He reminded himself that the knock on her head could have messed up some of the wiring. Or maybe she’d been that way before.
Her gaze came back to him. She was studying him intently, sizing him up. He wondered what she saw and couldn’t help but think of his former girlfriend, Tanya, and the argument they’d had just before he’d left Texas.
“Haven’t you ever wanted more?” Tanya hadn’t looked at him. She’d been busy throwing her things into a large trash bag. When she’d moved in with him, she’d moved in gradually, bringing her belongings in piecemeal.
“I’m only going to be gone a week,” he’d said, watching her clean out the drawers in his apartment, wondering if this was it. She’d threatened to leave him enough times, but she never had. Maybe this was the time.
He had been trying to figure out how he felt about that when she’d suddenly turned toward him.
“Did you hear what I said?”
Obviously not. “What?”
“This business with your brothers...” She did her eye roll. He really hated it when she did that and she knew it. “If it isn’t something to do with Texas Boys Barbecue...”
He could have pointed out that the barbecue joint she was referring to was a multimillion-dollar business, with more than a dozen locations across Texas, and it paid for this apartment.
But he’d had a feeling that wasn’t really what this particular argument was about, so he’d said, “Your point?” even though he’d already known it.
“You’re too busy for a relationship. At least that is your excuse.”
“You knew I was busy before you moved in.”
“Ever ask yourself why your work is more important than your love life?” She hadn’t given him time to respond. “You want to know what I think? I think Austin Cardwell goes through life saving people because he’s afraid of letting himself fall in love.”
He wasn’t afraid. He just hadn’t fallen in love the way Tanya had wanted him to. “Glad we got that figured out,” he’d said.
Tanya had flared with anger. “That’s all you have to say?”
And he’d made it worse by shrugging, something he knew she hated. He hadn’t had the time or patience for this kind of talk at that moment. “Maybe we should talk about this when I get back from Montana.”
She’d shaken her head in obvious disgust. “That is so like you. Put things off and maybe the situation will right itself. You missed your own brother’s wedding and you don’t really care if they open a barbecue restaurant in Montana or not. But instead of being honest, you ignore the problem and hope it goes away until finally they force you to come to Montana. For once, I would love to see you just take a stand. Make a decision. Do something.”
“I missed my brother’s wedding because I was on a case. One that almost got me killed, you might remember.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I remember. I stayed by your bedside for three days.”
He sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “What I do is important.”
“More important than me.” She’d stood, hands on hips, waiting.
He’d known what she wanted. A commitment. The problem was, he wasn’t ready. And right then, he’d known he would never be with Tanya.
“This is probably for the best,” he’d said, motioning to the bulging trash bag.
Tears flowing, she’d nodded. “Don’t bother to call me if and when you get back.” With that, she had grabbed up the bag and stormed to the door, stopping only long enough to hurl his apartment key at his head.
“Where are my clothes?”
Austin blinked, confused for a moment, he’d been so lost in his thoughts. He focused on the woman in the hospital bed. “You can’t leave. Your husband is on his way.”
Panic filled her expression. She tried to get out of the bed. As he moved to her bedside to stop her, he heard the door open behind him.
Austin turned to see a large stocky man come into the room, followed by the doctor.
“Mrs. Stewart,” the doctor said as he approached her bed. “Your husband is here.”
The stocky man stopped a few feet into the room and stood frowning. For a moment, Austin thought there had been a mistake and that the man didn’t recognize the woman.
But the man wasn’t looking at his wife. He was frowning at Austin. As if the doctor’s words finally jarred him into motion, the man strode to the other side of the bed and quickly took his wife’s hand as he bent to kiss her forehead. “I was so worried about you.”
Austin watched the woman’s expression. She looked terrified, her gaze locking with his in a plea for help.
“Excuse me,” Austin said as he stepped forward. He had no idea what he planned to say, let alone do. But something was wrong here.
“I beg your pardon?” said the alleged husband, turning to look at Austin before swinging his gaze to the doctor with a who the hell is this? expression.
“This is the man who saved your wife’s life,” the doctor said and introduced Austin before getting a page that he was needed elsewhere. He excused himself and hurried out, leaving the three of them alone.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” Austin said.
“Marc. Marc Stewart.”
Stewart, Austin thought, remembering the name on the driver’s license in the purse he’d found in the car. “And this woman’s name is Rebecca Stewart?” he asked the husband.
“That’s right,” Marc Stewart answered in a way that dared Austin to challenge him.
As he looked to the woman in the bed, Austin noticed that she gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “I’m sorry, but how do we know you’re her husband?”
“Are you serious?” the man demanded, glaring across the bed at him.
“She doesn’t seem to recognize you,” he said, even though what he’d noticed was that the woman seemed terrified of the man.
Marc Stewart gave him the once-over, clearly upset. “She’s had a concussion.”
“Old habits are hard to break,” Austin said as he displayed his badge and ID to the alleged Marc Stewart. “You wouldn’t mind me asking for some identification from you, would you?”
The man looked as if he might have a coronary. At least he’d come to the right place, Austin thought, as the alleged Marc Stewart angrily pulled out his wallet and showed Austin his license.
Marc Andrew Stewart, Austin read. “There was a car seat in the back of the vehicle she was driving. Where is the baby?”
“With my mother.” A blood vessel in the man’s cheek began to throb. “Look Deputy...Cardwell, is it? I appreciate that you supposedly saved my wife’s life, but it’s time for you to butt out.”
Austin told himself he should back off, but the fear in the woman’s eyes wouldn’t let him. “She doesn’t seem to know you and she isn’t wearing a wedding ring.” He didn’t add that the woman seemed terrified and had bruises on her upper arms where someone had gotten rough with her. Not to mention the fact that when he’d told her that her husband was on his way, she’d panicked and tried to leave. Concussion or not, something was wrong with all this.
“I think you should leave,” the man said.