Colton On The Run

Only problem with taking care of fifty head of cattle on his own was that by the time he got back from ranch duties, all he wanted to do was curl up with dinner and a book.

His hope that by the time Gwen and Lacey returned he’d have at least one of the outbuildings ready for them to move into was a fading hope, despite it being the perfect enticement for Gwen to accept the promotion. Until then...

With such a small herd, Leo didn’t need to be spending the extra money on help when he could handle things himself. But once that count quadrupled and grew, well, Gwen was going to be thrilled she’d had a vacation.

“You up for a morning run, Duke?” Leo ran his hand down the gelding’s nose. “I know I am.”

A sharp bark exploded from the direction of the barn. Duke neighed and stomped back. “That’s just Ollie,” Leo reminded the horse even as his own curiosity piqued. The German shepherd wasn’t normally quick to bark and certainly wasn’t easily spooked. “I bet he’s gotten himself tangled up again.” The still-young pup had a tendency of playing with ropes left lying around. On the bright side, Leo would bet the dog could win his share of knot-tying contests.

“I’d best go see what’s going on. You wait for me here, okay?” As if the horse was going to go anywhere. Other than to the feed bag Leo had filled the second he came into the stable. Chuckling to himself, he looped the reins around the hitching post and headed to the barn.

Ollie’s barking was getting louder. Leo found him just inside the door of the barn, at attention, nose pointed to the back corner where the hay was piled as high as the second story. “What’s going on, boy?” He bent down to scrub the dog’s undercoat. “Something got you spooked? You find that mean old cat you were chasing the other day?”

Leo froze at the rustling in the corner. That wasn’t any cat. And that barely there whimper set his ears on alert.

“Whoever you are—” Leo rose to his feet “—I don’t mean any harm, but you need to be moving on.”

More rustling. More scrambling. Metal scraping against the plank siding.

“I mean it.” He moved forward, Ollie close beside him growling low in the back of his throat. “I know it was cold out last night and you probably needed a place to—” he rounded the back of the hay bales “—sleep.” Whatever else he was planning to say evaporated from his mind. The woman crouching in the corner of the barn stared back at him with wide-eyed fear. “Hello.”

Was it possible to be perfectly coherent and still think he was imagining things? The woman huddled before him had hair the color of a summer bonfire, bright red with copper-and-gold highlights. Hair that was tangled around her shoulders and her face. A beautiful face that reminded him of his grandmother’s bisque china collection. Delicate but sturdy enough to withstand the trembling coursing through her. Dark blood had trickled down the side of her face to soak the once-white silk blouse. Silk? Out here on the outskirts of town? Her equally bright slacks were torn and muddy, and her filthy bare feet were covered with cuts and scrapes.

The dazed expression in her eyes triggered every protective instinct within Leo. He crouched, trying to make himself appear as small as possible as he continued his assessment. Beneath and around the grime on her face, he could see the distinct impression of a large hand—a welt that had bled, but not as profusely as the gash on her head. The way her shirt was ripped told him it hadn’t been the result of errant branches or trees but by angry, determined hands.

Had she been raped?

Leo swallowed his fury. Whatever had happened, she didn’t need anger or outrage. She needed calm understanding. She needed his help...and his protection. He forced himself to relax, to act as if they were doing nothing more than meeting over coffee at the diner in town. Ollie finally relaxed and sat down, then looked from Leo to the woman.

She shifted, only slightly, and the rusted garden shears in her hands glinted in the morning sunlight streaming through the upper opening of the barn. He remained still, his hand deep in Ollie’s fur.

“You’re hurt.” He kept his voice low. Soft. Gentle.

She flinched. And nodded once.

“Was there an accident? Were you in a car?” He resisted the urge to look behind him to scan outside, but he would have noticed a vehicle in the vicinity.

Her fingers went white around the shears.

“Were you alone?” He tried again. “Is someone else hurt? I should go call—” He shifted back, turned as if about to stand and felt her hand grip his arm. Leo tried to ignore the instant jolt that shot straight through him as if she’d dived at him, as if she’d jump-started his dormant heart.

Ollie growled, moved in, sniffed the woman’s hand and, after a moment, pushed his nose solidly against her arm as if demanding a pet. Given Ollie was a pretty good judge of character, Leo relaxed.

“Please.” Her voice was barely a whisper before she cleared it. “Please don’t call anyone. I just need—” She frowned as if uncertain of what she needed, but then she released his arm. However, instead of regripping the shears, she placed her trembling hand on Ollie’s determined head. Tears glimmered in her eyes. “Pretty dog.”

Ollie blinked over at Leo as if to verify his master had heard the compliment.

“Best dog around.” The only dog at the moment, Leo added silently. At least with Ollie his unexpected visitor seemed a bit more at ease. “Can you tell me what happened to you?” He reached a hand out to her face, determined to check how badly she’d been struck, but she flinched. “I won’t hurt you...” He waited for her to tell him her name.

Instead, all he got was a blank, brown, doe-eyed stare.

“All right...you can tell me later,” he murmured. “I’m Leo. Leo Slattery. You’re on my ranch.” He considered offering his hand, but didn’t want to pressure her. She wasn’t in any condition to be on her own, and one wrong move on his part would have her scurrying away. “Would you like to come inside? You can get cleaned up and something to eat. Something to drink. Coffee? Water?” Maybe once she was over the shock of whatever had happened to her, she’d be ready for him to call for help.

Leo glanced around for a bag, a cell phone, anything she might have that would help tell him who she was without him having to push for her to trust him. He didn’t see anything.

“W-water,” she choked out. “Water would be nice.”

Polite. Polished. Beautiful. Leo shook the last thought loose before it could grab hold. “Water I can do.” He inclined his head toward the door. “House is close by. Would you like me to show you?” Now he did reach out his hand. She stared at his hand for a long moment before slowly taking hold. He rose to his feet. She glanced down at the dog before rising. “Ollie can come, too. And you can bring those. If you want.”

She looked down at the shears still clutched in her other hand. An odd sound erupted from the back of her throat as she dropped them, covered her mouth and stared as if she didn’t understand why she had them.

It was all Leo could do not to sweep her into his arms, carry her inside and tend to her wounds. But he’d have to be blind not to see the physical signs of trauma were nothing compared to what was going on inside her head. What she needed most right now was to feel safe, to feel comfortable. To feel in control. Only then would he be able to help her.

He expected her to move away from him once they were outside, perhaps even race off and disappear into the sunrise. Instead, she curled her hand tighter around his and walked—or rather limped—beside him back to the house.

* * *

“I need to go get my horse back in his stall,” Leo told her as she sat at the kitchen table. In his grandmother’s chair. The thought brought a smile to his lips even as he wished Essie was here to help him. Help her. He poured the woman a glass of water and set it on the table. “I’ll be back in just a few minutes, all right? Ollie, stay.” He didn’t often command the dog, but Ollie moved in closer to the woman and bumped his nose against her leg.

The ghost of a smile played across her full lips as she returned to petting the dog.

“Okay. Just a few minutes.” Leo hurried back to the barn, found Duke exactly where he expected and led the now cranky horse back to his stall. “Gonna be a bit of a delay, I’m afraid.” Not to mention he’d have to head out later than he wanted to fix that downed fence on the eastern pasture. But he wasn’t about to leave the woman alone for long. At least not until he knew more about her. He certainly wasn’t going to just abandon her. His grandmother would have had a fit. “We’ll get you out and running later, Duke. Promise.”

The horse neighed.

Leo returned to the house and found his visitor sitting where he’d left her, her hand gently stroking Ollie’s back, her brown-eyed stare vacant and confused. But she’d drunk the water. That was good. “Okay, then.” He glanced at the phone on the wall. “I think maybe I should call the sheriff—”

“No!” She all but catapulted off the chair, stumbling forward to stop him from lifting the receiver. “No, please. No police. No hospital. I don’t want to see anyone. I’ll go. I’ll leave if you want. But I...” She pushed her hair away from her face and exposed the determination hovering behind the fear in her eyes. “Please. I don’t want anyone to know where I am.”

“All right.” Leo hadn’t been sure in the barn, but now he was. He recognized that barely restrained panic, that fright and flight response he’d grown up with. His father’s bouts of PTSD after returning home from Iraq had taught Leo early on that the mind was something that shouldn’t be played with. At least not before a modicum of trust had been established. “But I want you to tell me something. And I need you to tell me the truth. Can you do that?”

She nodded.

“Have you been raped?”

She blinked. “No.” She winced, inclined her head as if giving the question more thought. “No. Nothing hurts or feels odd there.”

“Okay, that’s good.” A breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding released. “If that’s the case, we’ll hold off on calling the authorities. For now. But how about your name?” He couldn’t stop himself. He reached out and caught her hair between his fingers, tucked it behind her ear so he could get a better look at the gash on her head. It had stopped bleeding at least. But it needed tending to. “Can you tell me who you are?”

“No.” There was that whisper again. Not quite as desperate, however. This time, tinged with a bit of anger. “I’ve been trying and trying, but I don’t know. I’m sorry.” She winced, then pressed a hand against the bridge of her nose. “All I have is this headache that won’t go away. There’s nothing else. Not in here.” She poked a not so gentle finger against her temple. “Why can’t I remember?”

“Okay, let’s not add to the damage.” He caught her hand and pressed it gently back to her side. “We’ll come back to that later. Sit back down. Let’s get you some more water.” He poured another glass and watched as she finished it. Ollie followed him to the sink and back, as if verifying what he was doing was for the best. Leo pulled a chair over so they were knee to knee. “Do you remember my name?”

“Leo. Your name is Leo. That’s Ollie.” She pointed to the dog.

“Nice that you didn’t get us confused.”

She smiled a little. “How can I not know who I am? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t know...anything.”

Shock. Trauma. And that bang on the head couldn’t have done much to help. “You will. You’ve had a shock. Something you aren’t able to process right now.” He held his hands out palm up, and after a moment she dropped hers into them. “How about for now I call you Jane?”

“Like Jane Doe?” She let out the most unladylike snort he’d ever heard. A sound that lightened his heart more than anything had in a long time. “That’s original.”

“My grandmother was the writer, not me.” Essie’s letters had been a continuous gift while he’d been working in Alaska. He still had them all bundled, no longer in his duffel, but on his dresser. “I didn’t get one ounce of her creativity. Is Jane okay?”

She shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”

“A rave review indeed,” Leo joked. “Are you hungry? I’ve got some eggs I can cook. And, um, some steaks. I bet you don’t eat steak much.” Given her slight figure, he’d bet she didn’t eat much of anything. A good summer breeze would probably blow her off the property.

“Eggs sound good. I can help.”

Leo glanced down at her ragged and broken nails, but given the high shine on that coral polish, he’d bet she’d had her share of manicures. “I’d prefer you didn’t. Not until we know what’s going on with that knock on your head. How about I run upstairs and see about finding you some clothes? Then you can take a shower and we’ll tend to that gash on your head. And your wrists.” He turned her hands over and tried not to wince at the angry welts, scrapes and cuts marring her skin. “I’m betting those feet of yours hurt a bit, too.”

“Not really.” She scrunched her toes into the wood floor. “They’re numb.”

He was afraid of that, but toward the end of summer she was less likely to end up with frostbite, something he’d become more than acquainted with up north. “All the more reason to get you into the shower. Sound okay?”

She chewed on her bottom lip and nodded. “Yes. Okay. Thank you, Leo.”

He led her to the bedroom closest to the kitchen, the small guest room his grandmother had always kept made up. It had its own small bathroom with an old-fashioned, claw-foot tub, pedestal sink and a corner shower stall he could never fit into. The bed was old, nothing fancy other than the simple wooden headboard, but serviceable and comfortable with its thick handmade quilt thrown over the double mattress. The added photographs of Leo and his family from various stages of the last twenty-seven years added to the homey feel. “Are you okay by yourself?”

“Yes.” Ah, now there was a genuine smile. One that sparked her previously dormant eyes as she looked up at him. “I’ll call if I need help.” She looked down at her ripped shirt. The frown was back. “Why can’t I remember what happened to me?”

“You will. Don’t push it,” Leo urged as he backed out of the room. “It’ll come, Jane. Whoever you are, whatever happened, you’ll remember. And we’ll deal with it together. Give me a few minutes to find you some clothes.”

He nearly stepped on Ollie when he turned to head upstairs. “Well, boy. Looks like we have company for a little bit. Hope that’s okay with you.”

Ollie chuffed as he circled Leo and sank to the floor, stretching across the doorway into Jane’s room.

“You let me know if she needs anything.”

Ollie blinked up at him and Leo sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

Today was definitely going to be one for the books.

Chapter 2

If only the water could wash away the fear.

Jane—she didn’t feel like a Jane—scooped warm water into her hands and pushed it over her tangled hair. She turned one side of her face into the spray of the shower, then the other, grimacing as the gash on her head protested. Looking down, she saw the water turn dark, tinged with blood as it cascaded off her body, swirling into the drain as if taking what had happened to her with it.

But something had happened. Something she couldn’t remember. She tucked her arms tight around her waist. Whatever did happen had robbed her of her memory, and now she had no inkling of who or what she was.

It crossed her mind to bang her skull against the white tile wall in the hopes of jarring something loose, but she didn’t want to alarm Leo or Ollie.

Leo.

Jane moved deeper into the spray and let the water pound over her ears. Finding the barn last night had seemed like heaven on earth. A solitary floodlight had blinked on as she’d approached from the cover of the trees and she’d stopped, frozen as if caught in a spotlight. But the flash of light had given her enough to see by so she could squeeze through the open door. The night hadn’t cooled off much, but she couldn’t stop shivering as she’d made her way into the back corner, digging and pushing her way through the hay until she’d collapsed.

Jane had lost track of the miles she’d walked. And had no clue of the direction she’d come from. If anyone were to ask her where she’d been held, she’d never be able to tell them, other than that it was near a road that led...somewhere.

When she fell asleep, she’d fallen hard and deep, and hadn’t awakened until she’d heard Ollie’s bark cutting through the peaceful silence.

“Jane.” A gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door. She jumped and nearly slipped. “I’ve left some clothes for you to wear on the bed, okay?”

“Yes.” She gripped her fingers against the tiles. Leo. It was just Leo. Leo Slattery, who, for whatever reason, didn’t evoke that sense of unrestrained fear she’d been harboring since she awoke in that shed.

Leo with the kind, dark, soulful eyes. The slightly unkempt, slightly curly hair that tempted her to reach out and brush her fingers through it. He was a beautiful man, probably more beautiful that he’d ever be comfortable with her thinking. But it was that gentle, understanding smile he’d offered upon seeing her that had soothed the bruises around her heart. That and the way he’d held her hand.

As if he’d protect her from whatever was out there. Whatever was to come.

And something was out there. Something was coming. She could...feel it.

Dark. Dangerous. Almost as if she were prey in a hunter’s sights. She shuddered. A hunter with an agenda she couldn’t begin to fathom. Why her? Why had this happened to her?

And what was she going to do about it? She couldn’t explain the abject terror that struck at the thought of calling the police, and going to the hospital would only result in the same. She didn’t know much at the moment, but she knew enough to trust her instincts and right now her instinct told her the only person she was safe with was Leo.

Beneath the warmth of the water, she shivered and focused on ridding herself of the last of the mud, dirt and blood. The soap and shampoo smelled of wildflowers and honeysuckle. For an instant, she flashed on the image of a luxurious spa reminiscent of... Jane frowned. France? Why on earth would she be reminded of France out here in the middle of—

She hadn’t even asked Leo where she was. Other than the obvious—that she was on a ranch in the rural countryside—she had no notion of her actual whereabouts. She turned her hands over, watched the water cascade over broken nails and scraped skin. Leo had looked at her hands. Had he seen what she saw? She chipped at the polish that remained before dragging her fingers through her hair.

A few minutes later, she stood in front of the small mirror above the sink, wrapped in a buttercup-yellow towel and dragging a fine-tooth comb through the knots and snarls in her hair. Staring at herself, tears blurred her eyes. The face was unknown. It was her, but not. She traced gentle fingers over the welt on her face. The ghostly image of a handprint marring her cheek had broken through; the raw scrape might very well scar. Taking a shuddering breath, she popped open the door a bit to let some air in to defog the mirror and found herself smiling when Ollie poked his nose inside.

“Are you watching out for me, boy?” The very sight of the canine made her feel better. As did the comforting cooking sounds emanating from the kitchen.

Ollie plopped his butt on the floor, wagged his tail and inclined his head.

“You and your master have the same intent, I see.” She peeked out into the bedroom and noticed the door was closed. “A gentleman, too.”

She’d washed her underwear and bra in the sink, left them to dry over the shower door. She wadded up what was left of her clothes to throw away in the trash. The soles of her feet felt more tender now that feeling had returned, and she found herself walking on the sides of her feet as the pain began to set in.

The sweatpants and button-down shirt would do for now. The garments were large and comfortable. She rolled up the cuffs on both the legs and sleeves before braiding her hair down her back. She held the tail of her hair in one hand and carried her ruined clothes and the clean socks back into the kitchen, where she found Leo standing in front of the stove stirring a mound of eggs.

“Two would have been enough,” Jane told him, and earned a sheepish smile tossed over one strong, firm shoulder.

“I thought I’d join you. I’ll get the toast going in a minute. Here.” He pulled the cast-iron pan off the stove and put a plate on top of it to keep the eggs warm. “Let’s get those cuts of yours tended to.”

“Do you have somewhere I can throw these?” She held out the silk top and linen pants. Regret she couldn’t quite relate to swept over her. “They must have been expensive.”

“They’re designer,” Leo said as he took them and glanced at the labels. “Which is why we’re going to keep them. When you’re ready to remember who you are, the labels might come in handy.”

When she was ready? “You make it sound like it’s my choice.” She watched him put the clothes in a paper bag and place it on a shelf on the back porch above the washing machine. A stack of rubber bands nearly obscured the doorknob of the pantry, and she snapped one off to secure her braid.

“Maybe it is.” Leo’s casual tone made it sound as if they were discussing the weather rather than her obviously severe case of...

Amnesia.

Jane groaned and dropped back into the chair she’d occupied earlier. “How can I know what amnesia is but not remember who I am? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does if your amnesia is somehow connected to who you are.” Leo retrieved a bright white metal box from the back porch and set it on the table. Before he returned, he poured them each a cup of coffee. “The brain is a complicated thing. I told you, don’t push it. You’ll remember what you’re meant to remember when you’re ready.”

“That sentence alone gives me a headache.” The pounding in her head wasn’t getting any better, but at least it wasn’t getting any worse. “I don’t even know where we are.”

“Colorado,” Leo told her. “Roaring Springs. Well, the farthest edge of it.” He arched a brow as if expecting the information to open a floodgate of memories. “Nothing?”

“Zippo.” The frustration began to eat at her. She just felt so...stupid! And it was not a feeling she liked. At all.

“How do you take your coffee?” He set a flowered mug in front of her.

“Cream. No sugar.” Her laugh sounded strained even to her own ears. “Would have probably taken a complete lobotomy to forget that.”

“Everyone knows how they take their coffee,” Leo teased. “Ollie, you’re becoming a pest. Go get in your bed.”

“He’s fine.” Jane pressed her hand into the dog’s neck. “I’m fine with him around.”

“Good to hear it. Now, drink some caffeine and brace yourself. This is probably going to sting.” He swabbed a large cotton ball with rubbing alcohol and pressed in against the long gash in her hairline.

She sucked in a breath, gritting her teeth as her eyes watered against the pain. “Oh, wow. Yeah.” But she didn’t pull away. It was something that had to be done. Besides, the comfort she felt with Ollie so close was nothing compared to how she felt around Leo Slattery. The man was...smoking hot. In more ways than one. She found herself transfixed by the muscles in his arm as he tended to her. He smelled amazing, too, like soap and wood with a hint of citrus that set her nose to tingling. She took a deep breath to steady herself, but that only set her head to spinning in a completely different way.

“Why don’t you scare me?” Given what must have happened to her, she should be terrified of everyone and yet...

He stopped, pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair. “What?”

Jane’s cheeks flamed. “Did I say that out loud? Oh, wow.” She pressed a hand against her face. “My brain must have been seriously bashed. That was—”