by Sara Orwig
“Yes,” she answered.
He released her slowly and looked down into her seductive brown eyes. “You’re safe. I promise.” Her full lips were like an invitation. “Come sit down.”
When she nodded, he led her to a nearby tree, so that she could lean against it while he kept watch—even though he didn’t expect her assailant to return.
Josh glanced around and realized he didn’t have his medical supplies. “Look, I’ll have to go back to get my first aid kit. Will you stay here and wait for me?”
She nodded. “I’ll stay,” she said quietly.
Wondering whether she would or not, Josh dashed back to where he had left her earlier. He was close enough to the burning wreck to see all the money lying on the ground. He hurried over to pick up a bill—for a hundred dollars, he noted. He picked up another bill—for the same amount.
He glanced in her direction and saw she was sitting and quietly waiting for him this time. He picked up a few more hundreds, gathering them within seconds. He was getting a bad feeling about this, along with eleven one-thousand dollar bills. More bills were scattered all around the wreck. He was certain a lot had to have burned in the blast. She’d been carrying an enormous amount of cash. Stuffing the bills into his pocket, he retrieved the first aid kit and went to help her.
Once there, he knelt beside her. Trying to concentrate, he drew out a gauze pad, ripped the package open and placed the gauze against her head wound. “You’re cut,” he said. “But the ambulance will be here soon.”
“Where am I?”
“On my ranch,” he answered as he worked to stop the bleeding from her temple. “You’re lucky to be alive. I’m Josh Kellogg.”
She was silent, and he gazed into her eyes to see her staring blankly back at him. He wondered who had tried to run her off the road and why. With her looks, it could have been a jealous husband or lover, but with so much cash, she must be involved in something worse. Glancing at her slender fingers, he noticed she didn’t wear a ring on her well-manicured hands with bloodred nails.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“This is Piedras County near Stallion Pass, Texas,” he replied, glancing at her long legs and then into her thickly lashed eyes again.
“Stallion Pass, Texas?” she repeated, sounding confused. Josh could see uncertainty in her eyes. “My head…”
“Hold this pad against the cut on your temple, and I’ll bandage your head.”
“You’re a doctor?”
“No, I saw you go off the road,” he said, meeting the same blank, puzzled expression. “Someone ran you off the road,” he explained quietly.
“Someone ran my car off the highway?” she repeated in a questioning tone. Josh knew without doubt that she was in shock.
“What’s your name?” he asked her. She frowned, staring back at him.
“My name?” She rubbed her temple. “My head hurts.”
“Look, just sit still. Help is on the way.” As he started to dab antiseptic on her cut, he looked closer at her hair.
“You’re wearing a wig,” he said in surprise.
Once again those brown eyes widened, and her hands flew up to her head. She frowned, groaning slightly as she peeled away the wig and studied it. As she did so, long, golden tendrils of her own hair cascaded over her shoulders. He stared at her, once again mesmerized by her beauty.
A beauty, cash and a would-be killer. The three added up to disaster. Josh wanted the ambulance and the sheriff to arrive so he could turn her over to them. She was trouble from her blond hair to her toes.
Trying to ignore his throbbing arm, he turned his attention back to the problem at hand. He wound gauze around her head carefully.
“You have a ranch?” she asked.
“Yep. I’m a cattleman. Where were you headed?”
She frowned again and rubbed her head.
“Give me your hands,” he ordered in a no-nonsense voice, and she held them out. He cleaned the cuts on her palms, too aware of her soft skin and slender fingers. Her only jewelry was a plain watch with a leather strap, yet he recognized the expensive brand.
He worked over her swiftly, cleaning and disinfecting the cuts on her right hand and then her left, bandaging the deepest ones. As he worked, he glanced often toward the road, even though he didn’t think the other driver would return.
“You must not have any broken bones.”
“My head and my leg hurt,” she said quietly. Josh gazed over his shoulder through the trees at the still-smoldering wreckage, marveling that she had survived at all, much less with as little damage as she appeared to have.
She had a cut on her throat and he wiped away blood. His face was only inches from hers, and when she met his eyes, he couldn’t breathe or move. He was trapped for a long moment, a tingling current rippling along his nerves. Her golden hair was a sharp contrast to her dark eyes, irresistible eyes that held both mystery and invitation.
“So what’s your first name?” He tried again.
“I don’t know. I can’t think….”
Josh noticed that her pupils were uneven, one larger than the other, and he suspected she might have a concussion.
When she winced, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m trying to avoid hurting you.” Now, on top of tons of cash and the fact that someone had just tried to kill her, she couldn’t or wouldn’t give him her name. Plus she wore a wig, a disguise…. Josh’s unhappy suspicions about her grew with every discovery, yet until the paramedics arrived, he felt a sense of responsibility for her care.
Even with the cuts and his crude bandages, he found it hard to keep from staring at her, she was so beautiful. Her skin, where it wasn’t injured, was silky smooth. Her large eyes made his pulse jump whenever she glanced at him. Her rosy mouth was full and well shaped.
“I’m beginning to hurt all over and my head is pounding. My leg hurts.”
“Let me move this blanket and take a look,” he said, frowning. Her jeans were ripped and she had a jagged gash high on the inside of her thigh. “I’m going to cut your jeans and put disinfectant on that cut,” he added. “You’ll feel this one.”
“All right,” she said. “You told me your name. I’ve forgotten—”
“It’s Josh. Josh Kellogg.” He whipped out his knife and began cutting the blood-soaked blue denim, too aware of his fingers against her warm thigh. He glanced at her and saw she had leaned her head against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes.
“Lady,” he said, shaking her gently, and she opened her eyes to look at him. “You might have a concussion. I think you should stay awake until the medics arrive. All right?”
“I just wanted to close my eyes.”
“Try to stay awake for a while.” He looked into her eyes and recognized the same confused, blank stare. “Do you know where you were headed?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, and frowned. “I can’t think….”
Her leg, too, was silky smooth, and he was conscious of each brush of his fingers against her. The gash ran along the inside of her thigh, starting above her knee and continuing on for about six inches. “I can cut away your jeans, disinfect your wound and bandage it, which should stop the bleeding, but the gash runs high on your leg.”
“Go ahead and do whatever you need to,” she answered vaguely, and he wondered whether anything he was saying was registering with her.
It registered with him. He would have to get up close and personal. Josh drew a deep breath and tried to keep his attention strictly on the job, yet it was impossible to avoid being aware of her firm thigh, impossible to keep from noticing her fancy, lacy pink panties. Despite the cool February weather he was sweating.
He heard her gasp in pain. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to avoid hurting you,” he said. In seconds he had her leg bandaged, and let out a sigh of relief.
He shed his denim jacket, which had grown even more soaked with blood while he worked over her injuries.
“You’re hurt,” she observed in a sl
eepy voice.
“I don’t think it’s bad,” he said, peeling away his bloody bandanna. The bullet had gone through without hitting bone or lodging in his muscle. He poured antiseptic on the wound and gasped as it burned sharply. Then he pulled out his handkerchief to wrap it around his arm.
“I can help you,” she said, reaching out to tie the handkerchief for him. He met her gaze, and in spite of the throbbing pain in his arm, he was intensely aware of her. She looked down at the handkerchief. “You’re hurt worse than I am.”
“No, I’m not,” he replied. “Thanks.” Gritting his teeth, he pulled his jacket on again. “I’m going up on the road to watch for the ambulance,” he said, standing.
Her hand shot out and closed around his wrist, and the moment she touched him, it was as if he had been given an electrical shock. Her touch sent tingles through his entire body.
“Don’t leave me, please!” Panic swam in her eyes, and he wanted to put his arms around her and hold her. Josh knew that protective feeling was ridiculous. She was a stranger. But her grip on his wrist was like iron, and the lady could be mule-stubborn when she wanted to be.
“I’m not going far.”
She shivered. “Please.”
“Look, I’ll be right up there at the top of that incline. I want to make sure they can find us down here. I’d like to tie some gauze to a tree so they’ll know where we are. Then I’ll come right back.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“I can’t go if you don’t turn me loose.” Not without hurting you, he thought. Stubborn, stubborn. Was she accustomed to getting her way about everything? He looked at her face and decided she might be. He wiggled his hand to free it. “I promise I’ll be back.”
She released his wrist, and he left, scrambling up to the edge of the road. Yanking the cellular phone from his pocket, Josh punched in the numbers, telling the dispatcher to pass on the word about the gauze marker. Then he tied a long strip of it to a low-hanging branch of an oak on the roadside.
When he returned to the woman, she was watching him intently.
“See? I promised I’d be back and I am. I keep my promises,” he said.
She nodded solemnly.
“Do you know who was after you?”
“After me?” she asked, frowning. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Another car was right behind you. Do you remember?”
“No,” she said, looking at him with round eyes.
“Do you remember your name yet?”
When she shook her head, Josh glanced over his shoulder at the burning wreckage. Only a few small flames and wisps of black smoke rose from it now. “I’m going to look for any identification that might have survived the explosion. A lot of your clothes flew into the air. I’ll be right back.”
As he walked around the burning car, he picked up many more hundred-dollar bills, but he finally gave up hope of finding a purse or identification. He went back to hand her the money.
She looked at the stack of bills in her hands. “This means nothing to me.”
“Most people don’t carry cash like that.”
Her eyes flew wide. “So what are you trying to say?”
“Tell me your name,” he ordered forcefully.
She inhaled and frowned and rubbed her brow, looking away from him. “I can’t remember—”
He grabbed her shoulders and yanked her around to face him. “Think. Something should come to you.”
“I don’t know,” she said, looking even more worried.
Nodding, Josh released her, finally deciding she really didn’t remember her identity.
At the whine of a siren in the distance, he stood, tucking her money beneath the blanket. “Here they come. I’ll go—”
“Please, stay with me,” she said, once again catching his wrist in a tight grip.
He looked at her white-knuckled fingers closed around his wrist. At her touch, his skin tingled and a protective urge welled up in him.
“I’ll be here with you,” he said in a gentle voice, smoothing her hair from her face. “I’ll come right back. I told you, I keep my promises.”
“I feel alone, except for you,” she said, shivering and releasing his wrist.
Josh didn’t want her relying on him. He wanted to hand her over to the professionals and tell her goodbye. He tucked the blanket closer around her. “Help is coming right now. The medics will take you to a hospital. Now I need to go up to the road and lead them down here.”
She released her grip on his wrist, and he gave her shoulder a light squeeze before he left her. As he climbed out of the ravine, he glanced back to find her leaning around the tree, watching him solemnly. Turning, he went on to the road where he waited. In seconds the ambulance whipped around the curve into sight and slowed, cutting the siren, but leaving lights flashing.
The first medic that emerged was tall, brown-haired and freckled. He thrust out his hand. “Ty Whitman,” he said.
Chapter 2
“J osh Kellogg,” Josh said, shaking the paramedic’s hand. “She’s down there,” he added, pointing. “She’s cut badly and doesn’t remember anything before the wreck. I had to get her out of the car before it exploded.”
“Okay, we’ll take it from here. Looks like you got hurt, too.”
“It’s not too bad. Gunshot,” Josh said tersely. “Take care of her first.”
“We can take care of both of you,” the man said. “You look like you need help badly. You’ve bled a lot.”
The Piedras County sheriff’s car was right behind them and a deputy’s car behind it. Josh went ahead, leading the paramedics to the woman.
As they bent over her to talk to her, Sheriff Will Cordoba scrambled down the incline and walked over, standing behind the paramedics. His deputy nodded at Josh as he passed to look at the wrecked car.
Josh gritted his teeth at the pain that enveloped him as a medic treated his wound. During the process, Will Cordoba approached. The sheriff was stocky, black-haired and two years older than Josh, and the two had known each other all their lives. Josh was glad to see him.
“That is one good-looking woman,” the sheriff said. “What happened and what happened to you?”
“I don’t think she remembers anything,” Josh said, shaking hands with Will. “I think she’s got a concussion.”
“Is she from anywhere around here?”
“I’ve never seen her before. I’d remember.”
“Yeah, who wouldn’t?”
“Will, someone tried to kill her. A car ran her off the road.”
“You saw it happen?” the sheriff demanded.
“Yep. I was mending a fence when two cars sped past. When they reached this curve, the other car sideswiped hers, and she went off the road right over there. That wreck was no accident.”
“Looking at her, I’ll bet a jealous husband is involved.”
“There may be more to it than that,” Josh said, thinking about the money she was carrying.
“What about you?”
“I pulled her out of the car,” Josh began, relating everything that had happened.
“Did you shoot at him?”
“Hell no. I’d left my pistol in my pickup. I was so worried about whoever was in the crash that I just grabbed my first aid kit.”
“You went after him without your pistol?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re lucky that shot wasn’t to the right a little. You wouldn’t be here to tell me about it.”
“I’m all right.”
“Sure. But if someone tried to kill her and you were a witness, you may be in as much danger as she is now.”
“I got a license number. It was a black, four-door sedan with dark windows. The man was alone.” Josh watched the sheriff jot down the plate number and call it in along with the description of the car.
“Want something for pain?” the paramedic asked Josh.
He shook his head. “No, thanks.”
“Let them
look at that at the hospital. This is a temporary fix,” the man said.
“Thanks.”
Josh nodded as the paramedic moved away.
“I put her money under the blanket,” Josh said, when Will had ended his phone call. “She’s carrying too much cash. When the car exploded, bills flew everywhere. You’ll find more. I just picked up a few of them.”
Will Cordoba walked over to the paramedics, talking to them a few minutes before bending down to talk to the woman. She reached beneath the blanket and pulled out the fistful of money to hand to him.
Frowning, he counted the cash and whistled, thumbing through hundred-and thousand-dollar bills. Then he returned to Josh.
“I want to check the serial numbers on this money.”
“I don’t think she robbed a bank,” Josh remarked dryly.
“You don’t know,” Will said.
“Look at her. Who would forget her?”
“Maybe, but I’m still going to check the numbers on these bills. This is a hell of a lot of money to be carrying. Nobody carries cash like this. She’s mixed up in something bad right up to her big brown eyes.”
“Someone wants her dead, and they may come back again to finish the job. She could have witnessed a crime, Will. Or she could have committed one.”
“Yep. The ambulance will take her to a San Antonio hospital and they’ll take her in. With this kind of money, she won’t be indigent.”
“She can’t tell them about hospitalization. I’ll call my doctor. He’ll probably be willing to see her.”
“Good. I’ll have to contact the Bexar County sheriff. He may want to put a guard on her room today,” Will said as he pushed back his wide-brimmed hat and rubbed his forehead.
“Until she remembers who she is or you locate her family, Will, she doesn’t have anyone.”
“I’ll get on this right away. If she’s going to a hospital, she shouldn’t leave cash like this around. You want to keep it for her?”
“I’ll never see her again,” Josh replied emphatically. “You keep it at your office.”
“Okay, if she wants me to. I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can find out about her when I get back to the office.”