Sheriff Braeburn decided it was time that Doc learned the true identity of the lady staying with Matt. He made his explanation brief but as accurate as he knew it.
Doc was predictably surprised, but his primary concern was for Hope. “Has the Stockwell family been informed of her amnesia?”
“I talked to Rafe myself,” Cliff replied.
“And Rafe agreed to leave her here?”
“For the time being, yes. According to Matt, Doc, she remembers nothing about herself or anyone else. That’s why he hasn’t told her who she really is or anything about her relatives. He doesn’t want to bog her down with information she probably can’t assimilate. And we’ve all got to realize that however big and powerful the Stockwells are in Texas, they’re strangers to Hope and she’s especially afraid of strangers. So, please don’t say anything about…well, anything, when you examine her.”
“I won’t, because you’re right. In Hope’s condition, everyone’s a stranger,” Doc murmured.
“Everyone except Matt.”
Doc frowned slightly. “Which makes her extremely dependent on him.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Not as long as Matt is willing to be there for her. Is he? Has he mentioned that aspect of the situation?”
Cliff shook his head. “No, we haven’t discussed anything like that. What if he’s not? Doc, you know Matt as well as I do. Since Trisha’s death he’s hardly left this ranch. He can’t be very thrilled with having an ill woman on his hands.”
“From what Matt told me, she’s not ill, Cliff. Amnesia can affect a person physically if it’s caused from actual damage to the brain. Of course, I can’t make an accurate diagnosis until I examine Hope, but it’s my impression at this point that her only medical problem is memory loss. Which can be serious, don’t misunderstand. In most cases, however, amnesia is a temporary condition.” Doc walked to a window and looked out. “What do you suppose is keeping them?”
“Couldn’t say, but Hope going out for long walks seems like a good sign to me.”
“If she’s deathly afraid of strangers, Cliff, then she shouldn’t wander too far from the house.”
“I doubt there are very many strangers out here, Doc.”
“It doesn’t take ‘very many’ when a woman is already scared out of her wits,” Doc said dryly. “One’s enough.” He cocked his head to listen. “Sounds like Matt and Hope are coming in now.”
About an hour later the three men were seated in Matt’s office. Doc was doing the talking. “Without sophisticated equipment and testing, which I doubt is needed, my opinion is that Hope is physically sound. The cut on her head has healed nicely and her vital signs are those of a healthy young woman. I checked her reflexes and found no retardation of response. She is living with fear, however, which we already knew and is to be expected in any amnesiac. But Hope’s fear is such a large and deeply established part of her that I suspect she will not be separated from it until she regains her memory.”
Matt and Cliff exchanged glances. After a few moments of ponderous thought, Matt said, “She’s afraid of a red-haired man, Doc.”
“She said that?”
“At first she had terrifying nightmares, but gradually she realized that she was doing more remembering than dreaming.”
“Then she has experienced segments of memory? She didn’t tell me that.” Doc sat silently thinking, then said quietly, “She obviously underwent some sort of emotionally traumatic experience before you found her.”
“And it was caused by a guy with red hair,” Matt said grimly. “Doc, everyone involved has agreed to keep Hope’s whereabouts a secret, and I’m asking you to do the same. We all believe she was kidnapped and somehow escaped her captor. I don’t know how she ended up here, but she has memories of running in the dark, through the rain, and she believes with all her heart that the red-haired man was behind her, chasing her. That might be true, it might not, but I’m not willing to risk her safety by announcing to one and all where she’s staying.”
Matt sat back in his chair. “Besides, I’m the only person she feels safe with.”
Doc met Matt’s gaze. “I know that. In fact, Hope told me just how welcome you’ve made her feel. It appears that with nothing more than instinct to assist you, you did everything right for a woman with a problem that can baffle physicians, even in this day and age. What you must understand, however, is how dependent upon you she is now. After talking to her, I’m quite certain that she is thoroughly convinced that she could not exist without you. She was almost fiercely adamant against anyone trying to force her to leave here, Matt, but no one would blame you for worrying about the enormous responsibility Hope represents. Along with the state of her mental health—even though you’ve done a fine job dealing with that so far—if she really was kidnapped and you think there’s a chance the thug might try again, is she really safe here? Cliff, how do you feel about that?”
“Well, during the storm my deputies had their hands full, but if you’d like some extra manpower out here, Matt, I could spare a couple of men for a while.”
Matt’s stomach had begun tying itself into knots when Doc started talking about how welcome he’d made Hope feel. Could he even be considered a decent man after what he’d done? No, he hadn’t forced Hope into anything. But the word dependent kept going around and around in his brain and it hit him that Hope probably believed he could do no wrong. Why wouldn’t she make love with the only person she knew in the whole damn world? The man upon whom she was totally and completely dependent?
He cleared his clogged throat. He was ashamed of his behavior and grateful that Hope hadn’t told Doc everything that had been going on between them. No more, he vowed ardently, and then remembered that he’d already taken the same oath several times, for all the good it had done. This time I mean it, dammit, I really mean it!
Strangely, belying the inner turmoil he was suffering, he sounded quite normal when he answered Cliff. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Between Chuck, the other men and myself, we’ll make sure Hope is well protected.”
He got away from that subject as quickly as he could, turned his attention to Doc again and said the first thing that popped into his mind. “I guess my main concern right now is the way I’ve been keeping things from Hope. Do you think I should tell her what I know about her? I still have that first newspaper article, and if I gave that to her to read—”
Doc held up his hand. “Matt, just do whatever it is you’ve been doing. I like that old axiom. If it isn’t broken, then don’t fix it. My advice is to not change a thing, at least not yet. Hope is healthy but jumpy, and I frankly don’t know how she would take so much information at this time.”
Cliff spoke up. “That’s well and good, Doc, but Rafe knows we were coming here to check on Hope today, and he’s going to want to hear all about it. I’m going to have to make a pretty thorough report of today’s visit, and is it your feeling that what’s best for Hope might be in opposition to her family’s wishes? One thing Rafe mentioned was that his sister Kate was champing at the bit to see Hope with her own eyes. He also said something about the family sending a head trauma specialist out here to examine Hope.”
“I can’t fault the Stockwells for worrying about her, and maybe a specialist should be brought in,” Doc said solemnly. “What I’d like to do is to write a paragraph or so about Hope for you to include in your report, Cliff. Would that be too out of line for you to consider?”
“Not at all. You’re a doctor and you examined her. I would think Rafe and the others would appreciate receiving your opinion.”
“Actually, it’s going to be a recommendation for them to leave Hope here a while longer. She’s obviously starting to remember, and I firmly believe that taking her away from this environment, the only one with which she’s familiar, could cause dire consequences.”
Matt listened to the discussion between his friends and felt like a horse’s ass. Doc thought he’d done a great job with Hope with nothing but instinct to guide him, and Cliff thought he was a courageous soul who would protect her with his life.
Well, he might do that—protect her with his own life—but he sure was a jerk in every other way!
But you’ve fallen in love, man. How could you not touch her? Matt gulped so loud that Doc’s eyes flicked his way for a second.
Fallen in love? Have I suddenly gone nuts? His heart started pounding so hard it felt like it was making his shirt bounce. I am not in love…I’m not! His palms got sweaty, and he wiped them on the legs of his jeans.
“Matt, are you okay? You look a little clammy,” Doc said.
“It’s just warm in here. Doesn’t it feel warm to you two?”
“Can’t say it does,” Doc said.
“Not to me,” Cliff said.
“Okay, forget it. Probably just having a hot flash.” Everyone laughed and Matt quickly steered the conversation away from him and his peculiar—to Doc and Cliff—pallor. “Cliff, when you told Rafe about Hope being here with me, what’d he say?”
“Well, he asked if I knew you, and I told him you were a hardworking rancher and a decent sort. When I vouched for you, he relaxed. Rafe’s all right, you know. I’ve worked with him on a couple of different occasions, and he’s a good lawman and a straight-up guy.”
Cliff looked at Doc. “Anything else you need around here, Doc? I should be getting back to town.”
Doc got to his feet. “So should I. My waiting room is probably overflowing with impatient patients.” He offered his hand across the desk to Matt, who also had gotten up. “Matt, call me if anything changes. Thanks for your time and hospitality.”
After further goodbyes out in the yard, Matt watched the two men climb into the sheriff’s car and drive off. Sick at heart and plagued by guilt and a genuine dread that the things he’d been thinking a few minutes ago might actually be true, Matt returned to the house.
Hope was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of her. “Have they gone?”
“Just now.”
“They stayed quite a while. Did…the sheriff tell you anything about me?”
“Like what?” Matt went to the counter and poured himself a cup of coffee.
“Like what? Like anything. Did he talk about me?”
Matt took a sip from his cup. “We all did.”
“You all talked about me? What did Doc have to say?”
“He believes you’re going to make a full recovery.”
“That’s what he told me, too. What about the sheriff? What did he say about me?”
A brilliant idea occurred to Matt. “He thinks you should go back to Massachusetts and be with your mother.”
Hope gasped right out loud. “And what did you say to that?”
“Hope, she’s your mother. What do you think she’s going to do when you meet again, beat you over the head, mentally abuse you?”
Hope looked at him and tears started dribbling down her cheeks. “Would you really let the sheriff send me to a stranger in Massachusetts?”
Matt gave up. Setting his cup on the counter, he went through the kitchen door to the outside again. He took a big breath of air and was almost feeling better when he happened to glance at the second story of the barn. Making love with Hope in that pile of hay had been the most beautiful, fantastic sexual experience of his life.
He thinned his lips and walked off cursing under his breath. Every time with Hope was beautiful and fantastic. Was that fact finally sinking in?
Now what’ll I do?
That evening Matt received a phone call from Sheriff Braeburn. “I wrote a full report…including Doc’s professional opinion…and faxed the whole thing to Rafe Stockwell. He phoned a few minutes ago. Apparently he passed the report around the family, and his sister, Kate, is determined to see Hope no matter what he or anyone else thinks about it. You’ll be seeing her day after tomorrow.”
“Is she coming alone? You mentioned a trauma specialist when you were here today.”
“I don’t know about that, Matt. Rafe didn’t say, but I think Hope should be told about it before Kate shows up.”
“I agree. Thanks, Cliff, I’m not sure just how to break the news to Hope, but I’ll figure something out.”
Figuring it out wasn’t easy, not when Hope had already shut herself in her room for the night and Matt was actually afraid of knocking on her door and possibly stepping foot in her bedroom. He and Hope couldn’t seem to have a normal discussion about even the most impersonal of topics. On the other hand, he thought wryly, had they ever attempted an impersonal conversation? The very air around them seemed to vibrate when they were together, and now, dammit, he couldn’t get rid of that ridiculous love notion that kept gnawing at his vitals.
“To hell with it!” he growled. Deciding to tell her in the morning, Matt retired early himself.
But then he lay in his bed and thought of Hope lying in hers, and he worried about the possibility of his having fallen in love, and that maybe Hope thought she was in love with him, as well. Actually, wasn’t Kate’s determination to see her sister a good thing? Maybe Kate’s presence would jar Hope’s memory, Hope would experience instant recall and the two sisters would happily vanish with the sunset.
“Yeah, tell yourself another one,” Matt mumbled disgustedly.
The sheriff paying her a visit kept bothering Hope. Doc was a darling and he’d been courteous, professional and sometimes funny during his examination. She had found herself relaxing with Doc, even laughing a few times. Doc, she liked. Sheriff Braeburn worried her. Did a lawman have the authority to whisk a grown woman from Texas to Massachusetts against her will? Had Matt—behind her back—encouraged Braeburn to do exactly that?
Walking the floor the next day hours after Matt had left the house, Hope tried to figure out Matt’s hot and cold attitudes toward her. One minute he was distant and guarded, and the next he was so hot to make love it was a wonder steam didn’t pour out of his ears.
“Oh, don’t get so melodramatic,” she told herself. But exaggerated though her thoughts might be, they were rooted in fact. Matt was changeable. He did run hot and cold where she was concerned. How could she doubt the disruption of routine she’d caused him, or the probability of his wishing that she hadn’t brought her troubles to his doorstep? According to what Chuck had told her, Matt had enough problems of his own to deal with; he certainly didn’t need hers.
So, yes, it was indeed possible that he’d encouraged Sheriff Braeburn to send her to Massachusetts. It had been so uppermost in Matt’s mind yesterday that he’d come right out and told her what the sheriff had suggested, after all. And don’t forget that Matt never gave you an answer when you asked him if he would let the sheriff send you to a stranger. His silence was darned meaningful, which you would have admitted before this if you weren’t so head over heels for him!
Wiping away a tear, Hope began gathering the ingredients to make cookies. Or trying to. The cupboards were getting bare. She’d done so much cooking and baking that the flour was almost gone and so were the vegetables and meat. In fact, how on earth would she put together this evening’s meal with so little to draw upon?
She was still pondering the products she did have and what she might be able to do with them when the back door opened and Matt came in.
“Hello,” he said coolly.
She answered in kind, a cool, snappish sort of hello. But she had to say more. If she didn’t the men were going to have a very sparse supper. “There’s nothing left to cook.”
“What?” Matt was so engrossed in what he’d come in to tell her that what she’d said didn’t immediately sink in.
“I said there’s nothing left to cook, or very little. Someone has to do some grocery shopping.”
“There’s food at the bunkhouse,” Matt growled.
“Not anymore.”
Matt cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’ve used all that food?”
His accusing attitude angered Hope. “Ate every bite of it by myself,” she said with scathing sarcasm.
Matt flushed. “Hope, I didn’t mean—”
“You insinuated that I wasted your precious food! I cooked it and you and your men ate it!”
“You don’t have to yell. I’m not deaf.”
“I wasn’t yelling. This is yelling!”
“Hope, calm down. You’re upset over nothing. Make a grocery list and I’ll drive to Hawthorne and fill it myself.”
“Fine! It will only take me a few minutes, so please wait for it.” She sat at the table and began writing her list.
The knot in Matt’s stomach was getting painful. He had to tell her about Kate’s visit tomorrow; he’d come to the house to get it over with and then got sidetracked over a grocery list. He seemed to have very little control over the events of his life anymore, and he didn’t like the feeling.
He pulled out a chair and sat at the table. “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Hope’s heart skipped a beat. He was sending her back to Massachusetts! The sheriff was going to return for her!
She laid the pen on the pad and spoke in clipped syllables that announced her fury more than any amount of shrieking would have, “I am not going to Massachusetts.”
Matt’s perplexed frown was so severe that his forehead looked like a road map. “What in hell are you talking about now?”
“You and the sheriff are not sending me to Massachusetts!”
“Who said we were?”
“You did. Yesterday.”
Matt remembered what he’d said to her on that subject and groaned. “How can a woman with the memory of an elephant contract amnesia? Hope, I lied yesterday.”
She stared. “You lied?”
“Cliff never even hinted that you should go back to Massachusetts. How could he? He doesn’t have the authority to send you anywhere. That’s up to your family, and speaking of family, your sister, Kate, is coming here tomorrow to see you.”
“My sister Kate? I don’t have a sister! I only have a mother!”
“You have a large family, Hope. Three bothers and a sister.”
She covered her ears with her hands and whimpered, “Stop…stop! I can’t bear to hear anymore.”
Rising, Matt walked around the table, took her hands in his own and gently pulled her to her feet. Holding her against his chest, he said, “I know this is hard for you, but you have to face it, Hope. Hiding your head in the sand isn’t going to make the world beyond this ranch disappear. Your family is justifiably worried about you, and your sister, Kate, is going to come out here tomorrow to see that you’re alive and well with her own eyes. She knows you have amnesia, so I’m sure she isn’t expecting some gala welcome from you. But she loves you, Hope, and you have to meet her.”
Hope sobbed quietly into his shirt. “Hope,” he said softly, “look at me.” He took her chin and tipped up her face. Her tear-streaked face and terrified eyes reached deep inside him and wrung him out. “I’m sorry,” he said, and brought her head to his chest again. “I’m so damned sorry about so many things.”
“Don’t be,” she whispered raggedly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Hope, things are beginning to happen for you. You’re going to be your old self very soon now, and when you are, you’re going to put all of this behind you and probably run like hell.”
She stiffened. “All of what? You? Everything you’ve done for me? No, Matt, I won’t be running like hell from anything I’ve found here.”
“Well, neither of us really knows what you’ll do, do we? So let’s not take sides and argue about it, okay?” He let go of her to get a box of tissue from the counter. “Now, dry your eyes and finish that grocery list.”
They sat down again. Hope’s hand shook when she picked up the pen. A sister…coming here tomorrow! What will she say, how will she look? What will I do? How will I look?
“Matt, I hate asking for another favor, but could I write on this list a few things that just might lift my morale tomorrow?”
“Write down anything you need. I’ll do my best to find it.”
“It’s just a few cosmetics…things that weren’t in my purse.”
Looking at her in her secondhand clothes, Matt got very emotional. Hope should have something new and pretty to wear tomorrow. He couldn’t afford such generosity, but what the hell? He really couldn’t afford the groceries on that list, either.
Finishing the list accomplished one positive thing for Hope; it took enough time that her terror diminished and her system calmed some.
“When all this began I asked if you knew any LeClaires,” she said, startling Matt because she had seemed so intent on her list. “You said no.”
Matt didn’t know how to respond. Doc felt that Hope shouldn’t be overloaded with information, and yet Kate Stockwell was coming to see her tomorrow.
“Did you lie about that, too?” Hope asked quietly. “Do you know my sister and brothers?”
“No, I’ve never met any of them.” She’s assuming Kate and her brothers are LeClaires!
“But you had heard of them?”
“I didn’t lie, Hope. I’d never heard the name LeClaire until we read it on the items in your wallet.”
“I see. In that case you knew nothing about my sister and brothers until yesterday. Apparently the sheriff told you about them.”
Matt decided to exit this discussion before he found himself trapped in a corner. He rose and said as casually as he could manage, “The sheriff has met at least one of your brothers. Is that list finished?”
“Yes.” Hope slid it across the table toward him.
Matt picked it up and without looking at it, folded it and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “I’ll be gone for at least two hours. Stay inside.”
Hope heaved a sigh of utter hopelessness. Did no one give a damn what she wanted? Her circle of acquaintances was growing without her permission or blessing, and after tomorrow a woman named Kate would be part of it, a woman who was supposedly her sister. Next, of course, would be the men claiming to be her brothers. Eventually she would have to meet Madelyn LeClaire, and how many other people were going to pop up, claim to be a relative and intrude on her safe harbor out here?
What hurt the worst was Matt’s cooperation. She would have liked to keep everything exactly as it was during her and Matt’s best moments together, and it didn’t seem to bother him in the least that the world was gradually encroaching on their relationship, her life and his ranch.
Her disappointment was almost more than she could stand, and she went to her bedroom, lay on the bed and pulled a sheet over her head.
She would not think of any of it again today.
Outside, Matt was talking to Chuck. “I won’t be a minute longer than I have to be. The house is locked, but stay close and keep an eye on it. If Hope should take a notion to come outdoors, talk her into going back inside. If you catch sight of anyone you don’t recognize immediately, call the sheriff and guard Hope from inside the house. And when the men get back from moving those cattle, have them patrol the perimeter if you think it’s necessary, although in all likelihood, I’ll be back before they will. I’m leaving Hope in your hands, Chuck. Take care.”
“You can count on me, Matt.”
“I know I can. Catch you later.” Matt climbed into his pickup and drove away with a tight crease between his eyes. He could have sent Chuck to town, but then he’d be alone again with Hope, and he didn’t trust himself with her. Look what had happened yesterday in the barn, and he’d gone looking for her with only the best of intentions.
Gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, Matt kept an eye peeled for anything out of the ordinary all the way to Hawthorne.
He drove directly to the town’s only women’s dress shop, parked the truck and went in. A lady with a pleasant smile approached him.
“Hello, Matt. Can I help you with something?”
“I’m looking for a gift for a…a friend. A dress, I think. Something in light blue. Size eight.” That was the size of Trisha’s things, and they seemed to fit Hope well enough.
Thirty minutes later he left with several packages. Next stop was his favorite grocery store, Cutler’s Food Mart. It wasn’t the biggest food store in Hawthorne, but Matt had done business with Bud Cutler for too many years to desert him when a large chain opened a supermarket.
But when he walked in Matt saw that Bud wasn’t behind the counter today, which meant that he’d have to deal with his clerk, Harriet Meadows, who was also Hawthorne’s most dedicated busybody. He said hello to Harriet, who gave him her usual suspicious look because she was one of the folks who still blamed him for Trisha’s death, regardless of proof to the contrary, then took a basket and quickly began filling it. He paid no attention to other shoppers. He wanted to get back to the ranch as soon as possible, and he wasn’t interested in making small talk with anyone, which could be the case if he ran into a friend.
He filled the basket in ten minutes and pushed it up to the counter. He didn’t even notice the man in the baseball cap skulking around the magazine rack not five feet away. Harriet began ringing up the charges, and when she came to the feminine body lotion, scented shampoo and peachy-pink lipstick Matt was buying, she gave him a knowing look and said, “Well, isn’t this a surprise? A bachelor buying cosmetics does raise one’s curiosity, Matt. Now, which of the fair ladies of Hawthorne do you have holed up out at your ranch? Or could she be a newcomer to the area?”
Matt was in the proper frame of mind to snarl, “My life is none of your damned business, Harriet. Get your mind out of the gutter and finish ringing up my things. I happen to be in a hurry.”
She shot him a venomous look, but she did as told. After he’d paid and hauled out his things, another customer appeared at her counter.
“Rude SOB, wasn’t he?” the man said.
Harriet looked her customer over—a stranger to her but clean, neatly dressed and wearing a baseball cap that covered almost all of his red hair.
“Matt McCarlson is worse than that,” she said maliciously. “I will believe to my dying day that he had something to do with his wife’s death. He’s lived alone ever since, that I know of, which makes his buying women’s cosmetics darned suspicious, if you ask me.”
“I fully agree. Where did you say his ranch is located?”