The Sheriff's Amnesiac Bride

“Um…I guess I could do that.” She reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “But can you sit down first? I’m getting stiff just looking up at you. How tall are you anyway?”

Jericho found a chair and dragged it over while Doc moved to sit behind his desk. “Six-three.” They both sat. “There you go, Red. Is that better?”

“Yes, thanks.” Lost and feeling vulnerable, even in the presence of someone as safe as the sheriff, the woman had to take deep breaths in order to calm herself down.

“Did you just call her ‘Red,’ Sheriff?” The doctor was scowling over his desk pad.

The sheriff looked perplexed. “Well, I suppose. We’ve got to call her something. ‘Hey you’ just won’t do and she has all that bright red hair. Seemed to work.”

“Bright red hair? Do I?” She put her hands in her hair. “But that doesn’t feel right.”

“Don’t upset yourself by trying to force the memories of your lost past,” the doctor said soothingly. “Not yet. Give it some time.” He turned back to address the sheriff. “Jericho, I want you to take things slow. Pushing her to remember will only make it worse.

“Oh, and I don’t believe ‘Red’ is the least bit feminine,” the doctor continued. “It doesn’t fit this beautiful young woman and it doesn’t sound respectful to me. Can’t we come up with something else?”

Still with her hands in her hair, she worried that more seemed wrong with it than just the wrong hair color. Though God only knew what she meant by that.

“Okay, Doc,” the sheriff conceded. “How about ‘Rosie?’ That’s in the same color type.”

“Rosie’s okay with me,” she agreed quickly. The name didn’t nauseate her nearly as much as the wrong feeling about her hair.

“Okay, Rosie,” the sheriff said with a deliberate drawl and a tight smile. “You can call me Jericho. Now tell me what you do remember.”

She wasn’t sure she could do this. Every time she thought of how terrifying those men had been, her whole body started trembling. Looking up at Sheriff Jericho for support, she was surprised to find an odd softness in his eyes as he waited for her to speak.

She’d thought he had looked so tough. Scary-tough, with all his hard angles and rough edges, when he’d first walked into Dr. O’Neal’s office. Now, it seemed that at least his eyes held some empathy toward her, and the idea made her relax a little.

“The…um…first thing I remember clearly is two men pushing me around. One was pointing a gun at me while the other kept shaking me by the shoulders, hard. I felt as though I’d just woken up from a deep sleep. But now I’m not sure that was the case.”

“And these two men didn’t look familiar?”

“Not at all.”

“Where was this? What do you remember of your surroundings?”

“After a few minutes, I decided it had to be a cheap motel room. But I…never found out whose.”

“Okay,” the sheriff said as he rubbed a thumb across his neat mustache. “Don’t strain for answers. Let’s just take this nice and easy.”

She must’ve been wearing a frown as she’d tried to bring the images to the front of her mind because that tender look had returned to Jericho’s eyes. “Can you tell me what the men said to you?” he asked gently.

“Oh, yeah. They wanted to know where some special thing was.” At his curious expression, she shrugged her shoulders. “I never found out what the ‘thing’ was they were looking for. But they said I had stolen it and their boss wanted it back.”

“You believe what they were saying was the truth? Like perhaps you had stolen something?”

Yeah, God help her, it kinda did. But with that strange thought, she began shuddering again. A lone tear leaked from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know.”

“Sheriff…” The doctor cautioned him with his tone.

Jericho scowled briefly then nodded. “Sorry, Doc. I won’t push.

“Okay, Rosie, what did the men say or do after you couldn’t give them what they wanted?”

She sniffed once and wiped her hand across her face. “They beat me up a little. You know, like slapping me and punching me in the arms and shoulders. And the whole time they kept demanding that I talk. I was so scared they were going to kill me that what they were doing hardly even hurt.”

The doctor cleared his throat. The sheriff fisted his hands on his knees.

“What did they say then?” Jericho asked in a rough voice.

“Finally, they looked at their watches and said I was going to go with them to see the boss. That he would make me tell where it was. Then they pushed me outside and into the backseat of their car.”

“Did anything outside look familiar?”

Dr. O’Neal huffed and opened his mouth to chastise the sheriff’s choice of words.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry again,” Jericho put in quickly. “What I meant was, what did it look like outside the motel room?”

“I couldn’t see much. But what I did see wasn’t anything special. Like the poor side of lots of small towns, I guess.” Now how would she know that? She couldn’t even come up with her own name and yet she knew what the poor side of town would look like?

The sheriff gave her an odd look. “Do you know where you are now?”

“Your deputy told me. Esperanza, Texas.”

“Does that hold any meaning for you?” Jericho glanced over at the doctor and then held up his hand in self-defense. “Don’t answer that, Rosie, not unless something comes to you. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Jericho was more than a little frustrated. He didn’t want to hurt her by asking the wrong questions. But the only way he could help her was by getting answers. He promised to think longer before he opened his mouth.

“Okay. Let’s get back to the men. Can you describe them?”

“I guess so.”

But while Jericho watched her open her mouth to try, he noted her wincing as another one of those slashing pains must’ve struck her in the head. “Never mind. Give it a rest for tonight. We’ll try it in the morning. In fact, if you’re feeling well enough by then, you can go through mug shots.”

Rosie sighed and her shoulders slumped. She glanced up at him from under long, thick lashes with a look so needful, so vulnerable, that it was all he could do not to sweep her up in his arms and keep her bogeymen at bay. He’d never before acted as some female’s sole link to the world and to safety. He was just a county sheriff. But whatever had frightened her badly enough to erase her memories needed to be dealt with soon. He vowed to be the one to take care of it.

“Jericho,” Doc interrupted his thoughts. “Rosie needs a good night’s sleep. We’ve determined that she doesn’t have a concussion, but we haven’t got any place to make her comfortable here. What can you do for her?”

“Leave this place?” Rosie folded her arms over her very generous chest in a self-protective move that stirred his own protective instincts even further.

There were no motels in Esperanza. The nearest one was a half hour away. It was too late to call anyone in town to find her a place for the night.

“But what if those goons come looking for me again?” Rosie’s voice was shaky and her eyes wild and frightened again. “Will they? Do you think it’s possible?”

Hell. It actually was a possibility that those men might double back and finish what they’d started. Rosie needed to be in protective custody. But where could he be sure she would be safe and comfortable? The deputy’s substation in town had only a small holding cell. That would never do.

“Don’t you worry, ma’am. You’re coming home with me. You’ll be perfectly safe and comfortable there. I’ve got a spare bedroom and it’s all made up.” Had he really just said that? He stood up and stretched his legs.

“Your spare room should be okay, Jericho,” Doc said. “But there’s something I must tell you both first.