It was after ten when she finally placed the last bone, a metacarpal in the hand, to complete skeleton number three. She stared at the finished product and then used her laptop to make notes.
This particular skeleton not only had the skull wound of the others, but also displayed signs of an arm broken in two places and a fractured shoulder.
These poor old bones had been abused long before the person was killed. The injuries appeared to have happened in childhood, although they had been healed fully at the time of death.
Was this another runaway who had been brought to the ranch to work for Cass? Had he run to escape abuse only to be brought here to his death?
She left the tent and began the long walk to the sprawling cowboy motel in the distance. She didn’t envy Dillon in his quest to solve this case. Sometimes it took years and years to identify the dead and even longer to identify a killer.
Thick clouds danced across the light of the three-quarter moon, making the walk even darker than usual. A whisper of sound on the grass behind her gave her a sudden sense of strange vulnerability.
She whirled around, but saw nothing in the darkness behind her. She released a sigh of relief and picked up her pace, eager to get into the safety of her room, even though she had no reason to feel afraid.
She was about twenty feet away from her room when she sensed somebody behind her, a crunch of dried grass, a creepy-crawly skitter up her spine. Before she could turn around to see if anyone was there, a blow landed on the back of her head.
Stars shot off in her vision as incredible pain exploded in her skull. She managed to scream just once before she fell to her knees and crashed to the ground in total blankness.
* * *
The scream was barely audible, but shot Forest off his bed. He yanked on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, grabbed his gun and burst out of his room with a rush of adrenaline.
He was vaguely aware of other ranch hands exiting their rooms, guns out and ready for whatever actions might be necessary.
He froze just outside the door, allowing his eyes to adjust from the brightness of his room to the darkness of the night. He listened intently, but heard nothing except the sound of crickets and other night insects singing their songs.
He didn’t see anyone in the dark, but he would swear he’d heard a sharp, short scream, and it was obvious by the others who had left their rooms that they had heard something, too.
“Spread out and check the grounds,” Forest yelled to the others. At the same time he banged on Patience’s door, the loud knocks also resounding in his heart. The scream had definitely been female.
When there was no reply from Patience, he banged on the door again. Nothing happened and he knew she wasn’t in her room. His heartbeat accelerated and he hurried in the direction of the dark tent, using the general path she always took from there to her room.
Officer Ben Taylor came running from the tent area, along with Devon who had apparently left the trailer. “What happened? I heard somebody scream, but I was on the other side of the tent and didn’t see anyone,” Ben said.
“It was Patience,” Forest said and then nearly stumbled over her prone body on the ground. “Here, she’s here,” he cried to the others as he knelt down beside her.
“Patience?” She was facedown, with her head turned to one side. “Patience,” he said again even though it was obvious she was unconscious.
Dusty and Sawyer raced to Forest. “Get me a car, I need to get her to the hospital,” Forest said frantically. There was no way he was waiting for an ambulance from town to arrive and then take her back to the hospital. She needed medical attention as soon as possible.
“Are you sure you should move her?” Dusty asked worriedly. He flicked on a flashlight and shone it on her.
“I can’t wait around for old Doc Washington or an ambulance to get out here. She needs help right now.” She looked so tiny, so lifeless and pale, and he had no idea why she had screamed and was now on the ground unconscious. What had happened to her between the tent and her room?
By that time Sawyer pulled up in the car that had once belonged to Cass, a vehicle that was always ready not only for Cassie to use, but for the ranch hands who might need it for one thing or another.
Sawyer remained in the driver seat. Forest hesitated only a moment, Dusty’s concerns ringing in his ears. Would moving her make things worse? He didn’t see any obvious broken bones, but he also wasn’t a doctor.
She certainly wasn’t going to get any help with him being too concerned, too hesitant to act. He shoved his gun in the back of his waistband and then as gently as possible, he picked her up in his arms.
Light as a feather and still not showing any sign of waking, she lay limp in his arms as he placed her into the backseat and he crawled in next to her and placed her head in his lap.
Fear rode with him as Sawyer tore out of the ranch entrance. Had she fainted? He knew she’d been living mostly on junk food and sodas. He should have insisted she join the cowboys in the dining room where she could eat healthy, hardy meals each evening.
“Patience, can you wake up?” He stroked a finger down the side of her cheek. Soft, her skin was so soft. But the longer she remained unresponsive the more worried he grew.
The only thing that gave him some modicum of relief was that her breathing appeared normal. There was no bruising on her face, no indication that she’d hit her forehead on the ground. She just looked like she was asleep. They had just turned into the Bitterroot Hospital when she regained consciousness.
She looked up at Forest and frowned. “What happened?” She struggled to sit up, but Forest held her down. “Where am I?” Her eyes radiated sheer panic.
“Patience, everything is all right now. We’re at the hospital. You’ve been unconscious,” he replied, grateful as Sawyer pulled to the Emergency entrance.
“What happened?” she repeated.
“We don’t know yet.”
Sawyer pulled to a stop, got out of the car and raced for the entrance. He appeared a moment later with two orderlies maneuvering a gurney toward the car.
“What happened?” Patience repeated yet again, increasing Forest’s concern. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
Forest got her out of the car just in time for her to bend over and puke. Forest held on to her and once she was finished, she was placed on the gurney. “We found her unconscious on the ground,” Forest said. One of the orderlies nodded and she was quickly whisked away.
“Go to the waiting room,” one of the men yelled over his shoulder.
Inside the building, Sawyer sat on one of the padded chairs, and Forest paced, his heart still beating too fast as he tried to figure out what had happened to her.
Had she merely tripped over the uneven ground? It just didn’t seem possible that she’d fallen forward and hit her head hard enough to render her unconscious, especially since there had been no marks on her forehead or anywhere on her lovely face.
“I hope the rest of the men checked out the area where she was,” Sawyer said. “If somebody attacked her, then maybe they found something that might help us find the person.”
Forest threw himself in the chair next to his buddy. His worry transformed into a simmering rage. “If somebody attacked her, then Dillon better figure out who it was and let me know the name.”
“I’d hate to have to visit you in prison,” Sawyer said dryly.
“I won’t kill him, but I’ll make damn sure he wishes I did,” Forest said with fervor. “Besides, until we hear from the doctor or Patience, we probably shouldn’t jump to any conclusions.”
Still as they waited it was difficult not to jump to all kinds of crazy conclusions. Had she been bitten by a snake? Had she fainted from exhaustion? Then why did she scream?
Something had obviously frightened her for he
r to scream. What on earth had happened in the dark of night that might have rendered her unconscious?
His momentary rage went back to full-blown worry as the agonizing wait continued. He finally got up and began to pace once again, unable to sit still as concern jumped and bubbled inside him.
Finally Dr. Clayton Rivers came out to speak to them. Clayton was thirty years old, two years younger than Forest. The two had socialized at town events over the years.
“First of all, she’s going to be all right,” he said before Forest or Sawyer could speak.
A rush of sweet relief washed over Forest. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“She shows all the symptoms of a mild to moderate concussion, so I took some X-rays. She has a goose egg on the left side of the back of her head, and I’d say she was whacked with some blunt object. She remembers nothing of the event, but that’s not unusual in the case of a concussion.”
“But she’s going to be okay?” Forest asked worriedly, tamping down his outrage at the idea of somebody sneaking up behind her and hitting her over the head. He’d deal with that particular emotion later.
“She should be fine. I’d like to keep her here tonight under observation, but she’s refusing quite firmly and quite colorfully to stay.”
“Then she must be okay,” Sawyer muttered under his breath.
“I can’t force her to remain here,” Clayton said. “She’s already told me several times that she’ll leave against medical advice.”
Forest released a deep sigh. He knew if she had made up her muddled mind, then nothing and nobody would change it. “If we take her back to the ranch, what needs to be done for her?”
Clayton frowned. “First and foremost she needs bed rest. She needs to relax and not strain her brain for the next couple of days. I don’t want her left alone for tonight. Somebody needs to sit with her to make sure her symptoms don’t get worse. I know it’s a little old school, but she needs to be awakened about every hour or so and her pupils checked to make sure they stay the same size and shape. If things change, if she throws up or shows more confusion, then she needs to be brought back here immediately.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Forest said firmly. “I’ll take care of her.”
“Just let me out of here.” Patience’s cranky voice filled the air. “I’m fine and I’m not staying here for another minute.”
Sawyer shot a quick look at Forest. “If you’re planning on being with her for the next couple of days, even though you’re a big guy, I just hope the dragon lady doesn’t eat you alive.”
Chapter 5
Dillon awaited them at the door to Patience’s room. There was no way Patience wanted to deal with him or any questions he might have for her. She had a killer headache and was confused as hell. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep forever.
“Ben called me,” Dillon said as they approached the room. “Dusty told him that something had happened to Dr. Forbes and that I should have a talk with you.”
He looked expectantly at Patience. She stared back at him, not knowing what to say. Forest had taken her room key from her in the car and he used it to open the door.
With a sigh of relief and without speaking, she went inside, leaving the two men in the darkness just outside her room door. She stumbled into the bathroom, certain that her head might explode at any moment. She took off her clothes, pulled her nightgown over her head and then got into bed and closed her eyes.
“...attacked and hit over the head.”
“...see anything?”
“...she doesn’t remember anything.”
Snatches of conversation drifted in from her open door. Shut up, she wanted to scream. She wanted the door closed and no noise at all, but her head hurt too badly to get out of bed and accomplish what she wanted.
Even though she wanted to quiet her brain, the confusion inside refused to be silent. What had happened to her? The last thing she remembered was placing the final bone in skeleton three. Everything that had occurred after that was shrouded in darkness until she’d regained consciousness in the car in front of the hospital.
Tears welled up as her head continued to bang with a force she’d never experienced before. She sucked them back, grateful that the only light in the room was that which flowed from the tiny bathroom.
She hoped that when Dillon and Forest finished their conversation, one of them would close her door so she could just quiet her mind and go to sleep. She’d be fine in the morning if she could just get some blessed sleep and rid herself of her torturous headache.
The voices outside her door stopped and a few minutes later her door closed, but she knew she wasn’t alone. “Forest?” she guessed without opening her eyes. She could tell it was him by his scent, a clean smell of the outdoors with a hint of fresh fragrant cologne.
“Yeah, I’m right here in the chair.”
She cracked open an eyelid and peered across the small room. He sat in the straight-backed chair against the wall, wearing his holster and gun and holding what appeared to be a small flashlight. “What are you doing in here?” She closed her eye once again.
“I’m going to be here with you all night. It’s what the doctor ordered.”
She wanted to protest. Doctor or no doctor, she didn’t want or need Forest sitting with her all night. She wanted to rant and rail, but her headache made it impossible.
“I don’t like this,” she finally managed to say. “I don’t like it at all.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. For the next couple of days you aren’t in charge of you,” he replied easily.
“If I didn’t have a headache that’s about to kill me, I’d force you to leave this room right now. I’d scream and curse and drive you away with all of my viciousness.”
He released a small, deep laugh. “You and what army?”
She cracked open one eye again and gave him the most baleful look she could muster before a groan escaped her.
“Would a cool cloth on your forehead help?” he asked sympathetically.
She didn’t want anything from him. She didn’t want him to be in the privacy of her room, but the thought of a cool washcloth across her banging forehead sounded like Heaven. “Please,” she said, hating the faint whimper in her voice.
The chair creaked slightly, indicating that he’d gotten up. The sound of water running in the sink made her want to weep in anticipation of something...anything that might ease the grip of her headache. The water stopped running and then the cool cloth touched her forehead.
For a rough, tough cowboy, he had a gentle touch. He moved the folded cloth softly until it was perfectly centered on her forehead and then returned to the chair that squeaked as he sat back down. She had no memory of anyone ever touching her so tenderly, of anyone attempting to soothe her in any way.
“Better?” he asked after a few minutes had passed.
“A little. Why are you here with me?”
“You have a concussion. You shouldn’t be left alone.”
“Why can’t I remember what happened to me?”
“Because you have a concussion. Patience, try not to worry. Don’t overthink things. Just relax and rest. That’s what the doctor said you need more than anything right now. Don’t work your brain at all.”
“I’ll be fine in the morning,” she said more to herself than to him. She had to be fine. She had work to do and people depending on her. Already too much time had passed on this particular job.
“You’ll be in that bed for at least tomorrow,” he countered. “Doctor’s orders and we never argue with the doctor.”
She said nothing. She didn’t have the wherewithal to argue with him or anyone else tonight, but she couldn’t just laze around in bed for a whole day. That’s not what she did. But she’d worry abo
ut fighting him in the morning when she felt better.
She must have fallen asleep, for the next thing she knew he was calling her name. “I need to check your pupils,” he said.
“Okay,” she replied. The brightness of his flashlight shone first in one eye and then in the other.
“Looks good,” he said and the light disappeared and he returned to his chair.
“Are you going to stay awake all night to do that?” she asked.
“That’s the plan,” he replied. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve stayed up many nights before. I’ve ridden in the cattle herd through nights when we believed predators were near or when a cow was about to give birth. Taking care of you for the night is my pleasure.”
Patience closed her eyes once again and fought against the sting of tears. Jeez, the concussion must be making her unusually emotional.
At no time in her life, at no time during her childhood had somebody taken care of her...especially not with pleasure. When her mother had been in the house, life had been all about her drama, with little attention paid to her daughter.
When her mother had left, her father certainly hadn’t been a warm and fuzzy caretaker. She couldn’t remember a single kiss, a stroke across the brow or a gentle pat on the shoulder.
Although tenderness and nurturing wasn’t in her DNA, she couldn’t help but be grateful that Forest was with her tonight and it apparently was in his genes.
“Tell me more about your childhood, about when your parents were alive,” she said, knowing that falling back asleep would take a little time. At least her headache had eased somewhat, which was a blessing.
“My parents were the greatest,” he began. “From the time I was old enough to notice, their love for one another was palpable. Dad was a charmer and a tease and Mom laughed at all of his bad jokes. She allowed him to be himself and loved him for it.”
“What did they do for a living?” she asked.
“Dad was an insurance salesman and Mom was a second-grade school teacher. We ate dinner together every night and had family Friday nights when we ate popcorn and watched movies together.” There was a soft wistfulness in his voice.
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