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The Sheriff and The Amnesiac
Ryanne Corey
WHO IS JENNY KYLE? Seems as if everybody in Bridal Veil Falls is asking that question. The feisty redhead with the high-powered motorcycle made quite an impression on the little Montana town - even before the accident that stole her memory. Sheriff Tyler Cook - a champion rodeo rider who'd walked away from a million-dollar career to become the law in his hometown - wants to know her story, too.But folks are starting to think his interest isn't purely professional. And the sparks flying between the sassy stranger and the rock-solid Western lawman have the town wondering if she'll be sticking around - even after she remembers who she is.
“You’re The One Who Has Amnesia,” Tyler Muttered. “Why Am I The One Who Can’t Seem To Remember His Own Name?”
Jenny smiled up at him. “Maybe my problem is contagious. Have you ever thought of that?”
“Maybe you’re contagious.”
“Poor Sheriff Cook. Saddled with contagious me. And I know how much you want to get rid of me.”
She stared at the cleft in his stubborn chin. Up to his lashes, which were indecently long for a man and curled at the tips. His lips were also in her line of vision, and she couldn’t help remembering what they had felt like on hers. Cowboy, she thought. Rugged, tough…sweet…
Without thinking, she kissed him again.
He stood frozen in the doorway, looking down at her with comical disbelief. “What was that for?”
She smiled innocently. “I have no idea. Maybe you’re contagious….”
Dear Reader,
Welcome to Silhouette Desire! This month we’ve created a brand-new lineup of passionate, powerful and provocative love stories just for you.
Begin your reading enjoyment with Ride the Thunder by Lindsay McKenna, the September MAN OF THE MONTH and the second book in this beloved author’s cross-line series, MORGAN’S MERCENARIES: ULTIMATE RESCUE. An amnesiac husband recovers his memory and returns to his wife and child in The Secret Baby Bond by Cindy Gerard, the ninth title in our compelling DYNASTIES: THE CONNELLYS continuity series.
Watch a feisty beauty fall for a wealthy lawman in The Sheriff & the Amnesiac by Ryanne Corey. Then meet the next generation of MacAllisters in Plain Jane MacAllister by Joan Elliott Pickart, the newest title in THE BABY BET: MACALLISTER’S GIFTS.
A night of passion leads to a marriage of convenience between a gutsy heiress and a macho rodeo cowboy in Expecting Brand’s Baby, by debut Desire author Emilie Rose. And in Katherine Garbera’s new title, The Tycoon’s Lady falls off the stage into his arms at a bachelorette auction, as part of our popular BRIDAL BID theme promotion.
Savor all six of these sensational new romances from Silhouette Desire today.
Enjoy!
Joan Marlow Golan
Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire
The Sheriff & the Amnesiac
Ryanne Corey
RYANNE COREY
is the award-winning author of over twenty romance novels. She is also the recipient of the Romantic Times Lifetime Achievement Award. She finds the peace and beauty of the mountains very conducive to writing, and currently lives in the beautiful Rocky Mountains of Utah. She has long believed in the healing power of love and laughter, and enjoys nothing more than bringing a smile to a reader’s face.
You can write to her at 520 C. North Main, Suite 321, Heber City, Utah, 84032.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
One
Jenny Kyle was getting a headache. This particular headache began with a capital “T,” as in trapped. Quite simply, she couldn’t stand being constrained in any way, shape or form. Especially when it wasn’t her fault.
At least she was an optimistic claustrophobic. As soon as she had everything sorted out with the strong arm of the law, she would leave this unfriendly town of Bridal Veil Falls—Bride Falls on Her Head was more like it, she thought wryly—in the dust. Her headache would be only a memory. One SOS call to good old Lawyer Dearbourne would solve everything. He knew she wasn’t a criminal, at least not a deliberate criminal. It was simply her poor luck that she’d lost her wallet, cash and credit cards. Although she had no doubt she would get a stern lecture when her attorney heard about Jenny’s spur-of-the-moment cross-country motorcycle trip.
“He’s here.” The waitress stuck her finger beneath Jenny’s nose and pointed out the window. “That’s the sheriff. You’re toast.”
Jenny turned her head, dark brown eyes widening as she watched a shiny black police car pulling up in the parking lot. Her headache kicked into high gear. Her palms began to sweat. The door swung open and a pair of dusty cowboy boots hit the ground. Jenny had hoped for a kindly soul, someone who would say, “Golly, shucks,” and have a good chuckle at all these misunderstandings.
Instead, she got the Gladiator of Bridal Veil Falls.
He stepped out into the fading sunlight, a full six-foot four inches of masculine intimidation wrapped up in a slim-fitting beige police uniform. His shoulders went on forever, his hips were narrow, his stomach tight and flat. She couldn’t see much of his face; he wore a cowboy hat pulled low over his forehead. He also wore dark glasses. Jenny had never seen a jaw so square or a chin so intimidating. And those straight lips could have been chiseled from marble.
Jenny dropped her head into her arms on the table. “This is not my day.”
The front door opened and closed. Jenny heard slow, measured steps growing louder and louder…until they stopped right in front of her. She couldn’t bring herself to look up.
“Is this the one?”
His deep voice had a no-nonsense tone. There wasn’t a trace of a friendly country accent. Jenny’s optimism shriveled up like a grape in the sun. She wondered how old she would be before she got out of jail.
The waitress started spilling the whole story from the beginning. She concluded with a disdainful, “Funny thing, sheriff, how she didn’t notice her wallet was gone until after she ate enough food for ten people.”
“I resent that.” Jenny looked up, glaring at the waitress. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the sheriff quite yet. “I ate a well-balanced meal. You try hanging on to a runaway motorcycle for eight hours and see how hungry you get.”
Came the unsympathetic voice of the sheriff: “So that Harley outside is yours?”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet the sheriff’s sunglasses squarely. “Maybe. At this point, I’m taking the Fifth on everything.”
For a long, uncomfortable moment, he didn’t say anything. At this close range, Jenny could see the manly dent in his manly chin. His slanted cheekbones were perfectly molded, his nose perfectly straight, his posture everything a Marine Corps recruiting poster could ask for. It must be true, she thought glumly, what everyone said about the healthful benefits of fresh country air.
The Gladiator pursed his lips and whistled softly. “What do you know? It’s you.”
Jenny frowned at him, wondering what he was trying to trick her into admitting. “No, it’s not. I don’t know what or who you’re talking about, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just an innocent traveler who happened to lose her wallet. Believe me, I would have taken a detour if I’d known you people in Bride Falls on Her Head were so paranoid and unfriendly.”
“Bridal Veil Falls,” he corrected, a faint smile curling his lips. “You know, the minute I saw your red hair, I knew I was looking at trouble.”
Jenny glared at him, then slid out from the booth, brushing tortilla crumbs off her jeans as she stood up. It was time she adopted a defensive attitude. She felt at a distinct disadvantage sitting. Still, at five foot two she didn’t gain much height. If he put his arm out straight, it would go right over her curly head. “Let’s talk about trouble. I was hungry, so I decided to stop and get something to eat. Before I know it, I’m being accused of all kinds of things I didn’t do. At least, I didn’t do them intentionally. I’m not some career criminal who travels from town to town on her motorcycle ripping off Mexican restaurants—” she threw the waitress a dark look “—despite what she seems to think. And I’ll tell you something else.”
“Oh, boy,” the sheriff drawled. “She’s not done yet.”
“This town has trouble written all over it. Everyone here is hostile.” She paused, then added grudgingly, “Well, that’s not true. That sweet white-haired lady crocheting in the corner booth has been very friendly. She keeps smiling at me. I like her, but otherwise, I can’t wait until I see the last of this place.”
Obviously listening to their conversation, the white-haired lady waved her crocheting needles at the sheriff. “Hello there. You’re looking very handsome in your new hat.”
“Always the sweet-talker, Ella,” the sheriff called out. Then he exchanged a speaking look with the waitress. “You didn’t tell me my grandmother was in here today, Sunny. That kind of puts a new light on things, if you know what I mean.”
“Sunny?” Jenny blurted out incredulously. “Her name is Sunny? She is the least friendly waitress I’ve met in my life. And that lovely lady is your grandmother? How weird is that?”
The sheriff took off his sunglasses, swinging them in slow circles from his finger. The blue-eyed gaze he leveled at Jenny was heavy-lidded, thoughtful and penetrating. He had Baryshnikov eyes, luminous and startling against the smooth, golden-brown tint of his skin. Far more beautiful than she had expected. And much more human.
“Her name is Sunny,” he told her conversationally, “and that lovely lady is indeed my grandmother. My name is Sheriff Cook, but you can call me Tyler. You see? We’re actually a very friendly town, so you don’t have anything to worry about. Now do me a favor and be quiet for a minute. If you’re capable of it. Sunny, how long has Ella been here?”
“Well…most of the afternoon,” Sunny replied, looking uncertain. “I never thought about…well, Dr. Wetzel told me she was doing better. Said she took up crocheting instead.”
The sheriff ignored her, continuing his conversation with Sunny. “Something tells me Ella has had a little relapse. She looks too happy.”
Jenny slapped her forehead with her hand. “What is going on here? Am I going crazy? Or is everyone in this town crazy except me? Why won’t you let me go outside and look for my wallet? What does that nice little lady have to do with anything?”
The sheriff looked sideways at her. “Don’t you ever do anything you’re told? I said to be quiet.”
“I don’t have to be quiet,” Jenny said. “I’m in deep trouble, anyway. What are you going to do, arrest me for using up too much of your oxygen?”
He tipped his hat back on his head, revealing a tangled fringe of honey-colored hair. “You have a really bad attitude. I know your middle name is Trouble. You mind telling me your first and last?”
“Jenny Kyle.” She held his gaze, one golden brow arching defiantly. “Jenny Maria Kyle.”
“You have the right to remain silent, Jenny Trouble Kyle.” He folded his sunglasses and slipped them into his breast pocket. “Take advantage of that right, while I go and have a little talk with Ella.”
Jenny immediately bristled. “That nice woman has done absolutely nothing to…mummph.”
The sheriff was pressing his fingers firmly against Jenny’s lips. “The right to remain silent.”
Jenny’s eyes narrowed dangerously. From the tip of her head down to her toes, her entire body stiffened beneath his touch. Sunny giggled, finding the whole thing immensely entertaining.
“That’s a good girl,” Tyler said. He removed his fingers slowly, by inches, as if prepared to silence her again should she dare open her mouth. “Now, sit.”
“I feel like standing.” The words came out in a rush, before he could react.
It should have made him angry. She had intended to make him angry. Instead his lips crooked in a smile that might have been boyishly beguiling under different circumstances. “Trouble,” he said softly, then walked away.
Jenny had no idea what he said to the poor, dear lady in the corner booth. They spoke too softly to overhear, no matter how hard she strained. She couldn’t even see the woman’s expression, since the sheriff’s broad-shouldered back blocked her view. Jenny could only wait and wonder, her teeth working nervously at her lower lip.
When he returned to her, however, her chin was high and her unsteady fingers were hidden in the pockets of her jeans. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could shake her. She’d done nothing wrong, and she wasn’t about to act as if she had.
But she might have been invisible for all the notice he paid her. He pulled Sunny aside and whispered something to her, nodding his head in Ella’s direction. Sunny listened intently, then hurried to the telephone and made a call.
“I don’t suppose you would like to explain to me what that was all about?” Jenny asked. “Wait a minute. I know! You’re going to arrest that wonderful little woman for being too friendly. I’m sure that’s a felony around here.”
For a long moment Tyler didn’t answer. He simply examined her leisurely, his head tipped to one side. “You know, you really have a problem with authority figures. I think a few years in the big house is going to do you a world of good.”
She gave him her wide-eyed, vulnerable look. “A few years? The big house? What is this, a James Cagney movie?”
“And I don’t see any sign of remorse for your crimes, either,” he went on thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look good for you, Trouble.”
“Give me a break! I lost my stupid wallet, for Pete’s sake!”
“Like I said, a real bad attitude.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Judge Curry doesn’t like anyone with attitude. He doesn’t care much for anyone who rides motorcycles, either. Last Fourth of July a motorcycle gang came tearing through town, right in the middle of the Independence Day Parade. Flattened two flashing barricades and ran over Judge Curry’s bulldog. He had him all dressed up for the occasion, too, with a red, white and blue collar and a little stovepipe hat. It was a real heartbreaker, I’ll tell you.”
Now Jenny sat down, groaning as her head dropped against the back of the booth. “Wonderful. Just shoot me, would you? Shoot me and put me out of my misery.”
“Of course, the judge does have a soft spot for women,” he went on. “You could very well get out in a year or so on good behavior. You know any karate?”
She stared at him. “What?”
“Karate. You know, kickboxing and punching and things like that. Believe it or not, the women’s correctional facility is a lot harder on the inmates than the men’s. You’d be wise to brush up on your self-defense.”
“Do you honestly think I’m buying this?”
He grinned, pushing his hat back another inch. “I don’t really care if you believe it or not. Any family or friends you want me to call before I toss you in the slammer?”
The look she gave him was strangely blank. “What?”
“You’re entitled to a phone call. Would you like to call your poor husband, God bless him?”
“You have such a delightful sense of humor,” she muttered. “If I had a husband, which I don’t, I’d be an idiot to use my one call on him instead of my lawyer.”
“Suit yourself. Oh, I have something for you. With all the excitement of apprehending a dangerous criminal, I almost forgot.” He pulled something out of his back pocket and tossed it on the table. “Look familiar?”
Jenny stared at her green wallet. Her jaw dropped like a stone. “Where did you get that?”
“Actually, Ella just gave it to me. She said to tell you that you have beautiful hair and she hopes she didn’t cause you any trouble. She has a little problem with taking things that aren’t hers. Ella’s an angel, but she’s a couple of beers short of a six-pack, if you know what I mean.”
Jenny felt like someone had put her backward on an upside-down merry-go-round. She stared at sweet little Ella, who was suddenly deeply absorbed in her crocheting. Then she turned her stormy gaze back to the devil disguised as a lawman. She slammed her fists on the table so hard, her wallet jumped two inches with pure terror. “I don’t believe this! You knew all along, didn’t you? You conned me! You knew Ella had stolen my wallet, and you deliberately let me think—”
