the wreck, hurrying because he was worried about the woman, worried what he would find when he got back to the cabin. He was digging in the back of the SUV, when a set of headlights suddenly flashed over him.
He turned. Out of the storm came the flashing lights of a Montana highway patrol car.
“Let me get this straight,” the patrolman said as they stood in the waiting room at the hospital. “You handcuffed her to a chair to protect her from herself?”
“Some of it was definitely for my own protection, as well. She appeared confused and scared. I couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t go for a more efficient weapon than a tire iron.”
The patrolman finished writing and closed his notebook. “Unless you want to press assault charges...that should cover it.”
Austin shook his head. “How is she?”
“The doctor is giving her liquids and keeping her for observation until we can reach her husband.”
“Her husband?” Austin thought of the hurriedly packed suitcase and recalled that she hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring.
“We tracked him down through the car registration.”
“So she is Rebecca Stewart? Her memory has returned?”
“Not yet. But I’m sure her husband will be able to clear things up.” The patrolman stood. “I have your number if we need to reach you.”
Austin stood, as well. He was clearly being dismissed and yet something kept him from turning and walking away. “She seemed...terrified when I found her. Did she say where she was headed before the crash?”
“She still seems fuzzy on that part. But she is in good hands now.” The highway patrolman turned as the doctor came down the hallway and joined them. “Mr. Cardwell is worried about your patient. I assured him she is out of danger,” the patrolman said.
The doctor nodded and introduced himself to Austin. “If it makes you feel better, there is little doubt you saved her life.”
He couldn’t help but be relieved. “Then she remembers what happened?”
“She’s still confused. That’s fairly common in a case like hers.”
The doctor didn’t say, but Austin assumed she had a concussion. Austin couldn’t explain why, but he needed to see her before he left. The highway patrolman had said they’d found her husband by way of the registration in the car, but she’d been so sure that wasn’t her car.
Nor had the highway patrolman been concerned about the baby car seat or the blood in the trunk.
“Apparently the baby is with the father,” the patrolman had told him. “As for the blood in the trunk, there was so little I’m sure there is an explanation her husband can provide.”
So why couldn’t Austin let it go? “I’d like to see her before I leave.”
“I suppose it would be fine,” the doctor said. “Her husband is expected at any time.”
Austin hurried down the hallway to the room the doctor had only exited moments before, anxious to see her before her husband arrived. He pushed on the door slowly and peered in, half fearing that she might not want to see him.
He wasn’t sure what he expected as he stepped into the room. He’d had a short sleepless night at a local motel. He had regretted not taking a straight flight to Bozeman this morning instead of flying into Idaho Falls the day before. Even as he thought it through, he reminded himself that the woman would have died last night if he hadn’t come along when he did.
Austin told himself he’d been at the right place at the right time. So why couldn’t he just let this go?
As the door closed behind him, she sat up in bed abruptly, pulling the covers up to her chin.
Her brown eyes were wide with fear. He was struck by how small she looked. Her unruly mane of curly dark hair billowed out around her pale face, making her look all the more vulnerable.
“My name’s Austin. Austin Cardwell. We met late last night after I came upon your car upside down in the middle of Highway 191.” He touched the wound on the back of his head where she’d nailed him. “You remember hitting me?”
She looked horrified at the thought, verifying what he already suspected. She didn’t remember.
“Can you tell me your name?” He’d hoped that she would be more coherent this morning, but as he watched her face, it was clear she didn’t know who she was any more than she had last night.
She seemed to search for an answer. He saw the moment when she realized she couldn’t remember anything—even who she was. Panic filled her expression. She looked toward the door behind him as if she might bolt for it.
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “The doctor said memory loss is pretty common in your condition.”
“My condition?”
“From the bump on your head, you hit it pretty hard in the accident.” He pointed to a spot on his own temple. She raised her hand to touch the same spot on her temple and winced.
“I don’t remember an accident.” She had pulled her arms out from under the covers. He noticed the bruises on her upper arms. They were half-moon shaped, like fingerprints—as if someone had gripped her hard. There was also a cut on her arm that he didn’t think had happened during her car accident.
She saw him staring at her arms. When she looked down and saw the bruises, she quickly put her arms under the covers again. If anything, she looked more frightened than she had earlier.
“You don’t remember losing control of your car?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know if this helps, but the registration and proof of insurance I found in your car, along with the driver’s license I found in the purse, says your name is Rebecca Stewart,” he said, watching to see if there was any recognition in her expression.
“That isn’t my name. I would know my own name when I heard it, wouldn’t I?”
Maybe. Maybe not. “You were wearing a watch...”
“The doctor said they put it in the safe until I was ready to leave the hospital.”
“It was engraved with: ‘To Gillian with all my love.’” He saw that the words didn’t ring any bells. “Are you Gillian?”
She looked again at the door, her expression one of panic.
“Don’t worry. It will all come back to you,” he said, trying to calm her even though he knew there might always be blanks that she could never fill in if he was right and she had a concussion. He wished there was something he could say to comfort her. She looked so frightened. “Fortunately a highway patrolman came along when he did last night.”
“Patrolman?” Her words wavered and she looked even more terrified, making him wonder if he might be right and that she’d stolen the car, the purse and the watch. She’d said none of it belonged to her. Maybe she was telling the truth.
But why was she driving someone else’s car? If so, where was the car’s owner and her baby? This woman’s fear of the law seemed to indicate that something was very off here. What if this woman wasn’t who they thought she was?
“Where am I?” she asked, glancing around the hospital room.
“Didn’t the doctor tell you? You’re in the hospital.”
“I meant, where am I...?” She waved a hand to encompass more than the room.
“Oh,” he said and frowned. “Bozeman.” When that didn’t seem to register, he added, “Montana.”