Dallas laughed. “Honey, every woman from nine to ninety wants to feel a little spark now and then. And even though no one can tell us your exact age, I think we can safely assume you fit somewhere in that category.”
With a good-natured groan, Lass followed Dallas’s orders and searched through the pink lingerie until she found the correct size. But as the two women moved on down the aisle, past the cotton undergarments, Lass touched her friend’s arm.
“Dallas, wait a minute. Look at this stuff. Have you stopped to consider that I might be a cotton sort of girl?”
Dallas shot her a look of wry disbelief and Lass made a helpless gesture with her hands.
“See what I mean! I don’t remember anything about myself. It’s … scary. I could have been a mousy little librarian afraid to date even a nerd or—God forbid—maybe I was one of those women who flaunted themselves and had boyfriends scattered all over town!”
Dallas began to laugh, then, spotting the distress on Lass’s face, she gently curved a reassuring arm around her shoulders.
“I’m sorry, Lass, I know that none of this seems funny to you. But the idea of you being either one of those types of women is ridiculous. You have amnesia, not a personality disorder. Believe me, if Brady had thought you were wild and crazy, he wouldn’t have brought you home to the ranch. And trust me, he’s a good judge of character.”
After last night, there was no telling how he was judging her character, Lass thought. Stifling a groan, she said, “Well, I’m just very grateful that he decided to help me. That all of you are helping me.”
Dallas gave her shoulders another squeeze. “Look, Lass, I’m actually a selfish person. I love having your company. Brita’s so busy with her career as a doctor and Maura’s time is consumed with her own family. She has an eighteen-month-old son, Riley, and two weeks ago she gave birth to another son, Michael, so I don’t have a sister to pal with anymore and you’re the next best thing. The fact that you’re a horsewoman like me just makes it even better.” She shook her head with wry disbelief. “Isn’t it destiny,” she went on, “that you ended up on our horse farm?”
Destiny? Sometimes Lass felt as if she were in the twilight zone or some freakish dream that was too good to be true. She worried that at any moment she would wake and be jerked back to some dark place she didn’t want to be.
“Very,” Lass agreed. “And if your brother hadn’t found me that night—I might not even be alive today.”
Dropping her arm from her shoulders, Dallas urged her on down the aisle and away from the cotton underwear. “I can tell my brother likes you,” she declared. “A lot.”
Lass glanced around the store, as though she suspected anyone hearing such a comment would burst out laughing. From what Kate had told her, Brady’s acquaintances with women ranged all over the county and beyond. He’d never lacked female attention. In fact, Kate said that more often than not, Brady had more trouble getting rid of a girlfriend than acquiring one. And after that kiss he’d given Lass last night, she could certainly understand why. The man’s charm was so strong it deserved a warning label.
Picking up a black camisole, she studied the lace edging that would frame her bosom in a very provocative way. “I understand that Brady likes a lot of women,” Lass murmured as she fingered the whisper light silk.
Dallas grimaced with disapproval. “Yes. But not like this. Not like you.”
Lass jerked her gaze to the other woman’s face. “Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s never brought any woman home to the ranch before. And he darn sure wouldn’t let one near Grandma. Not unless he considered her to be really special.”
Could Dallas be right? Lass wondered. Did he consider her special? As soon as the question crossed her mind, she berated herself for even thinking it. She couldn’t allow herself to get all dreamy-eyed about Brady. Any hour, any day, someone could show up to claim her. And then what would happen? Where would she be? What sort of life would that someone lead her back to? No, getting involved with Brady would be the same as asking for a heart ache.
Later that evening, more than thirty miles away at the sheriff’s department in Carrizozo, Brady was sitting at his desk, searching through page after page of data on the computer screen, when a cup of steaming hot coffee appeared a few inches from his right hand.
Glancing up, he saw Hank’s beaming face.
“What’s this for?” Brady asked the junior deputy.
“I just made a new pot and you looked like you needed it.”
“Thanks. I do need it. It’s been a hell of a day and it’s not over yet.”
“You’re telling me. Ever since I came back from lunch, the darn phone has been ringing off the hook.” Hank motioned toward the monitor. “Find anything on there that fits Lass?”
“This is the first chance I’ve had to look today. And so far I’m not finding any missing persons alerts that even come close to Lass’s description.” He reached for the foam cup and took a cautious sip while Hank pulled up a folding metal chair and flopped into it.
This afternoon, while Brady had driven Johnny to the mountains, the department had been flooded with an array of calls. For the past several hours, Hank had been out doing his part to deal with the problems. Brady glanced at his watch. It was getting late, but before he left for the ranch, he needed to talk over Johnny’s findings with Ethan. But for the past hour Ethan had been tied up with meetings and phone calls. Today had been a busy day for all of them and Brady was feeling more than tired. He was frustrated and troubled and more than a little anxious to see Lass again.
“I’m glad you showed up before I head home,” he told Hank. “I need your reports from this morning. Have you had a chance to type them up?”
Hank looked at him with a bemused expression. “Reports? I didn’t go out on any calls this morning.”
Brady slowly lifted his gray hat from his hand and stabbed his fingers through his flattened hair. “Hank, I sent you out to question the businesses on Sudderth and Mechem Drives. You were supposed to ask if anyone working in those businesses recalled seeing Lass in the days before we found her. Remember?”
“Well, sure I remember what I was doing this morning. I just wasn’t considering that the same as going on a call. You sent me on that job. It wasn’t the same as somebody calling in and wanting help. Don’t you see?”
Brady sighed. “Yeah. I see. So where are your notes? I understand that you’ve been tied up most of the day, so if you’ve not had a chance to type them up, we’ll worry about that later. Just give me what you have and I’ll try to decipher your handwriting.”
Hank’s expression turned sheepish. “I ain’t got no notes. Nobody knew nothin’. So there wasn’t any use in taking down notes.”
Screwing his hat back onto his head, Brady narrowed his eyes on the hapless deputy. Hank was usually a dedicated deputy. And ever since he’d been hired on at the department, he’d been a good friend to Brady. But at this moment he wanted to wring the man’s neck.
“No use, huh? I don’t know what makes me angrier at you, Hank. Not following orders or using double negatives!”
His face red, Hank cringed back in his seat. “Brady, that’s not fair! I talked to a bunch of people. Waitresses and clerks and cleaning people. You name it and I talked to ‘em. They all looked at Lass’s photo and none of them remembered her.”
Frustration boiled over and Brady’s hand slapped down so hard on his desk that the coffee came dangerously close to slopping over the rim and spilling onto the ink blotter.
“Since when did Sheriff Hamilton decide to change department policy around here?” Brady boomed at him. “Maybe we should call him out