The Deputy's Lost and Found (13 page)

At that moment, it was all Brady could do to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing her. But with children milling about, he couldn’t take the chance, because he knew that once his lips touched hers, he wouldn’t be able to control his hunger.

“When you left my bed the other night, I had no idea we were going to be apart this long,” he explained. “Things have been…worse than hectic. But I’ll explain all that later. Right now we’re leaving here. I’ve already talked to Dallas.”

She stared at him in surprise. “Leaving? Why?”

He grimaced. “Because—we need to talk.”

Picking up the serious note in his voice, she nodded in silent agreement. “I’ll go get my things and meet you at your truck.”

The old foreman’s house was a small stucco structure built on the side of the mountain about a mile from where the riding stables were located. The road up to the old empty home place wasn’t graveled, but since the last rain was long ago it had dried up to make the narrow path hard packed and easy to navigate.

As they climbed the twisting road, through a thick stand of juniper, Lass looked at him in confusion. “Why are we going on this road? I thought you said we needed to talk.”

“We’re going somewhere quiet,” he answered. “You’ll understand when we get there.”

“Why don’t we talk now?” she asked, and then slanted him a confused glance. “Are you angry with me about something, Brady?”

Realizing she didn’t understand anything that was going on, he reached across the console between their seats, to clasp her hand. “No. I’m not angry at all. Why would I be?”

Her gaze dropped to her lap. “I’m not sure,” she said
quietly. “You seem upset. Maybe…you’re regretting the other night…when we made love.” Her head came up and she squared around in the seat to look at him. “Maybe you’re wishing that it never happened, that I…hadn’t fallen in love with you.”

She looked miserable and Brady felt even worse. Groaning, he shook his head. “No! I’m upset because—” His jaw tightened as they topped a steep rise then flattened out directly in front of the old stucco. “Here we are. Let’s go in.”

Even though the cool evening air had already started to move in, the house was stuffy from being closed up. While Brady opened the windows, Lass walked around, gazing at the rustic surroundings, but not really seeing anything. She was too anxious and keyed up to concentrate on her surroundings. Whatever it was that Brady had to say, she wanted him to get it over with.

The tenseness she was feeling must have shown on her face because the moment he returned to her side, he gently took hold of her arm and led her over to a small, wood-framed couch. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested, “so we can be comfortable.”

Lass sank next to him on the green cushions and while she waited for him to continue, her thoughts rolled over the past few days since his work schedule had gone awry. Without his company, she’d felt empty and as each day had come and gone, she’d imagined how it would be once he was back home and they finally had a chance to be together. Her whole body had been hungering, pining for him, and she’d envisioned him swooping her up into his arms and kissing her until they were both breathless. Had their time apart caused his desire for her to wane?

“I have news for you,” he said finally. “And I wanted us to be alone when I gave it to you.”

The grim look on his face put a chill in her heart. “What sort of news?” she asked hoarsely. “Is it…about me? My case?”

He wiped a hand over his face, then swallowed as though his throat was so lodged with words none of them could get out. “I don’t know any other way to tell you this, Lass, except that I—”

His troubled gaze caught hers and she inwardly shivered at the dark, foreboding shadows she saw in his green eyes. “I believe I’ve found your father.”

Incredulous, her head reared back as she stared at him. “My…father!” she spluttered. “I thought—Oh, God, I thought you were only going to say that you’d found someone else who’d recognized me being in Ruidoso. This is…Are you sure?”

“Not a hundred percent. But close to it.”

Unconsciously her fingertips lifted to her mouth as her breaths started coming fast and short. “Oh, Brady, how—”

“The brand on your old horse, Rusty. It was an
F
that went with the
P
. An
F
for Farms. Porter Farms. Does that ring a bell?”

She closed her eyes as all sort of images began to fly at her like whirling debris in the spin of a tornado. Rooms and furnishings. Barns and stalls. Large trees and thick St. Augustine grass covering the lawn like green carpet. She could almost smell the grill on the patio, the mockingbirds chirping in the live oaks, her mother’s sweet voice calling to her, calling out her name.

“Oh, God,” she whispered in awe. “My name is Camille! Camille Porter.”

A heavy breath rushed out of him and she opened her eyes to see his expression had turned to one of a sad sort of acceptance. His reaction didn’t make sense to her. In
fact, it scared her and she flung her arms around his neck and held on tightly.

“Brady, what does this all mean? What’s going to happen now?”

His arms circled around her and pulled her so close she could scarcely breathe. “Your father is coming tomorrow. I’m figuring he has plans to take you back home with him. Do you remember his name?”

Her face buried in the side of his neck, she continued to cling to him. “No. But I can visualize him now. He—I was very angry with him when I left the ranch. I remember that much. I think I’ve been angry with him for a long time. Each time I picture him—the two of us together—I feel this huge sense of betrayal and disappointment, but I can’t remember why I should feel that way.” Lifting her head from his shoulder, she looked at him with sudden conviction. “I don’t want to go back with him, Brady. I—”

“Oh, Lass, sweet Lass, don’t go getting all worked up right now. We don’t know what’s going to happen yet.”

Another thought struck her, and she untangled herself from his arms and rose to her feet.

“Brady, did he…Did you find out about the man? The one who took me from the racetrack? Did my father mention him or a…husband?”

“No. If this man truly is your father, he didn’t mention you having any sort of family. And when I first talked to his secretary she only mentioned Mr. Porter and a daughter. I didn’t bring up the subject of the man at the racetrack. To him or the secretary. I didn’t want to tip our hand.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

Rising from the couch, he closed his hands over her shoulders. “Lass, as a lawman I have to keep my mind open
to any and every thing. If Ward Porter had any sort of connection to the man at the racetrack, I want to question him about it before he has a chance to plan his answers.”

Stunned, her head jerked back and forth with disbelief. “Do you think…Oh, surely my father didn’t send him to harm me?”

The horror of that thought filled her eyes with tears and then she gripped the sides of her head with both hands and moaned. “I can’t think, Brady,” she said, her voice full of anguish. “Everything is rushing at me. Emotions. Memories. Fears. Oh, God, it has to end! No matter what happens to me, it has to end!”

Her knees suddenly grew so mushy that she was forced to grab the front of his shirt to prevent her body from sliding to the floor.

Muttering a curse, Brady quickly swept her up in his arms and carried her to the back of the house to one of its two bedrooms.

As soon as he deposited her on the bed, she rolled to her side and pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m sorry, Brady. I just got a little shaky there for a moment.”

“Lie still and don’t talk,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

By the time he returned with a cool glass of water, she was feeling stronger. After she took several long sips from the glass, he placed it on a nearby dresser, then took a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Better now?” he asked.

She nodded weakly. “At least my head doesn’t feel like it’s going to rip apart.”

“I should call Bridget to come look you over. Or take you into the hospital,” he suggested, his expression tight with concern.

Sighing, she turned on her back and looked up at him. “I
don’t need medical attention, Brady. I need time to absorb all of this. It’s…too much for me to deal with all at once.”

He stroked the hair off her forehead. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy for you. It’s not…easy for me, either.”

With a look of anguish she rose to a sitting position and cupped his face with her hands. “Brady, I’m so scared. What’s going to happen to me?”

Gathering her close to him, he spoke close to her ear. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Lass.”

“It will,” she sobbed into his shirt. “If I have to leave you.”

Suddenly his hands were on her face, tilting her head back and away from him. She blinked away the moisture in her eyes to see that he was gazing at her with hunger and need and something she’d not ever seen on his face before.

“Lass, ever since the night we made love—no even before that—I knew that you were special, I could feel something happening between us. I didn’t want to think I was falling in love with you. I thought that was something that would happen a few years down the road, when I was good and ready to let it happen.” His mouth twisted to a rueful grin. “I didn’t understand it was something a person couldn’t control.”

Her heart seemed to stop as it waited, wondered, hoped that she was hearing the very thing it needed to survive. “Brady, are you—are you telling me that you love me?”

His fingers delved into her hair, stroked ever so softly against her temple. “I’m telling you that I love you, Lass.”

Tears brimmed over the rim of her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “Are you saying this because you…think it’s something I want to hear?”

An anguished groan growled deep in his throat. “Oh, Lass, how could you think that? I…wasn’t going to tell you. Not now. Not with everything else that’s going on. You already have more than enough to deal with.”

“But…don’t you understand, Brady? All this other stuff about me—about my past—it doesn’t matter. Hearing you say that you love me is all that I need.”

With a rueful shake of his head, he pulled her back to him and buried his face in the side of her hair. “But it does matter, Lass. You can’t just wipe away the life you’d been leading, as though it didn’t exist. You need to go back—to remember—to face the problems you were having and deal with them. Unless you do that I don’t think—” He paused as a heavy breath rushed out of him. “I don’t think we could ever be truly happy together.”

“But Brady—”

“That man, Lass, the one at the track. If you remember him kissing you, then the two of you must have had some sort of relationship. That’s why you need to go back to Porter Farms, to give yourself time to remember what he meant to you. Because I…don’t want us being together to be a mistake, Lass.”

Pulling back from him, she stared at him in stunned wonder. “Brady, I told you that he was kissing me against my will! He was the one who was trying to hurt me! How do you think I could ever have feelings for him?”

Grimacing, he closed his eyes. “Because I don’t know what he meant to you in the first place! Lovers have arguments, Lass. They do and say terrible things to each other. In my line of work I see it all the time. Then after a few days, everything is forgiven and forgotten and the two of them are back together.”

“Not with me,” she said flatly.

His eyes opened, then narrowed skeptically on her face. “All right. Maybe that man wasn’t important to you. So how can you be sure there wasn’t someone else?
Someone you’d fallen in love with and you just haven’t remembered him yet?”

More tears formed in her eyes, then splashed onto her face. “Because I know I wouldn’t feel what I do whenever I touch you, Brady. When I search my heart, all I can find is the love I feel for you.”

He stared at her for long moments, and then with a stifled groan, he pressed his cheek against hers. “Oh, Lass, I hope you’re right. Because I—I’m not sure I can live without you.”

She wanted to assure him that he wouldn’t have to, but she held the words back. She understood that nothing she could say now would convince him that her life was meant to be with him. The best she could do to convey her love was to show him, to let her lips, her hands and fingers do all the talking.

“Brady.”

Whispering his name was all it took for his lips to latch over hers in a kiss so devouring it snatched her breath and pulled a whimper from deep in her throat. Her mouth couldn’t begin to keep up with his rough, hungry search, so she simply surrendered to the thrill of being a captive to his kiss.

Mindlessly, her arms slipped around his neck, while one hand glided up the back of his neck and into his thick hair. The hard heat of his body ignited a fire that flashed through her veins, raced down her spine and blanketed her skin with a shiver of goose bumps.

With a guttural growl, he lowered them until they were both lying crosswise on the soft mattress. With their mouths still fused, their arms and legs entwined, he drank deeply from her lips, then nibbled and kissed his way across her cheeks, up her nose and onto her forehead.

By the time he raised his head and gazed down at her, she was weak with desire and nothing else mattered but him and this moment.

“Lass, this isn’t going to fix anything,” he murmured with anguish. “Tomorrow—”

“Is just that,” she swiftly interrupted. “Tomorrow. I don’t want to spend this precious time with you talking about what might happen in the next few days. Just love me. Love me now.”

She didn’t have to implore him a second time. After a moment’s hesitation, his mouth crushed down on hers and for a while all thought of tomorrow was forgotten.

T
he next day, shortly after lunch, Brady was sitting in the family room with his grandmother when Reggie came to the door and announced that Ward Porter had arrived and she’d seated him in the parlor.

Thanking the maid, he rose from the long couch, then cast a grim glance at Kate. “Well, Grandma, looks like this is it,” he said flatly. “Ever since I plucked Lass up out of that ditch, I’ve been working toward this day. Funny, now that it’s here, I feel like hell.”

Sensing her grandson’s anguish, Kate laid a hand on his arm. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a few minutes to go over a few details with this man, then go up and collect Lass from her bedroom,” he told her, then with a grateful pat to her hand, he turned and left the room.

As he walked down the long hallway to the parlor, he
was confident that he could trust his grandmother to give Lass the emotional support she needed before facing her father. Since Lass had come to live on the Diamond D, she and Kate had grown close. The fact that his grandmother clearly loved her only proved to Brady that his feelings for Lass weren’t foolish or misguided as Conall had tried to make him believe. But once Lass came down those stairs and met her father, how was she going to feel? Was she going to remember everything? Remember that there was a man somewhere back in Texas that she already loved?

Dear God, facing a gun barrel wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the thought of losing her.

Once Brady reached the opening of the long parlor, he paused only for a moment before he stepped into the austere room that was relegated for guests such as Ward Porter.

The man was sitting in a green armchair, his elbows resting on his knees, a black cowboy hat dangling from his two hands. He appeared to be a tall, robust sort of man, but at the moment, his graying head was slightly bowed, as though he was in troubled thought. The idea suddenly had Brady wondering how his own father would be feeling if he learned one of his children had gone missing and couldn’t even remember his name. Doyle would be devastated. Could be, this man was, too.

Clearing his throat, Brady swiftly crossed the room. Before he reached Ward Porter, the man lifted his head and studied Brady with a curious squint.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Porter. I’m Brady Donovan,” he introduced himself. “The deputy you spoke with yesterday.”

He extended his hand to Lass’s father and with a look of faint surprise the man rose to his feet to shake it.

“I’m not sure I understand any of this,” the man said, a frown furrowing his brow. “I’ve heard of the Diamond
D horses, of course, though I don’t think we’ve ever met. Is this where Camille has been staying since she lost…her memory?”

Brady gestured for the man to return to his seat, then crossed a short space to sit on the edge of a straight-back chair with a cowhide seat.

“That’s right, Mr. Porter. This is my family’s home. We thought it would be better for her to stay here than in a shelter in Ruidoso.”

“Oh. Well, I’m grateful to you for extending her the hospitality,” he said, then added, “And by the way, just Ward will do. No need to be formal, is there?”

As far as Brady could see, Lass didn’t physically take after her father. His face was broad, his features on the coarse side. The bit of hair that hadn’t yet grayed appeared to be a dirty blond color and his eyes were dark brown, the complete opposite of Lass’s soft gray. At the moment the man’s narrow gaze was wary and full of confusion.

“No. Not at all,” Brady agreed.

Ward suddenly reached for something lying on the floor next to his chair and it was then that Brady noticed the leather briefcase.

“I brought all the papers I think you’ll need to verify my identity and my relation to Camille. And a few photos, too. Just in case you have any doubts.”

Brady had all sorts of doubts, but he couldn’t throw them at the man all at once. Besides, a person usually learned more by listening than questioning, he thought.

“I’ll look at them in a few minutes,” Brady told him. “Right now I’d like to hear about Lass. You told me yesterday you didn’t know where she was or had been.”

Ward’s brown eyes squinted to mere slits. “Lass? You call her by that name?”

“We didn’t know her name,” Brady reminded him. “And she didn’t want to be called Jane.”

His eyes suddenly widened and then a faint pallor came over his cheeks. “Oh. I see.”

“Do you?” Brady asked. “Because I’m not sure you understand the hell, the anguish, your daughter has endured these past weeks. No one came forward to identify her. No family or friends. I think she was beginning to think that she had no loved ones or family.”

A ruddy red suddenly replaced Ward’s ghostly white complexion. “Look, maybe I don’t come across as father of the year here, but I was in the dark about this whole thing,” Ward blurted defensively. “My daughter left the ranch of her own free will. She wouldn’t tell me where she was headed. Nothing. And short of following her, there wasn’t much I could do to stop her. She’s twenty-six years old. That’s a grown woman—with her own mind.”

The man was clearly agitated, but underneath it all, Brady could see pain on his face, the sort that comes right alongside a dose of regret.

“So you don’t know why she came here to New Mexico? To Ruidoso?”

“Not exactly. But I should have guessed. She always loved it out west and she’s not going to go anywhere where there’s not racehorses close by. That’s for damned sure. Guess that’s the one thing she got from me.” He shoved a hand through his wavy hair, then looked straight at Brady. This time regret and concern were clearly written on the older man’s face. “She hasn’t remembered me or what happened?”

“Not completely. Only bits and pieces. She claims she was angry with you about something, but she can’t remember what or why.”

Ward’s head suddenly dropped and when he spoke, his
quiet words were directed at the floor. “That much is true,” he said with a sigh, then with a rueful twist to his lips, he looked up. “You see, a couple of weeks before Camille left the ranch, her mother passed away. She and Judith had always been really close and her death was almost more than she could bear. Camille is the only child we had and I guess in our own ways we clung to our little girl too much.”

Brady leaned forward in his chair as his mind turned over the image of Lass grieving. Just the idea made his heart ache. “Was your wife’s death sudden?”

“No. It was an expected thing. She had cancer and her health had quickly deteriorated these past few months. You see, she refused to take any sort of treatments to save her life. And…well, Camille blames me for that. She blames me for her mother’s death.”

Ward’s voice cracked on his last words and Brady wondered how it could get any worse for this man and for Lass.

“Why is that?”

Ward suddenly rose from his chair and with his hands jammed deep in the pockets of his western trousers began to pace around the large room. “Because, damn it, she found out about Jane. My mistress.”

“Oh, I see.”

He stopped in midstride to look at Brady. “I doubt it,” he said tightly. “I doubt your father is…as weak as I am. I’ll bet he’s always done the right thing, been a man you can look up to.”

“Pretty much so. That’s not to say he’s perfect. He’s made some mistakes, but when he does, he’ll be the first to admit it.”

Tilting his head back, Ward gazed at the high ceiling above their heads. “I could go into a lot of reasons why I’ve
had Jane in my life for the past several years. But that won’t fix anything with Camille. She’s lost her respect for me. I doubt she’ll ever forgive me.”

Brady studied him thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t say that. She has a huge, compassionate heart. She just needs time. She’s been through some trauma and the doctors aren’t certain when or if she might recover all her memory.”

“Yeah. Well, once I get her back on the farm, I’m going to do everything I can to make it up to her. To help her remember.”

Drawing in a deep, bracing breath, Brady rose to his feet. “Ward, I’ve not asked this yet, but before she left the ranch was Lass involved with anyone?”

Brady’s question caused the older man’s brows to arch with faint surprise. “Involved? You mean with a man?”

The urge to swallow at the hard lump in his throat was so great Brady finally had to cough before he could speak. “That’s what I mean. Like a husband? Fiancé? Boyfriend?”

“No. Camille has only had a handful of boyfriends over the past years and none of them have been that serious. Her mother always said our daughter put her love into horses, not men. That’s why she’s not yet gotten married. I say she’s just darned picky. I’ve tried my best to get her interested in David, one of my assistant trainers, but she wouldn’t have any part of him.” His gaze narrowed on Brady’s face. “Why do you ask?”

Now was hardly the time for Brady to go into his feelings for Lass. There were still many blank spaces that needed to be filled in. If not by this man, then someone he might lead to.

“Your daughter was injured because she was running from a man. A man who was seen with her at the track. She remembers struggling with him, but she can’t yet identify
him. I thought you might have an idea of who this person could have been.”

Ward looked disgusted and horrified at the same time and Brady instinctively knew that he’d played no part in Lass’s injury.

“I don’t have a clue. None of her friends back home would do such a vile thing. And she’s…well, she’s always been a good girl. She wouldn’t have let herself be picked up by a strange man at the track. It would have been done against her will.”

Yes, she was a good girl, a good person, Brady silently agreed. She deserved to be happy and now that he’d talked with Ward, he could see that she needed to return to Porter Farms, needed to get her feet under her and her past in order before she could truly be ready to start a life, a family with him. If that meant he had to hand her over to this man, for however long it took, then he would. Because he loved her. Because in spite of everything, what he wanted the most was her happiness.

Dear God, was this the first time in his life that he’d put a woman’s feelings before his own desires? The idea stung him, made him wonder what he’d been doing, thinking?

Hell, you know what you’ve been doing, Brady. You’ve always thought love was just a game you could either play or leave on the table. Now Lass has come along and showed you that love is nothing about playing or lust or getting what you desire. It’s about caring, protecting, giving.

Shaken by the idea that these past few weeks with Lass had changed him so much, he turned away from her father and swallowed hard. “That’s my thought, too.”

The sound of footsteps suddenly caught both men’s attention and Brady turned to see Lass and his grandmother stepping into the room. Kate had her arm around Lass’s
shoulders, yet even with the older woman’s support, Brady could see she was walking gingerly, as though meeting her father had left her weak and wary.

He could hear the slight intake of Ward’s breath before he took one step toward his daughter, then stopped abruptly and stared at her.

Across the room Lass could feel Kate’s strong arm at her waist, supporting her, comforting her, yet in spite of the woman’s hold on her, she felt as though her legs were going to crumble.

The man standing in front of her was her father. All this time, how could she not have remembered his name, his face? Now that she was seeing him in the flesh, it seemed incredible that her mind could have erased so much.

“Camille. Honey.”

From the corner of her eyes, Lass could see Brady moving to join them and her heart ached as she thought about the sweet love they’d made last night in the foreman’s old house. Was he actually going to force her to leave the Diamond D? Leave him? She couldn’t think about it now. If she did, she would totally break apart.

Once she was finally standing face-to-face with her father, Brady and Kate discreetly moved aside. Lass felt lost without them and the notion only proved how much at home she felt on the Diamond D, how much she considered Brady’s family as her family. Even Doyle, who wasn’t around all that much of the time, seemed more like a father to her now than Ward Porter.

“Hello, Daddy,” she quietly greeted.

For a moment he said nothing and then his face crumpled and his voice was full of cracks when he finally spoke. “You…remember me?”

Lass nodded. “Much more clearly now.”

Behind her right shoulder, Kate cleared her throat. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’ll get Opal to prepare a tray of refreshments.”

“I’ll carry it back for you,” Brady said, then turned to follow his grandmother out of the room.

Panicked by the thought of being without him, Lass blurted, “No, Brady! Please, come here. With me.”

He came to stand beside her and a small breath of relief rushed out of her as his arm settled at her waist. This was the man she loved, the man she always wanted at her side. Without him only half of her would exist.

“Honey,” Ward began, “you didn’t leave any word about where you were going. You wouldn’t answer your phone. I thought you were still hiding out somewhere just to spite me. I had no idea that you were lost. That you’d had some sort of accident. If I had, I would have been here immediately.”

Lass glanced up at Brady’s strong profile. “Maybe it’s best you hadn’t known where to find me,” she said softly.

Ward’s narrowed gaze traveled back and forth between his daughter and the deputy who’d rescued her. “How are you feeling now?” he asked Lass. “Ready to make the trip back to Porter Farms?”

“I don’t think I want to go to Porter Farms with you,” she said flatly.

Brady shot her a stunned look while Ward impatiently shook his head.

“Let’s not start this again, Camille.”

“I’m not Camille anymore. I prefer the name Lass now,” she bluntly pointed out.

Gasping with outrage, the older man looked to Brady. “What have you people done to her? What have
you
done to her? Brainwashed her? Can’t you see that she’s confused? She’s not even sure of her own name!”