by Lynde Lakes
She glanced around, then rushed into the safety of the house. She found Molly in the living room reading to Alicia and Sara Jane. When Amber sat down on the couch, Alicia climbed up on her lap, clinging to her Barbie doll. Amber gave Alicia a hug, treasuring the normalcy of holding this child she’d grown to love like her own.
The doll tumbled to the floor, and Amber picked it up and returned it to Alicia. An image flashed into Amber’s mind—the naked Barbie with the tangled hair and missing leg—it wasn’t her doll at all! It was a doll her Grandmother Meta had taken home to repair. Memories flooded Amber’s mind. Grandma had repaired dolls year round, and in Amber’s teens she’d worked by the gentle woman’s side, repainting faces and making clothes for the dolls. At big yearly Christmas parties at the community center, she and her grandma would dress up like Mrs. Claus and her elf to give out the beautiful dolls to eager, smiling children. Relief washed over Amber—the Barbie wasn’t a bad symbol of her childhood—it was part of a cherished tradition she’d shared with her grandma.
Amber’s throat constricted as she remembered something else—three years ago her snowy-haired grandma had slipped away in her sleep, leaving her alone. Amber had buried herself in work and school, but nothing eased the pain. Living in her grandma’s house was a constant reminder of her loss, and each day the loneliness grew more and more unbearable. Mr. Rhoades’ job offer had been her escape.
Amber frowned. What about her parents? Why was she living with her grandma? She closed her eyes and more memory hit her in a jarring blow. Her parents had been killed in a car crash when she was five. Grandma had raised her. Amber willed her pounding heart to settle down. She kissed the top of Alicia’s head, recalling the torment of losing a mother at a tender age. If only she could stay around and make the motherless journey easier for Alicia.
With a resounding clap, Molly closed the storybook. “That’s it girls,” she told the children, “time for bed.”
With effort, Amber shoved her personal bombshell aside, then she and Molly carried Alicia and Sara Jane up to bed.
After they tucked the girls in, Amber and Molly met in the kitchen for Lipton’s Sun Spree strawberry tea and grilled cheese sandwiches. A silence had fallen between them. Molly toyed with her spoon, stirring the liquid beyond any possible need, her eyes not quite meeting Amber’s. “Matt said you have amnesia?”
Amber’s heart thudded. Did everyone know? “I’m starting to get my memory back in dribs and drabs. I’m sorry I misled you about who I am. But I simply didn’t know.”
“Matt called Dr. De La Fuente and verified your illness. I wasn’t surprised you have amnesia. I sensed something like that the first time we met. Your eyes were guarded, leery—like I felt when I had amnesia.” Her lips turned up slightly in the corners. “You have nothing to fear from us, Amber. We’re okay folks, once you get to know us.”
Amber managed to return a small smile. Molly understood. A weight lifted from Amber’s shoulders “Did it all come back? Your memory, I mean?”
Molly nodded. “It took months, getting flashes, then one day I just remembered everything.”
“What caused you to lose your memory?”
Molly explained that while in the witness protection program the agents guarding her had been murdered and her baby kidnapped. “When the killers took my baby, I went off the deep end. Matt rescued Sara Jane, but the killers came after us again.”
Amber’s stomach knotted. It was bad enough that someone might be after her, but if they targeted an innocent child…She squeezed Molly’s hand, wanting to comfort her and not knowing how.
“Matt and Luke were unstoppable heroes,” Molly continued. “Both of them got shot, but injuries didn’t stop them. Protecting me is how Luke got the tip of his ear shot off, in case you wondered about that.”
Amber had figured there was an interesting story behind it, but she would’ve never asked.
“Only the Grace of God spared his hearing,” Molly said.
Amber silently added her own thanks. It seemed her Luke was a very brave man. Her Luke? What was she thinking?
Molly was drawing little grooves in the table cloth with the edge of her spoon. “In the end, Luke and Matt worked together like a whole posse. They stormed into the hotel room and saved everyone. You’re lucky they’re in your corner.”
Amber wasn’t sure Matt was in her corner. But maybe she’d misjudged him, too. Perhaps all this wariness was just part of her illness like Dr. De La Fuente had said. But she couldn’t rationalize away Elmer’s murder, or her feeling of being watched.
“I’ve been where you are,” Molly said, touching Amber’s hand. “If you need me, I’m here.”
“Thanks. Just knowing someone understands how lost and disoriented I feel helps.” She had felt a thready connection with Molly from the beginning, but now it seemed stronger, almost like they were sisters. With no other living family in her life, this developing bond meant a lot.
Wanda stuck her head in the door. “Amber, telephone.” She held out a cell phone.
Amber stiffened. “No one knows I’m here.” Please, let that be true.
“Take it easy,” Molly said. “It’s probably just Luke calling from the barn.”
Wanda shook her head. “No, I would’ve recognized his voice.” She shoved the phone a little closer and laughed. “Why don’t you just say hello and find out for yourself?”
Amber hesitated.
Molly gave Amber’s arm a supportive squeeze. “Maybe it’s Dr. De La Fuente. He knows you’re here.”
Amber gave a nervous laugh. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?” She wiped her damp palms on the side of her jeans. Still, her hands trembled as she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” she said tentatively.
She heard breathing…even and calm…
Her throat went dry. “Hello?” she barked.
Chapter Eight
Luke swallowed his disappointment as he met seven of the new vaqueros. None of them gave him reason to be suspicious. They all denied any knowledge of the Ryan spread, and were willing to have their photographs taken for identification. The other five new hires had gone to Mitchell’s Corner to party and wouldn’t be back until late. He had hoped to cut trouble from the herd before it struck. Now, he had to wait until morning to question the missing men.
He joined Matt and Buck to set up the temporary ticket booth for the charity rodeo. Darkness had crept up on them, and they had to work by portable floodlights. With the three of them pitching in, the cubicle went up fast. Luke nailed the last board. Then, leaving Matt and Buck talking to a neighbor who’d come to help, he headed for the main house.
Only one of the seven days had passed. Waiting for the drug to wash from Amber’s system was like walking a narrow rail—one misstep and he’d fall. He tightened his jaw. Six more long days. He remembered her fiery kisses and wanted more. Hell, he wanted it all. He wanted to wake up in the morning and smell her hair—see it spilling across his pillow. No matter what happened, he couldn’t imagine himself feeling any different from the way he felt now. No matter what her history might be or what she might have gotten herself mixed up in, he wanted her in his bed.
He hustled along, hoping she was still up. Amber Miles. He repeated the name to himself. Now he had a valid name, and sooner or later he’d have to deal with her background. He shook his head. A twenty-year-old woman taking a traveling job with a man of uncertain character raised questions. Had Rhoades drawn her into something illegal? Luke couldn’t buy it. He couldn’t be wrong about her core of sweetness. He had spent hours watching the tape, getting to know her every gesture…falling for her quick smile, her laughing eyes. With her on the road, it wasn’t likely she had a husband somewhere. But what about a boyfriend?
Luke frowned. Her romantic life was not an issue. He had to concentrate on keeping Amber safe, and help her remember what had led up to the shooting. The more he could learn about her, the easier those two things would be.
The minute Lu
ke entered the living room he knew something was wrong. His mom was wringing her hands, and Molly nibbled at her lower lip. Amber rushed up to him, looking pale. He searched her face and found glints of fear in her eyes.
“What is it?” he asked, taking her icy hands in his steady grip.
“A guy called here and asked for me. When I took the phone all I heard was breathing, even, calm…chilling, frightening.”
Luke cursed under his breath. Without a memory to gauge the danger, Amber’s fear had to be tenfold, imagining faceless enemies behind every shadow. “Who else talked to him?”
“I did,” Virginia said, wrinkling her forehead into deep worry furrows. “He had a radio announcer’s voice. Sounded formal, maybe a Latino, not local.”
“Good description, Mom. Don’t worry. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” He grabbed Amber’s arm. “I need to talk to you alone.” He turned to his mother. “Can you sit with Alicia for a while?”
“My pleasure,” she said in a cheery tone, but her expression remained tight.
Luke darted a glance at Molly. “Matt said to tell you he’ll only be about fifteen minutes longer. So warm up the…” Luke forced a light tone and arched a teasing eyebrow. “Whatever it is you usually warm up for my brother.”
His attempt at humor fell flat. Without another word, he and Amber headed for the barn.
The Texas sky hung above them, black as newly pumped oil, scattered with glittering stars, the darkness broken only by two flood lights in the distance and the porch lights behind them. The dual lighting threw grotesque, elongated double shadows ahead and behind.
“I sense the caller close by, feel him watching me,” Amber said rubbing her arms as they hurried across the compound.
Luke glanced around. He wished he could ease her fears and make the danger go away. “It was just a phone call.”
“Just a phone call?”
He winced at her wounded look. “That didn’t come out right.” Damn. He had meant to comfort her and failed. “I meant to say the only reason the SOB is calling because he can’t get to you any other way. I’ll ask Matt to put a call tracer on the line.”
Amber mulled his words over, then asked, “Did you know Matt called Dr. De La Fuente to verify my amnesia?”
Luke shook his head. “But it’s Matt’s nature to check everything. See it as a positive thing, and be glad he’s on your side.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m not at all sure he is.”
“What can I say to convince you?”
“Forget it.” Abruptly, she stopped walking and faced him. Her eyes flashed, looking greener than the deepest part of Verde creek. “Now, what’s going on?” she demanded. “Why did you talk to Buck’s new hires?”
Three passing vaqueros looked them over with curiosity.
“Not here in the open.” Luke drew Amber inside the barn. She trembled against him and his awareness of how small and vulnerable she looked, how scared, shook him to the core. The doctor had said to keep her as calm as possible. Luke grabbed two grooming brushes from a shelf and handed her one. “Something about caring for horses makes troubles ride drag. Cowboy therapy, we call it.”
Amber rolled her eyes, but followed him into the stall where Buck’s quarter horse, Sandalwood, munched on straw.
Luke began to smooth the horse’s coat in long strokes. “Come on, try it.”
Amber gave Sandalwood’s shiny coat several halfhearted brushstrokes, then stopped. “Well? What about the new hires?”
Luke sighed. He admired her tenacity, but worried that his answers might increase her anxiety. On the other hand, she had a right to know the danger had climbed another notch. “Mando’s attack might somehow be a part of all this. His attacker stole our horse, Blaze. Then Blaze showed up on the ranch. The stallion could’ve returned on his own, but it’s possible someone rode him back to the ranch.”
“What are you saying?”
“Shortly after our horse showed up, so did some strangers, looking for work. One of them could’ve been the horse thief. And although it’s a stretch, he could be the man who killed Elmer.”
To soften the impact of his words Luke took some sugar cubes from his pocket and gave a few to Amber. “Sandalwood loves sugar,” he said.
Absently, Amber opened her hand and let the horse gently nibble the cubes from her palm. Two tiny wrinkles formed on the bridge of her nose. “So it’s good we left?” she asked in a puzzled tone.
“Yes and no. We weren’t hiring—but Buck was—so Alfonso referred the strangers here.”
Amber’s face paled. “You think the killer might be among Buck’s recent hires!” Her voice cracked like a dry twig. She left the stall and sank down on a bale of hay. Bracing her arms on her knees, she held her head between her palms.
Luke followed and squatted in front of her. She raised her head, and the worried look in her eyes reached down inside of him and gripped his heart like a fist of foreboding. He took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles. “Easy,” he said in the same low tone he used to quiet a skittish horse. “This is still speculation. We’re not sure those guys who came to our ranch are here. Or if the killer is among them.”
“Aren’t we? What about the phone call? What about my sense of someone watching me? Oh, God…” She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. After a moment she gave her long tresses a determined shake and lifted her chin. “Okay. Okay,” she said as though the words gave her focus. “Buck’s new hires—you talked to them. What did they say?”
Luke admired her brave fight to hold onto her courage. He wanted to take her in his arms, comfort her. But he couldn’t trust himself to keep things platonic. “No red flags with the seven I talked to,” he said. “Five went into town to party. I’ll talk to them in the morning.”
“Oh, just great.” Her expression darkened. “Oh, well. What good will it do to talk to them anyway? Do you really expect one of them to say, ‘I’m the guy who’s after Amber’? I don’t think so!” She rose on unsteady feet. “I have to get away from here.”
A group of vaqueros entered the far end of the barn, laughing and joking. Luke drew her into the shadows of an empty stall. “Running isn’t the answer,” he said in a low voice. “If a killer followed you here, he could follow you anywhere. We have to find him and stop him.”
“How?” She sank down on the stall floor, and patted a spot beside her. “And I want straight answers! What are you looking for?”
He slid down the opposite wall and sat across from her, not wanting to test his willpower by sitting next to her. “Uneasiness, a guarded look in the eyes—”
“As concrete as all that?” Her sarcasm cut the air like a whip. “A red flag to me would be proof that one or more of those men stopped at your ranch before coming here. If Alfonso referred some vaqueros to Buck, he can identify them, right?”
“But he’s not here.”
“What about photos?”
“We’ll take some and fax them to Alfonso. But that’ll take time.”
“What about Roberto? Maybe he saw them, too.”
“I thought of that. But he and Suzy hit out for the open range on horseback. If I read those two correctly, I’d say they won’t be back until late. I’ll talk to him in the morning.”
Amber looked more frightened than he’d ever seen her. And she had every right to be. Without her complete memory, any stranger could spell danger. Luke’s arms ached to hold her, give her his strength.
“Roberto said he expected to see me here,” she said. “Why? And who else knew I’d be here?”
Luke tried for an unruffled voice. “Tita probably mentioned it to him. Or Matt. Or Mando. Maybe Alfonso.”
“Gee, why didn’t you just tell the whole blasted ranch?”
“Dammit, when I agreed to help with the charity rodeo, I didn’t even know you. And at the time, my plans sure as hell weren’t any secret!”
She lowered her eyes.
“Look,” he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t
have shouted.”
She laughed. “So much for your cowboy therapy.”
“Yeah, well nothing works a hundred percent.”
Somehow Amber had managed to hang on to her sense of humor even in the face of danger. He had a reckless urge to show his admiration for her courage with a long, passionate kiss. But he didn’t dare. He took a deep breath to rein in desire. “I’ve been thinking about the package you mailed to Rhoades’ sister. Any ideas what might’ve been in it?”
“By the shape and weight, maybe a journal or ledger.”
Luke stroked his jaw. “Hmmm. A nervous, wealthy entrepreneur. Rumors of connections to a Vegas crime boss. A mailed register or journal. Then some guys broke in. Next the entrepreneur gets murdered.”
Amber shuddered. “And I woke up with the murder weapon in my hand.”
“An obvious frame. I believe we’re thinking the same thing—that the package might be the key to everything. If only you could remember more about Rhoades’ dealings.”
“I told you all I remember. He bought businesses in trouble. He was planning to meet a man at the MGM Hotel about buying a nearly bankrupt plastics firm.”
“A name would help.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Don’t you think I know that?”
The desperation in her voice reached inside him and squeezed his heart. He took a fortifying breath. “What about those letters Rhoades sent to Senator Whitmore? With government contracts involved, I’ll bet Whitmore could give us some helpful names.”
“What if the senator’s the man behind the killings and the one who ordered a hit on me?” Amber asked, her fragile emotions growing more intense.
Luke’s gut tightened. “Do you have some reason to think that?”
“I don’t know…I guess not. But don’t you see? It could be anyone from the senator to some Las Vegas crime boss. Or even the owner of the plastics factory. Or goodness knows who else.” Tears welled in her eyes. “And the worst part is, they know me but I don’t know them.”