The Soldier's Holiday Homecoming. Judy Duarte

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СКАЧАТЬ he’d quit writing to her and her last letter to him had been returned, he might not know that she’d quit.

      “From what I understand,” Betsy said, “he might have gone inside, but he never ordered a drink.”

      “So what happened? How’d he get hit by a car?”

      “The sheriff’s department is still investigating, so I’m not entirely sure. Apparently he was on foot. A bystander heard the squealing wheels and the thud, but only caught sight of the taillights of the vehicle. She called 9-1-1, and he was rushed to the hospital. But because he has no wallet, the only clue to his identity was the letter he was carrying.”

      “The letter?”

      “Apparently it was written by Dave Cummings and addressed to you. That’s why I called the ranch and wanted you to give us a positive ID.”

      “Where is he?” Chloe asked. “Can I see him?”

      “Of course. Come with me.”

      The doctor led Chloe through the E.R. door and along a maze of exam rooms until she reached a small area just off the nurses’ station and slowed to a stop. “He’s right here.” She pulled the curtain back.

      But when Chloe spotted the man lying in bed and took in his dark hair—clipped short but not in the customary military high and tight—as well as his olive complexion and square cut jaw, she froze in her tracks. His eyes were closed, and he had a couple of scrapes on a notably handsome face.

      While she’d like to be of help to the doctor, she realized that she wouldn’t be. “I’m sorry, Betsy, but that’s not Dave Cummings.”

      “Do you know who he is?”

      “I’ve never seen him before.” She certainly would have remembered if she had. Even asleep and with bumps and bruises, the man definitely aroused a woman’s soul and would leave a lasting impression.

      Upon hearing their voices, he stirred. When his eyes opened, her breath caught at the sight of their stunning sky-blue color.

      He zeroed in on her, and his brow furrowed. “Who are you?”

      “My name’s Chloe Dawson. You had a letter addressed to me.”

      He merely studied her, his gaze laced with confusion.

      “Do you know Dave Cummings?” she asked.

      “I suppose I should, since they tell me that’s who wrote the letter I had in my pocket. But the name doesn’t ring a bell.” He reached up and stroked his head, massaging the temple.

      “You could be one of Dave’s friends,” Chloe said. “I’d have to ask him, but I’m not sure how to get in touch with him. He was in Afghanistan the last I heard, although he could be back in the States now.”

      The handsome but wounded marine looked at the doctor, then back to Chloe. “Apparently, my brains were scrambled in that accident. And the pain medication the nurse gave me is really kicking in.”

      “Good,” Betsy said. “Maybe you’ll wake up fresh in the morning and remember who you are and what you’re doing in Brighton Valley.”

      “About that letter that was addressed to me,” Chloe said. “I’d like to see it. To be honest, I haven’t heard from Dave in months, and I’ve been worried about him.”

      “I don’t have it. The paramedics told me about it when they brought him in. From what I understand, the sheriff is using it as part of his investigation.”

      “You mean he thinks that letter may give him a clue as to who the driver was?” Chloe asked. “That doesn’t make sense.”

      “It was probably just a random hit-and-run. But they want to rule out any criminal motivation.”

      Chloe stiffened. Had there been a crime committed? Had the handsome G.I. Doe done something illegal?

      As if sensing Chloe’s concern, Dr. Nielson placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Sheriff Hollister used to be a detective with the Houston Police Department, so he’s just being thorough. He’s going to check with any witnesses or people working at any of the nearby businesses. He’ll get to the bottom of this—probably by morning, if not sooner.”

      Chloe hoped so. She couldn’t imagine how the poor guy must feel—injured, alone, confused.

      “If the letter doesn’t give us a clue to his identity,” Chloe said, “it might let us know where we can find Dave. He ought to be able to shed some light on the problem.”

      “So I take it I’m the problem you’re trying to solve,” the handsome marine said. “That’s a little unsettling.”

      “I didn’t mean to imply that.” Chloe eased closer to the bed. “Besides, I’d think that you’d want to get to the bottom of this.”

      “To say the least.” G.I. Doe blew out a weary sigh. “So how do you know that guy—Dave Cummings?”

      “I’m a family friend. I live on his ranch and have been house-sitting until he comes home. That’s all.”

      Betsy glanced at the chart in her hand, then back to Chloe. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to complete the paperwork to have him admitted for the night.”

      “All right. But under the circumstances—and assuming that he’s a friend of Dave’s—will you make a note of my name and number in his paperwork? I’d like to be kept informed about his condition.”

      The doctor addressed her injured patient. “Do you have a problem with that?”

      “As long as you don’t list her as next of kin, I’m okay with it.”

      “Why would it bother you to think that I was related to you?” Chloe asked.

      A slow grin stretched across his face. “Because you’re too damn pretty. If we were related by blood, I’d have to fight the guys off you—rather than fight to be at the top of your consideration list.”

      “Would you, now.” So G.I. Doe was not only handsome, but a flirt. She glanced at his left hand, checking for a ring and not finding one.

      Not that it mattered if he was already taken. She had enough on her plate these days without stressing over a romance.

      Still, he was more than a little attractive, even in his injured state. But she wouldn’t think about that now. The important thing was that he was her only link to Dave. And until Dave came home and could take over the ranch, Chloe was stuck in limbo and unable to get on with the future she had planned.

Chapter Two

      The ranch foreman, Tomas Hernandez, had just left for the day when Chloe’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She recognized the number to the Brighton Valley Medical Center and slid her finger across the screen. “Hello?”

      “Chloe? This is Dr. Betsy Nielsen. Joe Wilcox is in stable СКАЧАТЬ