The Heiress and the Sheriff. Stella Bagwell
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small cut on her forehead, and she was complaining of a severe headache.”
“Didn’t she have any identification?”
Wyatt shook his head. “It must have been in the car. I’m going to search it after it cools down, but I doubt there’s a chance in hell I’ll find anything. Your sister-in-law, Maggie, saw the accident. She was still with the young woman when I got out there to investigate.”
“Maggie didn’t know her?”
“No. The woman says her name is Gabrielle Carter. I thought it mighty odd she could remember her name but nothing else.”
“Gabrielle Carter,” the young doctor repeated. “The name doesn’t ring a bell with me. Do you think she might have some connection to my son? Maybe the kidnappers sent her to the ranch for some reason?”
Losing baby Bryan had put a strain on the whole family, but Wyatt could see it was beginning to crush Matthew and Claudia’s marriage. Especially now that the DNA testing to determine paternity of Taylor had shown Matthew was the father. Matthew claimed it could only be the result of a sperm bank donation he’d made years ago, but Claudia was distraught and skeptical. Wyatt was checking out the sperm bank lead, though.
“I can’t rule that possibility out, Matthew. Or she might even have some connection to Taylor. We really won’t know until she comes clean with her memory or I can find out who she really is.”
“Then you think she’s lying?” Matthew asked.
Wyatt grimaced. “I don’t know. I just have a gut feeling something’s not quite right. But I could be wrong. You’re the doctor—is it possible the accident caused her to lose her memory?”
Matthew thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “It’s possible, though amnesia is certainly not something that happens routinely. You say she has a head injury?”
“Her forehead was cut at the hairline and she was complaining of a headache. Could you examine her, Matthew? I’d like to have your opinion before I do anything. And who knows—you might recognize the woman.”
The young doctor glanced at his watch. “I’m not due for rounds for another thirty minutes. Let’s go in, and we’ll see what we can find out.”
The two men left the shade and as they approached the entrance of the building, Wyatt placed his hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “Matthew, when you first see this woman, don’t let on that you’re a Fortune. I want to see if there’s any sign of recognition on her face.”
Matthew frowned. “You sure are a suspicious cuss.”
“I have to be.” Wyatt grimaced. “And you should be, too, after all that’s been happening to your family.”
The doctor sighed. “Yes, I know. I just hate all this mistrust. Every time a stranger comes to the ranch, I look at them and wonder if they know where my son is, or if they know something about baby Taylor. I’m even starting to look for clues with my patients here at the hospital! And Claudia—you know what all these unanswered questions are doing to her.”
Wyatt squeezed the other man’s shoulder. “Believe me, Matthew, I understand how hard all of this has been on you. But you can’t give up hope now. This woman might just be the lead we’ve been looking for.”
Back in Emergency, the two men discovered Gabrielle had been admitted to the hospital and taken up to the fifth floor. They headed up together.
Much to Wyatt’s surprise, when they walked through the door of her room, she gave absolutely no outward sign of recognizing Matthew. Rather, she planted an accusing look on Wyatt as though he were the direct cause of her being restricted to a hospital bed.
“I take it you haven’t done enough to me?” she asked Wyatt. “You’ve come up here to take my fingerprints or something?”
Wyatt went to the head of her bed and stared down at her. The cut on her forehead had been covered by a bandage, but he could see the whole spot had begun to swell and redden. Someone had undressed her and put her into a flimsy hospital gown. He tried not to notice the shape of her bare breast beneath the thin cotton. But it was next to impossible to keep his gaze from dipping to the full roundness pushing against the fabric.
“Or something,” he said, while fighting the odd urge to reach down and brush the tangled hair away from her cheek. He’d been around a lot of pretty women in his thirty-one years—Texas was full of them. But there was something different about this one. Something that, God help him, made him want to protect her.
“I told you I wouldn’t leave. What did the doctor say?” he asked.
Sighing, her gaze dropped to the sheet spread across her legs. “He said I had a concussion and that I’ll have to stay in here for observation. At least until tomorrow.”
“Have you remembered anything?”
“No. But he thinks everything will start coming back to me soon.”
She glanced to the foot of the bed where Matthew was busily scanning her chart. “Who are you?” she asked him.
He glanced at Wyatt, then to Gabrielle. “I’m—one of the staff doctors here at the hospital.”
“Are you going to be my doctor?”
He smiled gently at her. “That depends.”
She motioned to the chart in his hand. “What does that say?”
“It says you’ve had a trauma to your head. But you’re going to be all right.”
She looked up at Wyatt and flashed him a crooked smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, Sheriff, but the doc here says I’m going to live.”
She was obviously trying to be flip and indifferent, but Wyatt didn’t miss the quiver at the corner of her lips. She was as frightened as hell. But whether it was from her loss of memory or because she was up to something, he had no way of knowing.
He pulled his gaze from hers and glanced at Matthew. “Have you seen enough?”
“Yes. I’ve got to start my rounds.” He came to stand by Wyatt and looked down at Gabrielle. “Has your vision cleared any, Miss Carter?”
Her eyes squinted as she tried to focus on the doctor’s face. “At times it’s clear, and then it gets fuzzy again. Right now you look a little blurred.”
“That’s understandable.” He slipped a penlight out of his lab coat and shined it in each of her eyes. “I imagine you’ve got quite a headache.”
“They gave me something down in Emergency. It’s beginning to ease a little.”
“That’s good.
She swallowed nervously as her gaze vacillated from one man to the other. “Doctor, what if I don’t remember tomorrow? Is there something you can give me or do to me to make me remember?”
Matthew patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry about your memory, Miss Carter. Just rest and let your body try to heal itself. Right now that’s the best thing you can do.”
She nodded, and Matthew made a motion to Wyatt that they should leave the room.
“I’ll be back later, Gabrielle,” Wyatt promised. “After I’ve searched your car.”
He saw her study his face, then deliberately turn her head toward a window to her right. The light coming through the slatted blinds spread a soft glow behind her, and the sight of her tender profile hit a spot smack in the middle of Wyatt’s chest.
“It’s a cinch you’ll know where to find me,” she said quietly.
He cleared his throat while mentally shaking himself. “Just make sure you don’t try to sneak off from this place. I’ll find you wherever you go.”
Outside in the hallway, Wyatt deliberately put several feet between them and Gabrielle’s