing. Some said their ship lifted straight up and some said it flew away, skimming the treetops.
As these thoughts raced through her mind, the spaceship rocked back and forth several times then bounced off the earth.
She didn’t want to leave the earth. Heck, she didn’t want to leave Tullyville, Colorado or KTLY. Who would talk to her callers about aliens if she were abducted? Who would reassure them?
The only thing she could think to do now was pray, fighting aliens with God’s help. Some of her callers insisted it was the way to go. She hadn’t been inside a church since her dad’s funeral, but at this point she needed all the help she could get.
Now if she could remember a prayer.
Bowing her head and closing her eyes the way she’d learned as a child, she folded her trembling hands over the helmet perched in her lap. “Now I lay me down to sleep,” she whispered. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake . . . .”
Rose’s eyes popped open. She didn’t want to die. Maybe this prayer thing wasn’t the best way after all. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her callers when they talked about Biblical help?
They hadn't traveled very far—or maybe it just seemed that way to her because they were going at the speed of light—when they slowed. Just the slight change of speed made her head whirl, and she put her hands over her eyes, trying to stop the movement.
A bright white light appeared all around them. The landing was jerky, and she was soon surrounded by beings just like her callers had described. Their skin glowed white, and the spaceship was bathed in light. When they reached for her, Rose shrank away, but the pounding in her head prevented more than a token gesture of resistance.
When they lifted her out and strapped her to a table, fear caused her breathing to hitch. This was it. All the horrible things she'd scoffed at were happening to her. The world surrounding her drifted away, and like the old black and white TV mysteries she loved, faded to black.
-#-
Rose’s mind felt like it was coated with road tar, her thought processes mired in sludge. When she awoke, the warm sticky stuff had flowed into every nook and cranny of her brain. The only thing she was sure of was she’d never seen this room before. The last thing she remembered was climbing into her car to escape the wind.
This was obviously a hospital room, and she didn’t do hospitals.
A careful inventory of her body revealed no broken bones or bleeding wounds. A pounding headache and persistent flares of dizziness when she moved too fast were her only symptoms, and she could deal with that.
In order to make her escape from wherever she was, she had to find her clothes. When she sat up, the room did a waltz around the bed, bowing at each corner. Slumping back onto the mattress, she closed her eyes and took deep breaths until everything stopped moving.
Where was she and what was she doing here?
Just as she was going to give sitting up another try, a young man entered the room. He introduced himself as Dr. Mosley, her attending physician.
This had to be a joke. He didn’t look any older than she was, and she’d just turned twenty-six.
Twenty-six was too young to be a doctor.
Great, the first time in her life she’s seriously hurt, she gets Doogie Howser, M.D. as her primary care provider.
The doctor scanned her chart then looked at her, his weak smile left over from the last patient.
“You have a concussion, Miss Wajnowski. However, your CAT scan came back clear, and the neurological tests we’ve performed are within normal range.”
“How did I get here? I don’t remember this.” Her voice rose as panic skittered beneath her skin.
“Temporary memory loss sometimes accompanies concussions. It’s impossible to tell how long your symptoms might last. In most cases like this, the patient regains their memory rather quickly.”
“Well, that’s reassuring. You’re saying maybe I’ll get my memory back—or maybe not? How long did you go to medical school?” Apparently the bump on the head hadn’t disabled her sarcasm button. “What if I don’t remember? Are you sure you’re a real doctor?” The burn of tears pressed against the back of her eyes.
He gave her a vague smile. “I’ll check on you in the morning. Get some rest.” It was clear he considered his job done.
She should have become a doctor.
“You need lessons on improving your bedside manner,” she said, but he was already gone.
Fortunately, her next visitor was a nurse.
“How are we doing today?” the woman asked as she straightened the sheets. “Headache better?”
Maybe Rose could get some information from this woman. “Is that guy a real doctor? He doesn’t look old enough to be out of high school.”
“He’s a very good doctor. One of the best around,” the nurse replied.
“But he didn’t tell me anything. What happened? How did I get here?”
“Let me look at your chart.” She tapped her fingernail on the metal table as she studied the computer screen. “They brought you in last night. You were in a car wreck.”
“Car wreck?” Her mind struggled to process the information. Nothing made sense. “Where? When? Oh my God, was anyone else hurt?” She was babbling but couldn’t seem to shut off the flow of words.
“No, it was just you. You ran off the road. They admitted you around three fifteen this morning. Your cousin brought you in. He’s gone to get some coffee.” The nurse straightened the pillows then typed her notes into the keyboard. “About your headache, do you need something?”
“Wait. What cousin? I don’t have a cousin.” Would a concussion cause her to forget family?
The nurse gave her a consoling pat. “Your cousin will be back in a little while. Seeing him might trigger your memory.”
Rose was fading fast, but she needed to get out of the hospital. “When can I go home?”
“The doctor’s going to keep you here overnight for observation. If you have someone to help you, you can go home in the morning. Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “You’ll be fine in a few days.” After updating Rose’s information on the large erasable board, she swished out of the room, carrying her tray, her smile still in place.
A glance at the IV in her hand made her skin prickle and her scalp crawl. She considered pulling it o
ut and making her escape. If she was a tough chick, that’s what she’d do, but just the sight of the needle poking into her skin made her stomach clench.
Rose closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at the needle. Her muscles relaxed and that was all it took to slip back to sleep.
Chapter Two
Stretching his arms over his head, Adam tried to force his spine back into alignment. Fitting his six-foot plus frame onto the hard, plastic hospital chair had been almost impossible, and sleep had come in fits and spurts. Riding bucking horses didn’t make him ache like this. Grabbing his black Stetson, he walked into the hall.
At the nursing station, they’d pointed him toward the cafeteria and coffee. He needed a stiff drink, but hospitals didn’t usually include a bar in the dining area. Coffee would have to do for now.
After twenty minutes wandering through the halls, he found the cafeteria tucked in the lower level of Mt. San Rafael Memorial. He downed the first cup of black coffee so fast it scalded his tongue. By the time he’d finished a refill and a day old pastry, he felt marginally better. It was past time to head back to the third floor.
When he reached Rose’s room the lights were out, so he tiptoed inside and found the chair. Just as he started to relax he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. She was awake, and her hysteria from the night before was gone. Good sign.
When he’d arrived at the hospital with her last night, he’d told the nurse he was Rose’s cousin. A quick peek in her purse gave him the necessary information so he didn’t look like a fool or worse, the liar he was. Her driver’s license said she was Rose Wajnowski, and her address was in Tullyville.
This morning, he’d stopped at the nurse’s station. “Can you give me any more information on Rose Wajnowski’s condition?”
“Let me see.” The young nurse pulled up another screen on her computer. “She’s suffering from a concussion. The doctor will be releasing her in a few days.”
“Thank you.” Adam smiled at the nurse then moved down the hall to the elevator. He needed to talk to Rose today and find out what her plans were, and if she held him liable for the accident.
After the phone conversation yesterday afternoon with the lawyer’s office, he hadn’t been able to think or sleep. Sometime after midnight, he’d climbed into his rented Chevy Cavalier and driven around the area for hours trying to decide what to do about his impossible situation.
He’d had a flat on a little used section of road, and he’d considered it just another bit of bad luck in his long string. When he’d found out the spare was also flat, and his cell phone was out of bars, he’d conceded his grandfather had won, and the battle hadn’t even started yet.
The old man was in league with the devil. Hell, he probably owned the devil.
Sitting in his broken down rental, he was trying to decide whether to walk the two and a half miles into town or sleep in the back seat. He’d been cursing the rental car company, when he saw the lights of a car shining in his rear-view mirror.
Finding another car on the road in the middle of the night had been a godsend. He’d climbed out, stood in the center of the road and waved his arms to slow down the driver.
Adam hadn’t meant to scare her. He could hear his grandfather’s voice in his head. You couldn’t do anything right if God took you by the hand and personally showed you the way.
He walked over to the bed, one hand holding his cowboy hat, the other hand scrubbing through the hair at the nape of his neck. “How are you feeling?”
Her eyes didn’t blink, and she didn’t move.
As her silence drew out, he became more uncomfortable and hurried on with his explanation. “I'm Adam Cameron. I was there when you wrecked your car last night, and I brought you into the hospital. I wanted to come by and see how you were doing.”
Her glare lasted such a long time the skin on the back of his neck began to crawl. She finally blinked and gave a slight shiver then eased her head back. Her voice was almost a whisper. “Other than a headache, I don't feel too bad, as long as I don’t move fast.” The tension in her shoulders softened, and she collapsed onto the pillow.
“Do you remember anything?” Adam asked.
“Not much.” She peeked at him from under her lashes then her eyes widened, and she gasped. “But I remember you. You’re one of them.” She pulled the sheet up to her eyes and peered out at him. “No, that can’t be right, because there aren't any of them are there?”
The nurse had told him the diagnosis was a concussion, but this sounded more like full on, raging paranoia.
For the first time Adam really looked at her. There were dark smudges under her coffee brown eyes. Even her olive skin was pale. A large purple lump stood out on her forehead, partly hidden behind her glossy, black bangs.
“Wait, why were you there?” Rose asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. She lowered the sheet an inch.
“My rental car broke down, and I was stranded on the side of the road. I couldn't get any cell reception to call a tow truck. I tried to flag you down to see if I could get a ride.”
Incomprehension faded from her eyes as understanding moved in. “It was just you,” Rose said with a sigh as the events of the night before came rushing back. “I remember now, and it was just you.”
“Yes, I . . .”
Rose blushed as she cut him off with a slight wave of her hand. “You stepped out into the road and waved your arms. You were dressed in black.”
“Yeah, that was me,” he said, his attention drawn to her pretty pink cheeks.
“And?”
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. “I thought you’d see me sooner. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”
“You scared the bejeezus out of me. I don't know when I've ever been so petrified. What an idiot.”
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” Adam took a step back and reminded himself she was hurt. People in pain sometimes said things they didn’t mean. Before he could apologize again, she spoke.
“I'm not calling you an idiot. Although one of the first things we learned in kindergarten was to wear light colors after dark.” She paused for a minute, closed her eyes and massaged her temples with her fingertips.
“I'm calling myself an idiot for believing the crazies I talk to all night. I must have hit my head pretty hard, because when I came to, I thought you were an alien. Wow, every awful thing I've heard on my show came rushing back to me.” She raised her eyes to meet his as she dropped her hands to her lap. “Like I said, what an idiot.”
“What show?” he asked.
“I’m Radio Rose. I host a late night talk show. Most of my programs are on alien abductions.”
“That would explain the panic and screaming when I tried to help you,” Adam said. “You kept saying you wouldn't make a good specimen.”
“I’ve never believed them, you know, my callers. It's always been just a show, and I played along, but this seemed so real and was terrifying. I have a new respect for them now, even if it’s all in their imaginations.”
“You had no doubt I was an alien. I have bruises on my shins, from where you kicked me, to prove it.” He saw a shiver run across her skin before she shifted her eyes to stare at her fingers.
Her eyes followed every movement as she twisted the corner of the sheet. After a moment, she looked up at him. “How’s my car?”
“How was it before the wreck?” he asked.
“It wasn't much. It ran, most of the time, if I was very nice to it and could get it to start.”
“Well, it's pretty much the same then,” he said. “The tree you hit cracked the front panel and bent the bumper into the tire, but I managed to pull it out. It’s got a big dent, but it’s fine to drive for now.”
“Great. My car came out of the wreck better than I did. They won’t let me check out unless I have someone to stay with me.” She rolled her head across the pillow, locking her gaze on him. “Hospitals scare me, and I'm stuck here.”
He didn’t think he’d ev
er seen a more pitiful sight.
“Hey, maybe you can help me.” She started to grin, but a stab of pain erased it.
His whole body stiffened then he turned away from the bed. “I don’t think so. We don't even know each other.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t have to stay with me. Just tell them a little white lie. After all, it's your fault I'm in here.”
He turned back, looked her over then shook his head emphatically. No way was he going to get stuck playing nursemaid.
“I wouldn't have run off the road if you hadn't jumped in front of me,” she continued. “I can't afford to spend an extra minute in this hospital. I don't have any insurance. Besides, this place gives me the creeps.”
She shuddered, and he stifled the desire to wrap his arms around her, reassure her, but he kept his hands to himself. That was someplace he wasn’t going.
“I don't think that’s a very good idea.” Adam needed to put a stop to this right now. He didn't take care of people. He couldn’t take care of himself.
“You’ll do fine, Cousin Adam.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Yes, I heard what the nurse said. Since you’re family, they won’t have any problem releasing me into your custody. Just drop me off. I can take care of myself once I get home.”
“What if you need help, and you’re alone?”
“All I need to do is take my pills and sleep. Come on, you owe me.”
“With a concussion, you need someone to wake you every so often to make sure you’re all right,” he said. “Even I know that.” This woman couldn’t sit up without getting dizzy. There was no way she could function at home, alone.
“I’ll set my alarm. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. I’m very self-sufficient.”
Sitting in the narrow hospital bed, the blanket tangled around her legs, her ponytail twisted off to the side, she didn’t look particularly self-sufficient.
She looked small, weak and frail, but Adam had the feeling she wasn’t as helpless as she appeared. “I'll be gone in a few days. What if something happens?”
Radio Rose (Change of Heart Cowboys Book 1) Page 2