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“No. I don’t guess you could know me. I don’t even know myself,” she said quietly.
He was being a bastard. Even he knew it. But something about this young woman was different. She made him itch in all the wrong places, and he couldn’t afford to let himself get friendly with her.
Still, the crushed look on her face left him feeling like he’d been kicked in the gut. He didn’t want to hurt her. He just didn’t want her getting close.
“Look, Miss Carter, I—”
The massive door suddenly swung open and a short middle-aged Mexican woman peered across the threshold at the two of them.
“Good afternoon, Wyatt. I see you’ve brought our new guest.”
“Hello, Rosita. This is Gabrielle Carter. She’s just been released from the hospital. Maggie assured me you’d be expecting her.”
Except for one white streak at her temple, the plump woman had very dark hair that was pulled to the back of her head in a heavy bun. She had what looked to be a maid’s uniform on; so Gabrielle assumed she must be a housekeeper of some kind. She stepped up to Gabrielle and studied her with keen but kind eyes. “Yes. We’re expecting Ms. Carter,” she said to Wyatt, while continuing to regard her new houseguest. To Gabrielle she said, “I’m Rosita Perez. My daughter Maggie tells me you’ve lost any possessions you may have had, that everything was burned in the car. I’m very sorry to hear it.”
Gabrielle nodded down at the paper sack she was clutching in one hand. “All Sheriff Grayhawk found was my Bible. I think I’m just lucky to be alive.”
“I think you are lucky, too,” she said, then glanced at Wyatt. “I’ll show Gabrielle to her room. Did you want to see Ryan?”
Wyatt shook his head. “No. I won’t bother him now. I’ve got to get back to the office.” He glanced at Gabrielle, who looked even more pale and worn since he’d picked her up at the hospital. “I’ll be back later. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”
Gabrielle nodded that she understood, and extended her hand to him. “Thank you, Sheriff Grayhawk, for bringing me out here.”
He hesitated only for a second, then reached to clasp her hand in his. Her fingers were small and soft and cool against his warm palm, and for one wild second, he wanted to draw her to him, nestle her cheek against his chest and assure her everything was going to be all right.
But that was the last thing he could allow himself to do. Gabrielle Carter might not be entirely innocent. And even if she was, he couldn’t let himself care. He’d been hurt too many times to chance another slap in the face by a woman.
“You’re welcome, Miss Carter,” he murmured, then glanced at Rosita. “If you need me, call me. Otherwise, I’ll let you know what the VIN number turns up.”
Wyatt turned and left through the door they had just entered. The housekeeper said to Gabrielle, “Come along and I’ll show you where you’ll be staying. Then you might want lunch.”
“Thank you,” Gabrielle told her, then followed her ample figure out of the entryway and into a large great room.
Without a memory, she had no way of knowing what sort of house or apartment she’d been living in before the car accident. But something told her it hadn’t been anything like the Double Crown ranch house. One whole wall was dominated by an open rock hearth. The ceiling was high and supported by rough oak beams. The walls were stucco and decorated with numerous paintings and prints, most of which depicted scenes of the Old West. The floor was polished tile, and covered here and there with woven rugs in Mexican and Native American patterns.
Across the room, directly in front of them, a pair of curved, wooden-framed glass doors opened out to a courtyard. Like the front entrance to the house, it was beautifully landscaped with blooming sage, tall clumps of ornamental grass and climbing rosebushes.
“My daughter told us you have amnesia. She feels very guilty about the accident. She wishes she had never gone riding yesterday. I warned her not to go. The night before I had dreamed of a striking serpent.” The older woman shrugged and lifted her palms in helpless acquiescence. “I am her mother, but she paid me no more heed than anyone else around here.”
Gabrielle wondered if the older woman considered herself some sort of psychic. Frankly, she didn’t think she believed in such things. But if the housekeeper had truly dreamed of a striking snake, it would be an awfully eerie coincidence.
Gabrielle followed the woman into a large kitchen. Something spicy and delicious smelling was simmering on a large gas range. Gabrielle’s stomach gnawed hungrily—the dry oatmeal and cold toast at the hospital had been too horrible to eat, and last night’s fare hadn’t been much better.
“Maggie is my youngest. She’s married to Dallas Fortune,” Rosita said, clearly in an effort to strike up a safe conversation.
“Is this their house?”
The housekeeper chuckled as she motioned for Gabrielle to follow her down a hall off to the left of the kitchen.
“No. Dallas and Maggie live in another house on the ranch. It’s a whole lot like this one, just not as big. This is Ryan Fortune’s home. He’s the father of Matthew, Zane, Dallas, Vanessa and Victoria. But I don’t expect you know any of them.” She made a tsking sound of regret. “Pobrecita, you don’t even know yourself.”
“Maybe if I have a chance to see some of these people, I might remember something,” Gabrielle said hopefully. “I had to be headed to this ranch for some reason. Sheriff Grayhawk thinks I was up to no good. But I don’t believe that. I don’t feel like a bad person inside—and I think I would if I were really bad. Does that make sense, Mrs. Perez?”
The woman opened another heavy wooden door carved deeply with Spanish designs, and gestured for Gabrielle to cross the threshold before her. The room was massive with more stucco walls and heavy beams supporting the ceilings. On one end was a bed, dresser and chest all made of yellow pine. At the opposite end was a sitting area furnished with a large couch and stuffed armchair covered in tan leather. Like the great room and kitchen, the floor was also tiled; the scattered woven rugs filled the room with deep, rich colors.
With a wag of her finger, the housekeeper said, “No. No. I’m not Mrs. Perez. I’m Rosita. And I’ll call you Gabrielle, okay?”
At least Rosita wasn’t going to be like Sheriff Grayhawk, Gabrielle thought, but then no one could be like that man.
She smiled warmly at the woman. “Yes. I’d like that.”
“Good. And I wouldn’t worry about Wyatt Grayhawk. He thinks all women are up to no good.”
“Why is that?”
Rosita shrugged and tapped her finger against her chin in contemplation. “He’s a half-breed. His Indian blood is always at war with the white part of him. He’s never happy. But he’s a good man.”
Deciding she’d talked long enough, Rosita quickly headed out of the room. “Look around and make yourself comfortable,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll come after you in a few minutes when lunch is ready.”
After the housekeeper had closed the door behind her, Gabrielle wandered over to the king-size bed and trailed her finger over the coarse spread woven in a southwestern-style pattern. The rich turquoise, burgundy and copper colors were just the right contrast to the varnished pine and light-colored walls.
On the long dresser, there was a matching comb, hair-brush, and hand mirror, but nothing else. As Gabrielle glanced around her, she noticed there were no family photos anywhere in the room, so she assumed it was probably used only by guests on the ranch.
The sitting area was equipped with a small television, stereo and bookcase filled with several hardback and paperback selections. But at the moment she had no need for entertainment. Her thoughts were whirling with all that she’d seen and heard since she’d arrived, and her headache had increased to a steady pounding behind her eyes.
She found the bathroom, which to her surprise was fitted with a huge old claw-foot tub. At the end, a wooden bench was loaded with stoppered bottles filled with oils and salts and bath gels. The idea of filling the tub with warm water and bubbles and soaking for a long while was a tempting one, but Rosita had already warned her that lunch was nearly ready. Gabrielle would have to postpone the bath for now.
Back in the sitting area, she walked to the long windows overlooking the courtyard and discovered one of them was a door. She didn’t open it, but stood gazing out at the beauty of the gardens surrounding the massive house.
“Knock, knock! May I come in?”
Gabrielle turned at the familiar sound of Maggie’s voice to see the woman’s smiling face poking around the edge of the door.
“Of course! I was just waiting for your mother to call me for lunch.”
Maggie stepped into the room carrying two giant sacks with twine handles. The logo of a prominent department store was embossed on the glossy paper.
“She said we could take five minutes and then to come. So hurry and look at what you can,” Maggie told her.
“Look at what? What is all this?” Gabrielle asked.
Maggie lugged the two sacks over to the bed. When she dumped the contents, wrapped packages spilled over the mattress.
“It’s most everything you’ll need for a few days. We’ll go back and get the rest whenever you’re feeling stronger.”
Gabrielle’s hand lifted to her throat as she stared in stunned fascination at the pile of packages. “This is all for me? An extra pair of jeans and a top would have been plenty!”
Maggie’s smile was gentle. “We don’t know how long it will take for your memory to return. You’ll need several changes. And a woman has to have makeup and toiletries and lingerie.”
Gabrielle was still too overcome to move, so Maggie took the initiative and opened one of the boxes. “Look at this! I thought it was darling. See if it will fit, and you can wear it for lunch.” She thrust a pale blue flowered dress at Gabrielle.
“Oh, do you dress up for meals here?” she asked, then glanced down at her jeans and top. Wyatt’s implication that she more or less looked cheap was still a fresh wound. “I guess I do look pretty awful.”
“You don’t look anything of the sort. I just thought the dress would lift your spirits. Anyway, we hardly ever dress up for meals around here—everything is casual. Everyone is always so busy that no one knows who is going to show up. Unless there’s some sort of special occasion going on. But parties have been pretty few and far between here lately. Wyatt doesn’t think they’re a good idea.”
There was a dressing screen in a corner between a chest of drawers and the bed. Gabrielle went behind it and quickly began to shed her clothes. “Wyatt? You mean the sheriff?” she asked Maggie, wondering why he would have any say about this family’s social life. It didn’t make sense.
“Yes.”
Gabrielle tried to digest the response as she smoothed the long cotton shift down over her thighs. The dress was sleeveless with a scooped neck and slit up one calf. It fit as though it had been made for her.
“I know this will probably sound silly,” Gabrielle spoke up from behind the dressing screen, “but I don’t understand why the sheriff would care if you had parties.”
Maggie remained silent for a few moments, then she said, “Well, it just wouldn’t be safe. It would be inviting more trouble.”
Gabrielle stepped out from behind the screen, and Maggie smiled with approval at the dress.
“You were saying something about more trouble,” Gabrielle went on. “Are you talking about my car accident?”
The other woman quickly waved her hand. “Oh, no, Gabrielle. My nephew Bryan was kidnapped from this house nearly a year ago. So far the law officials haven’t been able to find him. And Wyatt is afraid the person or persons responsible for the act might try to strike again.”
Gabrielle was frozen by the woman’s disclosure. Wyatt had told her the Fortune family had been having some trouble, but she hadn’t expected it to be this serious or sinister! And he suspected her of being involved in some way! Dear God, the idea of stealing a baby from its own home was repulsive to her. She couldn’t have been involved, could she?
“Gabrielle, are you all right? You’ve gone so white.” Maggie rushed across the small space separating the two women and firmly gripped Gabrielle’s elbow. “Are you going to faint?”
Gabrielle shook her head and passed a hand over her face. “I—I’m fine. What you just said—it’s terrifying. No wonder Wyatt didn’t want me coming out here. For all he knows I might have been involved. I don’t even know myself,” she said desperately.
Maggie patted Gabrielle’s arm in an effort to soothe her. “I’m willing to bet you have nothing to do with baby Bryan’s disappearance. Or with baby Taylor’s arrival.”
Gabrielle’s face puckered with a bewildered frown. “Baby Taylor? You mean there’s something else going on about another baby?”
Maggie nodded. “The kidnappers demanded fifty-million dollars in ransom for the baby’s safe return. But my brother-in-law Devin, who’s an FBI agent foiled their attempt. The kidnappers escaped, but he did manage to get the money and the baby back. Or so everyone thought, until he got the baby home. We were all shocked when we saw the child wasn’t Bryan. None of us had ever seen this baby boy before. But stranger still, he’s turned out to be a Fortune.”
Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “But how could that be—if no one knew the child? Did one of the Fortune men have an affair that produced a baby no one was aware of?”
Maggie grimaced. “That’s what Bryan’s mother, my sister-in-law Claudia, is starting to think. Even though her husband, Matthew, swears he’s never been unfaithful. But the DNA tests prove he’s the child’s father.”
“So one baby is still missing and the other one is not yet identified? I can see now how my sudden appearance might cause suspicion.” She groaned with regret. “I just wish I could remember something—anything that might tell me why I was driving toward this ranch.”
“Don’t worry, Gabrielle. Wyatt is a good sheriff. He’ll sift through every possible clue to find your background.”
Gabrielle could certainly believe that. She got the impression he’d leave no stone unturned to put her behind bars, or, at the very least, out of the state of Texas.
What had she gotten herself into? Try as she might, she couldn’t see how she was going to get herself out of Texas—and away from Sheriff Wyatt Grayhawk.
Four
After being summoned to lunch, Gabrielle and Maggie walked down a hallway and entered a large kitchen. Gabrielle instantly noticed the flavor of the room was distinctly Tex-Mex. Bundles of dried, red chili peppers hung from the ceiling, which was lower in this room. The dishes and containers sitting on the cabinets and work island were made of heavy pottery painted in earth tones of brown, copper, sand, and the pink of rose rock. Along one wall was a row of windows, and beneath them were several large potted plants that appeared to be some sort of desert succulents.
She glanced at Maggie. “Well, I may not have done anything bad, but Wyatt Grayhawk has the impression I have,” Gabrielle continued their conversation.
Maggie sighed. “There’re a lot of things you don’t know about Wyatt Grayhawk.”
And I don’t want to know, Gabrielle thought, but kept the remark to herself as she and Maggie made their way into a large dining area.
Two men were already seated at a long oak table. Upon seeing the women they both stood, and the younger of the two came around the table to help them into their chairs.
Gabrielle tried to remember where she’d seen him before, then it dawned on her. “Aren’t you—”
“Yes. I’m the doctor who was with Wyatt yesterday at the hospital.” He extended his hand in greeting. “I’m Matthew Fortune.”
Gabrielle didn’t know what to think. Yesterday he’d never mentioned she’d wrecked her car on his family’s property or that he was connected in any way to the Fortunes.
Seeing the bewildered frown on her face, he went on. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself yesterday. But Wyatt had his reasons for wanting me not to.”
Wyatt. Did these people do everything the man told them to do?
“Yes. I’m sure he did have his reasons,” she murmured. Namely, that he’d been deliberately trying to catch her in the act of lying. Suddenly she couldn’t wait to see the man again. She was going to take great pleasure in telling him—sheriff or not—what she thought about his underhanded tactics.
“I’m Ryan Fortune, Miss Carter.”
She glanced up to see the older man had come around the table to greet her. He was about fifty or so, Gabrielle guessed, and was tall and solidly built. He was a handsome man, and though he was obviously rich, there was nothing arrogant about him.
Offering her hand, she said, “Thank you for having me in your home, sir. It’s very beautiful.”
“I’m very sorry about your accident, Gabrielle. My whole family and I are hoping you’ll be completely well very soon.” He smiled at her in a fatherly way, and Gabrielle suddenly didn’t feel so bad about being here on the Double Crown.
“I hope so, too, sir. And I promise I won’t take advantage of your hospitality. As soon as Sheriff Grayhawk finds my identity, I’ll be leaving.”
Ryan Fortune’s smile turned to one of compassion, and Gabrielle got the impression that he was a man who knew what it was like to face overwhelming trouble and endure the pain that went with it.
“Don’t be worried about making a hasty stay of it here at the ranch, Miss Carter. As you can see, we have plenty of room. And we want you to be truly well and on your feet before you leave.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“You’re very welcome,” he said with another indulgent smile, then returned to his seat at the head of the table.
Next to her Maggie said to Gabrielle, “See, I told you you shouldn’t feel bad about staying here. My father-in-law is very kind. And he has a wonderful fiancеe, Lily. You’ll like her very much.”
“Lily isn’t officially my fiancеe,” Ryan said with a proud chuckle. “Not until she puts the engagement ring on her finger. But I’m hoping that’s going to be very soon.” The older man glanced at his son. “And speaking of lovely brides, where’s Claudia? Isn’t she going to eat lunch with us?”
The young doctor grimaced. “No. She’s eating alone.”
Ryan frowned at his son. “It’s not often you get to be away from the hospital for lunch. Maybe if I go and talk with her—”
Matthew interrupted with a shake of his head. “No. Don’t bother. The sight of me upsets her right now. And I can hardly blame her.”
“But, son, you’re—”
