eyebrows arched. “Lady, that is the biggest understatement I’ve heard in years.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Undoubtedly. Well, we’re almost there, as you can see,” Travis said, making a turn onto a dirt road. “Maybe you’ll feel more like talking to Cleo.”
Searching recent memory brought only confusion. “Cleo?”
“My aunt. She stayed on with me after my dad and his brother Jim both died and I inherited the ranch. I needed help and Cleo needed a place to live where she felt useful.”
“Oh. I see.”
Emma closed her eyes, letting her thoughts drift. When she tried to focus on anything in the weeks prior to her flight from the locked door, dense clouds masked the memories like a fog bank lying in the bottom lands along the river on a damp Ozark morning.
The truth was there somewhere. It had to be.
All Emma had to do was wait until the mist lifted. Trouble was, she didn’t know where the haziness had come from or how long it was going to last. All she could hope for was that being with Travis Wright would heal the unseen damage to her emotions.
If it did not, she didn’t know how she would survive in a world filled with shadows of menace that might cost her her life.
* * *
The sight of the familiar redbrick ranch house with its white metal roof lifted Travis’s spirits. It was always good to come home, even now, when he was probably bringing trouble with him.
Given Emma’s current unpredictability, he was glad Cleo would be there, particularly because he was teetering on the edge of his self-control and getting far too close to making a fool of himself over Emma. Again.
He drove past the barn and parked behind the house before he honked to add to the barking welcome his four dogs were giving him. As he had hoped, the sound of the horn brought his middle-aged aunt to the door.
The salt-and-pepper-haired woman was wiping her hands on a kitchen towel as she stepped onto the porch. “What’s wrong, Travis?”
“We have company.” After quickly circling the truck with the pack of dogs at his heels, he opened Emma’s door for her.
“Oh, my stars!” Cleo sounded ecstatic. “What a wonderful surprise.”
She was down the porch steps and hurrying toward Emma in mere seconds. When she got close enough to see the girl’s face, however, she stopped and stared, then looked to her nephew. “What happened?”
“Don’t know. She was sitting in my truck when I finished at the auction. I have no idea where she came from or how she got there. She said she hitchhiked back to Serenity.” He made a face that mirrored his frustration. “Maybe you can get her to tell you more.”
“Did you call the sheriff?” Cleo asked.
Emma said her first word to the older woman then. “Don’t.”
“All right, honey. First we’ll get you showered and into some clean clothes. Then we can have a bite to eat. You’ll feel more like yourself after that.”
With a sheltering arm around Emma’s shoulders, Cleo guided her toward the house while Bo, an arthritic, aged bluetick hound, tagged along.
“Bring her suitcase,” Cleo called back.
“There isn’t one. What you see is all you get,” Travis said flatly. “If you don’t have any clothes that will fit her, I can make a run into town.”
“I think you’d best stay here for now.” His aunt shot him a look of concern before adding, “Just in case.”
Travis could understand Cleo’s trepidation because he shared it. Whatever was wrong with Emma was not simple; nor was it likely to pass quickly. He didn’t know much about the workings of the human mind, but he’d seen plenty of animals who had never recovered from being ill-treated.
One of the mixed-breed dogs he’d rescued from the local shelter was like that. Normally, she acted just like the rest of the farm’s pack, but accidentally do something that set her off and she’d start to tremble uncontrollably.
He and Cleo had never laid a hand on that dog. It didn’t matter. There was a scar in the canine’s mind that overrode all the kindness they had shown since they’d adopted her.
Travis covertly studied Emma as he followed the women toward the house. Emma was damaged, too. Perhaps severely. And it was going to be up to him to help her heal.
“With the Lord’s help,” he muttered. “I don’t think I can be objective enough to do it alone.”
His musings were disturbed when the three dogs that had stayed outside with him suddenly leaped off the back porch and raced around the house, barking.
Travis stiffened. The pack sounded angry, defensive rather than excited about chasing prey the way they did when one of them scented a raccoon or a possum.
Anyone who had owned dogs could tell the difference in their barks. And anybody who lived in the country knew better than to venture out unarmed when his dogs sounded an alarm like that.
Travis burst into the kitchen, startling Cleo and Emma. Only old Bo, the dog that had stayed with the women, seemed aware that something was amiss.
“Stay in here and lock the doors,” Travis ordered. He reached onto the top of a kitchen cabinet for a pistol and checked that it was loaded. “I’m going to go see what’s got the dogs so upset.”
“Be careful,” Cleo warned. “Could be a two-legged skunk.” She pulled Emma closer. “Isn’t that right, girl?”
The last thing Travis saw as he ducked back out the door was tears pooling in Emma’s wide, blue eyes.
* * *
Emma was desperately worried about Travis. She didn’t let herself be shepherded out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the second story until Cleo suggested they’d have a better view of the surrounding terrain from up there.
The older woman proceeded to a bedroom window and beckoned. “Take a look from over here.”
As soon as Emma was by her side, Cleo began to point. “There’s the lane you came up just now. Beyond the creek is the Hall place. A lot of their kin live hereabouts, too.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember,” Emma said softly.
“That’s okay. It’ll come back to you.”
Leaving that room, Cleo led Emma to the opposite side of the house and raised the bedroom blinds. “Down there’s the barn and Travis’s rig. See? I keep my town car in the barn so’s it won’t get dusty.” She smiled. “Not that that helps a whole lot around here.”
“Where’s Travis? I don’t see him.”
“Maybe out behind. Depends on where those fool dogs led him.”
“You don’t seem very worried.”
“My nephew can take care of himself. It’s you I’m concerned about.” She lowered her voice in spite of the fact they were alone in the house. “Are you just embarrassed to speak of it or have you really got amnesia?”
“I can’t remember much,” Emma admitted. “Some things are crystal clear, like knowing Travis by sight when I saw him in town. If I had amnesia, I wouldn’t have known that, would I?”
“Beats me. I’ve got a nurse-practitioner friend who might be able to say. How about if I call her?”
“Maybe later. I’d like to clean up and rest first, if you don’t mind.”
“’Course. Where’s my manners? I’ve got a brand-new jogging suit that should fit you. My sister sent it to me last Christmas,” Cleo said, taking a clean towel out of