by Lynde Lakes
The four of them returned to the doctor’s villa by late afternoon. Luke and Alicia disappeared. It was past the child’s naptime. Amber wished she could take a nap, too. She was exhausted and had a terrible headache, but the nurse escorted her straight to the doctor’s office.
After checking the computer for messages, the nurse said, “The doctor will be with you in five minutes. He’s studying the CT scan films sent to him via computer.”
Exactly five minutes later when the doctor strode briskly into the room, Amber was surprised to see Luke following on his heels.
Dr. De La Fuente bowed his head. “Señor Ryan asked to join us for the diagnosis. With your permission, of course.”
Although comforted Luke was there, Amber shrugged, faking indifference. In spite of the cool air gushing from the vents, her palms felt moist.
Dr. De La Fuente looked at Amber with probing eyes. “You have bruises on your back and skull, but your CT scan and EEG look good. As I suspected, the blow to your head was not serious enough to cause amnesia.”
Rigid, Amber leaned forward and dug her fingernails into the leather arms of the chair, waiting for the punch line. Luke closed his hand over hers, giving her the support she desperately needed.
“With no double vision, I’d say your amnesia is an acute non-psychotic syndrome. From what you told me, you seem to be in a fugue state. Probably stress induced.”
Amber swallowed to moisten her dry throat and asked, “Could you please explain that in layman’s terms?”
“It boils down to this, Señorita—there’s a limit to how much stress a person can take at a given time, and when things become too stressful, the mind escapes for self-preservation.”
“Can you help me?”
“Time will be the best healer, but I’ll give you a shot for anxiety and some tranquilizers.”
“Molly had the same symptoms,” Luke offered. “The doc helped her. That’s why I brought you here.”
Amber ignored Luke and asked the doctor, “How long until I get my memory back?”
He shrugged. “Days, weeks. Maybe longer. It may come in flashes with random images. Don’t try to hurry the process—anxiety makes the condition worse.”
Amber closed her eyes. That was just great. Anxiety rode her raw nerves, and she saw no signs of a let up. If distress made her symptoms worse, how would she ever get well?
“It will take more than simply regaining your memory,” De La Fuente said in a grave tone. “Before you can heal completely, you’ll need to deal with what caused the trauma.”
She sighed. She would be glad to, just as soon as she learned exactly what that was. Was she a murderer, or the killer’s next prey?
Chapter Six
To escape the sweltering night, Matt Ryan and his wife Molly had taken a midnight horseback ride to the pool-size open concrete water well for a nude dip. Moonlight danced on the dark water and bathed their bare shoulders with a shimmering glow. Cool water lapped at their heated skin and the rounded sides of the well in a rhythm Matt should have found soothing. But he was too upset. Damn that Amber. She’d brought trouble to the family and the ranch.
Matt rested against the concrete and drew Molly into his arms, bringing her back to his chest. He didn’t want to see her face until he’d said his piece. He tightened his jaw. “I tried, Molly,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the back of his wife’s damp hair. “But you know how I am with family.”
She was quiet for a moment. The air was heavy with the scent of mesquite. Finally, she turned in his arms, stroking his neck. “What did you do?” Her voice was soft. He was so lucky. Molly was always in his corner, even when he slipped back into his controlling ways.
“I sent Amber’s fingerprints off to the FBI lab and faxed a picture I copied from a frame of the video to local authorities for identification.”
Molly went silent again. A coyote howled in the distance.
“Say something.” His voice was husky.
She turned and faced him. “You won’t like it.”
“Tell me anyway.”
She rained kisses on his chest. “Okay, cowboy, you asked for it,” she murmured against his hot skin. “You’re always interfering in Luke’s life. That’s probably why he wants to leave the ranch.”
If Molly knew the whole story, she might have another take on the situation. The trouble was, if he told her everything, she would be as worried as he was. “You’re right,” he growled. “I don’t like to hear that I’m a controlling bastard.” It was a bitter pill to take. Besides, he didn’t want to talk about it now while Molly was setting his chest…his whole body…on fire with her kisses.
He pressed her against the slick wall and made love to her in the cool water, throwing his whole mind and body into the pleasure, and didn’t return to the subject of Amber until they lay beside the well on a blanket, satisfied in one another’s arms, basking in the afterglow.
“Well, I’m waiting,” Molly said, her voice teasing and tinged with curiosity. “What did you find out?”
Matt would have laughed at Molly’s impatience except the subject was too serious. “Her name is Amber Miles, private secretary for the late Phillip Rhoades. The guy’s a rich industrialist said to have connections with a Las Vegas crime boss.”
Molly stiffened in his arms. “Oh, no. I take back everything I said about your interference. It’s a good thing you checked on her. What are we going to do about it?”
“It gets worse. She’s a suspect in Rhoades’ murder.”
“Good grief. Luke could be in danger. Where did he go?”
Matt tightened his jaw. “I don’t know.”
****
The next morning, Luke tried to call Matt as he’d promised, but his brother didn’t answer his cell phone. He tried the big house and got his mother. “How are you feeling, Mom?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
He smiled at the energy in her voice. “Glad to hear it. Is Matt around?”
“No, but he’s eager to talk to you. Claims it’s urgent. He tried your cell, but…”
“Had it turned off.”
“I won’t ask why.” A teasing tone frolicked in his mother’s words.
He groaned. “I think you just did. But it’s a long story.”
“Hmmm. What you mean is, it’s none of my business, right?”
He laughed. “You tryin’ to give me a hard time, beautiful?”
She laughed, too. “Who, me? Never. Give me the number where you’re staying, and Matt’ll call you back.”
Luke felt pressure building in his chest. He couldn’t tell anyone where he was without giving away Amber’s secret. “I’m on the move. I tried to reach Matt’s cell…”
“Doesn’t work. He dropped it in the well last night. Drowned the poor gadget. Don’t ask how. Another mystery.” Her voice carried amusement.
“Where’s Matt now?”
“Stampede Junction. He and Molly are bringing Mando Gomez back to the ranch.”
Luke furrowed his brow. “Why?” Mando was a former Ryan vaquero, and now a guest on the ranch, but Matt and Molly weren’t at all fond of him.
“Someone beat up the poor fellow, took everything he had with him, our horse, Blaze, all the gear, and his cash.”
Luke felt a prickle between his shoulder blades. “Is he hurt bad?”
“Just his pride, according to Matt.”
“I’ll bet. Mando always fancied himself a fighter.” Luke had, too, once. But he had traded a night on the town to have chili under the stars with Amber. Smart decision, it seemed.
“Tell me, son, what’s going on around here? Everyone is so closed-mouth, and there’s this tension on the ranch that puts my teeth on edge.”
“We’re all a little stirred up over the murder of one of the truckers. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“I wish you hadn’t said that.” By her tone, he could almost see her crossing herself. “Every time one of you boys assure me there’s nothing to worry a
bout, that’s when the roof caves in.”
****
Amber glanced at Luke from across the expansive tiled terrace where she’d paused from reading The Cloudmakers to Alicia. Luke’s face darkened like the sky before a storm, yet he gently eased the receiver back into the cradle.
He turned and came toward her. His walk made her heartbeat quicken. His tall stance, erect shoulders, and strong stride drew her eyes to his Levi encased thighs. They were clearly powerful enough to control stallions and bulls, or anything else he might choose to grasp between them. Her cheeks burned. “Bad news?”
“Mando ran into a passel of trouble in Stampede Junction, but he’s okay.”
She shivered without knowing why. “What kind of trouble?”
The intensity of Luke’s eyes burned through her like the first day they had met, stirring uncontrollable emotions.
“A fight,” he said. “I don’t have the details.”
She had the feeling he was holding something back. “Stampede Junction sounds like a place to avoid.”
“Wouldn’t go that far.” He lowered his eyes, drawing a shade down on the topic. When he raised his eyes again he asked, “How did your session with the doctor go?”
“He gave me another shot. Told me to relax. Every time someone tells me that, I want to scream.”
Luke laughed, but the usual cocky sparkle failed to reach his eyes. “There’re some ancient Mexican ruins near here. Want to go exploring? “
“Not now. The shot has made me terribly sleepy. I’d hate to fall off a horse.”
Alicia jumped off Amber’s lap and wrapped her arms around Luke’s legs. She looked up at him with wide, blue eyes. “What’s a ruin?” she asked.
Luke’s voice deepened and took on a mysterious quality. His explanation about the remains of an old Inca city sounded so magical that Alicia begged to go.
Luke grinned. “How about it, Amber? We don’t have to ride horses. We can borrow the doc’s Jeep. Take a pillow. You can sleep all the way if you wish.”
They both looked at her with such hopeful eyes that she couldn’t refuse—didn’t really want to. She liked being with them, liked watching the love that flowed between father and daughter.
Luke bribed De La Fuente’s cook to pack them a picnic basket, and they were ready to leave within the hour.
“You and the doctor seem really close.”
Luke strapped Alicia into the back seat. “He’s friends with the whole family. Matt met him through some FBI case where he saved De La Fuente’s niece from terrorists, and he was Molly’s doctor when she suffered from amnesia.”
“I’d like to hear about that.”
“Get Molly to tell you. I don’t want to get into her private bailiwick.”
After they were underway, Alicia began to hum softly to her Barbie doll. A hot breeze blew through the open Jeep window and whipped Amber’s hair about her face. In the distance a hawk swooped low in a cloudless, deep blue sky. After about fifteen minutes on the road, the vineyards ended, the green vines replaced by miles of cactus and mesquite. Amber covered her mouth to hide a yawn.
“Close your eyes, sleepyhead.” Amused glints sparkled in Luke’s eyes. “I’ll wake you when we get there.”
Amber groaned to herself. No way did she want him watching her conked out with her mouth gaping open, or some other equally unattractive pose. She would stay awake even if she had to hold her eyelids open with her fingers.
“Let’s sing to her, Daddy. That always puts my dolly to sleep.”
“Good idea, Rosebud. How about a lively: Don’t Rock the Boat, Baby. Or Rock Around the Clock?”
“Nooooo, silly. Rockaby Baby is better.”
Amber laughed and shook her head as they began to sing. It warmed her heart the way Luke sang softer than Alicia so he wouldn’t drown out her tiny voice.
The heat, the vibration of wheels on asphalt, and the sound of Luke and Alicia harmonizing Rockaby Baby lulled Amber into a soft, hazy world. Just before she went completely under, Amber chuckled to herself. Even knowing that she would eventually have to face the trouble waiting for her back in San Antonio, she’d never been happier than at this moment.
She floated in a silvery magic place for a moment longer, then sank deeper and deeper into sleep. Suddenly, she was captured in a dream and whisked back in time.
She was in a plush hotel room in San Antonio, holding airline tickets in her hand. She squinted, trying to make out the destination. The silver-haired man next to Amber addressed her as Miss—something. What? She tried to latch onto the last name, but the man’s raspy voice sounded as though it had traveled through a long tunnel. “Did you mail those documents to my sister?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” she said. He had given her the sealed package, and she had addressed it. Then she rushed it to the post office, just as he had instructed. Why was he so edgy?
She waved the tickets and forced a smile. “We’re set. Everything is arranged—top drawer all the way. The limousine will arrive in exactly ten minutes. The driver knows a shortcut to the airport, so we’ll be there early.”
His pacing and jerky pivotal turns unnerved her. He looked a great deal like a middle-aged Gregory Peck. In spite of his distinguished good looks, she wasn’t attracted to him for a host of reasons. The main one was his lack of warmth. Besides, he was at least fifty and she was only twenty.
There was a tap-tap on the door. His face paled.
She started to answer the knock.
“Wait!” he said. “I’ll do it.” He opened the door slowly.
Her heart pounded.
Luke hit a bump in the road, and Amber awoke with a start. Pressure squeezed her chest. Dangerously close to tears, she tried to hang onto the dream. She needed to know what happened next. But the dream was gone.
“You okay?” The concern in his voice touched her, soothed her. “You look as tense as an unbroken stallion.”
She had an urge to smooth the thick hair that curled ruggedly at Luke’s collar, anything to make a connection with him. “I had a dream,” she said softly. “Not one of those unreal kinds, but an actual fragmented memory.”
“You remember any of it?” Luke’s low, hoarse drawl hummed through Amber and worked as a balm to her spirit.
“A little. I was a traveling secretary—leaving San Antonio with my boss.”
“Good lead. What’s his name?”
She shook her head. A warning instinct twisted her insides. “It’s so strange, I can see his face in my mind as clearly as I see yours, but that’s as far as I can go.”
“Hey, don’t sound so frustrated. You know more than you knew yesterday. We have time.”
Amber nodded, but since Elmer’s murder she’d had an eerie feeling that time was about to run out.
****
A busload of tourists pulled away from the ruins as Luke parked the Jeep. Good, he thought. They had the site to themselves. He didn’t want to share this place or this day with anyone but Alicia and Amber.
The ruins consisted of a series of adobe foundations, steps, and crumbling walls. Steel and copper plaques provided dates and history. Luke grabbed a camera while Alicia and Amber raced ahead laughing. He was encouraged by the fact that Amber had had a flash of memory, sketchy as it was, but he also had an irrational surge of jealousy every time he thought about her traveling with her boss. He had no doubt that the situation was strictly professional on her part, but a man would have to be impotent not to want to lure her into bed.
Luke hurried to catch up with them. Ahead, Amber crouched down next to Alicia to study hieroglyphic figures painted low on a crumbling wall. Amber laughed and shook her head, sending fiery tangles of thick, amber hair into a dancing coil of silky flames. Alicia hugged her. It was a Kodak moment, if he’d ever seen one, he thought, and snapped a picture.
Alicia raced to him, and jumped up and down. “Le’mme take a picture of you and Amber.”
“Promise you’ll get your little finger out of the way?”
“But she has such a cute little finger,” Amber said.
“Hey. No fair—two against one.” He grinned. With them, he liked the odds. He gave Alicia the camera and reminded her how to use it, and stepped next to Amber. “Okay, shoot,” he said.
“Hug her, Daddy,” Alicia called with mischief in her blue eyes.
Smiling, he put his arm around Amber. For Alicia’s benefit, he meant to keep it a childrated hug, but at the touch of Amber’s smooth skin, heat shot to his groin, and he hugged her closer than he’d intended.
Her startled gaze flew to his. With her face turned up like that, he was further tempted to kiss her. Both times he’d kissed Amber her mouth had been like flaming marshmallows—soft, sweet, yet fiery against his. Oh, God, he silently moaned as his Levi’s tightened against the zipper.
“Click the picture,” he called. “We can’t stand here like this all day.” Then, he whispered to Amber, “How about a moonlight walk in the doc’s gardens tonight?”
“I’ll think about it,” she said in a saucy tone.
He would, too. And probably little else. It frightened him the emotional investment he was making, not only for himself, but for Alicia. This arrangement was getting more complicated and risky with each passing day.
****
When they returned to De La Fuente’s villa, the doctor pulled Luke aside. “You told me Amber was merely your daughter’s nanny,” he said in his thick Spanish accent, “but I’ve noticed there’s definitely some chemistry going on between you two.”
Luke’s neck prickled. “So?”
“Medically speaking, Amber is very vulnerable, and until those shots work their way through her system, a seven-day window, she’s not a true consenting adult.”
“Meaning?”
“I’m administering the last shot in the morning. If you have any romantic designs on the señorita, it would be the fair and gentlemanly thing to hold off the required seven days before acting on your lusty Ryan emotions.”