When he tried to sit up, the room spun again. On a groan of defeat, he lay back and closed his eyes. Unfortunately he couldn’t shut out the odd ringing in his ears.
“He’s right in here,” he heard a voice say sometime later. It was the same voice Dominic had heard earlier. A woman’s voice, slightly husky and breathless.
It belonged to the angel.
He opened his eyes to make sure she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. To his disappointment, a man about thirty-six, his own age, was on his haunches staring at Dominic. Another man had brought in a stretcher and placed it near the bunk.
“Hi, there. Glad to see you’re awake. What’s your name?”
“Dominic Giraud,” he muttered, expelling a deep sigh of frustration.
“I’m Chad. We heard you had an accident out by the river. Just rest easy while I take your vital signs, then we’ll drive you into the Laramie hospital where a doctor will examine you.”
“I’m all right,” Dominic groaned his protestation as the paramedic gave him an on-the-spot physical.
“That’s probably true, but you have a small lump on the back of your head, and you might have suffered a broken ankle, which needs to be X-rayed.”
It was one of the few times in Dominic’s life when he didn’t have the physical strength to walk away from a situation he wanted no part of.
“Where’s the angel?”
“You mean the one who rescued you and gave you expert first aid?”
“So I wasn’t dreaming…”
“I’m afraid I’m just a mere mortal, Mr. Giraud.”
He liked the sound of her voice, especially the way she tried to say his name in good French. Most Americans didn’t bother.
Intrigued by this telling bit of insight into her psyche he said, “Move around so I can see you to thank you for saving my life.”
“Later.” Chad grinned. “She’s a looker, and I might get the wrong blood pressure reading from you. Besides, I need her to stay where she is and keep holding the lantern for me.”
Dominic muttered another epithet. He would have tipped his head back to get a glimpse of her if it weren’t for the fact that every time he tried to turn or sit up, the room swam.
“I was in a pileup on the freeway a while ago and know exactly how you feel,” Chad commiserated. “Give yourself twenty-four hours and you’ll be a new man again.” The two paramedics helped ease Dominic onto the stretcher.
He still couldn’t see the woman who walked behind them to the door before she said good bye and wished him a speedy recovery. To irritate him further, the ringing sound in his ears grew worse the second they moved him outside. It took him a moment to realize the noise wasn’t coming from inside his head.
“Mon Dieu!— That’s a horn!”
“It’s your Jeep. The battery will die soon.” Chad spoke up as they placed him in the back of the ambulance. “I understand Thornton’s Garage will be out to get it in the morning. We’ll leave all the details at the hospital with you.”
For the moment Dominic had no choice but to give in to his fate. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be back tomorrow or the next day to thank his rescuer properly. She couldn’t possibly be as beautiful as he’d imagined.
Early the next morning, after Hannah had opened the museum for business, a tow truck from Jim’s garage drove up in front. With Elizabeth propped against her shoulder, she walked outside and gave the men directions to the accident site.
It reminded her to phone the hospital later in the day and find out the condition of the dark-haired stranger who’d dominated her thoughts since last night. She supposed he might be living in Laramie, but she doubted it very much.
He didn’t mention notifying a family member or a friend about his accident. Maybe he was married, but she hadn’t seen any rings on his fingers. Of course that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Some people couldn’t wear rings or didn’t choose to.
Though he spoke beautiful English, his name was French and she’d heard him mutter in French several times on the ride back to the museum from the river. Even in his dazed state, there was an undeniable sophistication about him that made him different from the other men she’d known in her life.
“He’s what you call a gorgeous man, sweetheart.” She spoke to the baby as she settled Elizabeth in the playpen with a noisy rattle to distract her. “I’ve seen them in films and magazines, so I know they exist. But I never met one in the flesh until last night. Whoever he is, I’m afraid I’ll never forget him.”
Up until the last Christmas recess, Hannah had been in graduate school at the University of Laramie where she’d dated various men on campus who’d seemed anxious to get to know her better. But over the holidays her younger sister Lisa had given birth to Elizabeth, and then had run away from home. She’d left no message where she was going or when she would be back.
In order to care for the baby who’d been virtually abandoned and needed her aunt desperately, Hannah’s whole life had been turned around in a matter of hours. It meant putting her studies and social life on hold, but she wasn’t complaining.
Compared to the welfare of a beautiful, innocent child, any sacrifice was worth it, especially when the baby was Hannah’s flesh and blood. She would think about her own personal needs and desires at another time. Right now Elizabeth was her number-one priority.
After pressing a kiss to the baby’s silken blond head, she hurriedly took advantage of the time to get the store part of the museum ready for business.
To her consternation, the stranger’s image continued to haunt her all morning while she waited on customers. Finally, when Elizabeth went down for her afternoon nap and there was a lull in tourist activity, Hannah phoned the hospital for information.
She should have been relieved to learn that Mr. Giraud had already been discharged with nothing more than a headache and a sprained ankle. For his sake she was relieved.
What she couldn’t understand was this unfathomable sense of disappointment that he’d already left the hospital. Not that she would ever have seen him again. Of course she wouldn’t have. But it was just the idea that he’d come and gone so quickly from her life.
In ways, she wished the accident hadn’t happened at all. She wished she’d never looked into the velvety-brown depths of his eyes, never felt the strength of his incredible physique, never held him close enough to breathe in his masculine scent, never touched his luxuriant hair, never memorized the strong lines of his darkly handsome features.
What a magnificent man…
The more she thought about him, the more she wondered what kind of business had brought a person like that out to Wyoming of all places. Even more puzzling, why had he been driving around on her property, especially when there was no road? None of it made sense.
At one point she chastised herself for allowing thoughts of him to impinge on her consciousness. All they did was remind her that for whatever reason he’d ventured into Wyoming territory, he probably wouldn’t be staying here long. It was absurd to even entertain the hope of seeing him again or getting to know him better.
In fact she was so angry at her foolish, ridiculous imaginations, she intentionally exhausted her strength by spending the rest of the afternoon between customers unloading a week’s work of saleable merchandise from the trunk of her car.
The latest stack of printed flyers needed to be scrolled and put out on the counter. They’d been made to look like authentic want ads. She tied each one with a thong to add the finishing touch. The flyers, along with the Pony Express Rider outfits and the colorful maps of the Pony Express Trail, were the items