Jake’s gut clenched.Poor woman.
“You’ve been in a serious car accident,” Uncle James said. “Apparently, the trauma and concussion have caused some memory loss.”
“Memory loss? Like amnesia? Will I ever get my memory back?”
A ripple of anxiety ran through Jake, leaving him feeling like he’d just ridden eight seconds on a bull that would rather kill him than let him off. The prospect of never regaining her memory must terrify her.
Uncle James laid a hand on her good arm and spoke in a soothing voice. “There’s no reason to believe your memory won’t return. You hit your head hard. If you rest and let your body heal, I’m sure it will all come back.”
Robert stepped closer to the bed. “Can I ask her a few questions?”
Uncle James’ brow lowered. “I don’t think that’s wise. She doesn’t need any unnecessary stress right now.”
Despite Uncle James’ gentle bedside manner, that look of disappointment had always made Robert and Jake obey. Growing up, he’d usually been the one to deliver the lecture they should have received from their father for their antics. Antics that often involved his own son, Ben, and such things as riding steers and jumping dirt bikes, resulting in emergency room visits, casts, and stitches. Their father’s usual response was more along the lines of, “Did you learn your lesson?” or “Good, it’ll toughen them up.”
“Can I at least—”
Uncle James raised his hand, cutting Robert off. “She needs to rest. Questions can wait until tomorrow morning.” He motioned to the door—his way of telling Robert and Jake to leave.
Jake stared at the woman, her plea echoing in his head. A part of him wanted to insist on staying. But if she didn’t remember the accident, she probably didn’t remember asking him to stay with her.
Robert and Jake left the woman’s room while their uncle stayed behind.
Jake sensed his brother’s frustration. He wanted answers, and Jake didn’t blame him. “Did you find anything out about the driver?”
“Well, Brian Barnes has no record, not even a speeding ticket. No next of kin listed. The car is registered under the same name. His ID and license plate registration both list an address where he hasn’t lived for the last six months. I’m beginning to suspect it’s not his real name. I sent his crushed cell phone to the state crime lab to see if they can salvage any information from it.”
Robert scratched at his jaw. “Barnes’ fingerprints are all over the gun, but the computer hasn’t found a match in any database anywhere. There’s gunshot residue on the gun, which means it was fired recently. We may have a homicide on our hands as well as an abduction.”
Jake let out a whistle. “Sounds like she’s been through a lot.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Robert said. “But until she can answer some questions, this investigation is going nowhere.”
“Best follow Doc’s orders and get a good night’s rest. Hopefully, she’ll remember something in the morning.” Jake headed toward the exit then remembered he rode here in the ambulance. He turned back to Robert. “Can you give me a ride home? I’ll ask Lottie to set an extra place for dinner.”
“For Lottie’s cooking? Sure.”
Jake cast one final glance at the woman’s door. A sudden chill swept over him, making his hands shake.
Hopefully, Barnes doesn’t have an accomplice who will come looking for her.
* * *
Delighted to haveRobert home for dinner, Lottie placed an extra-large helping of meatloaf in front of him. “When are you going to find yourself a girl, Robert? And don’t give me ‘there aren’t any good ones around’ garbage.”
Jake, glad for the reprieve, took a bite of his garlic mashed potatoes. As far as he was concerned, Robert was older and should get married first. At almost thirty-one and twenty-nine, they still had plenty of time to think about marriage. But if Robert was anything like Jake, he’d noticed how happy their cousin, Ben, was with his new wife and their two little girls. Even though Jake didn’t feel like he had time to devote to a wife didn’t mean he didn’t want what Ben had.
“This meatloaf is amazing, Lottie. Man, I miss your cooking.” Robert smiled at Lottie, bringing a tinge of pink to her bronze complexion. Then he turned to Zane. “So, how’s the herd looking this year?”
Zane swallowed his mouthful of food before responding. “Good. It’s been a busy spring, but we got the herd moved out to summer grazing pastures last week.”
And just like that, Robert effectively dodged Lottie’s lecture, because Zane, normally a quiet man, always had something to say about the ranch.
Jake scowled at Robert, who winked and snubbed his nose in the air. Robert had a way with women. Their mother and Lottie were no exception. Jake admired his brother’s charm and confidence, but he couldn’t let go of his serious nature. He worried more about how people felt than what they thought of him.
Talk shifted from the ranch to the accident and the woman’s memory loss. Jake and Robert both tried to draw Zane and Lottie’s son, Daniel, into the conversation with little success. The twenty-four-year-old had returned home a week ago with a broken femur after wrecking his motorcycle while driving intoxicated.
Jake worried about Daniel—okay, he worried about everyone—but Daniel had him especially concerned. Both his grandfathers were alcoholics, and Daniel seemed to be following in their footsteps. Jake didn’t know how to help the kid, since Daniel didn’t want help.
