A Montana Man. Jackie Merritt
my identity. I must have had a driver’s license with me. Do you know if the police are checking that out?”
It was encouraging that she knew about driver’s licenses, but still Clint swallowed hard. Her question was one he hated answering. In fact, he was afraid of answering it. She would learn soon enough that the van and everything in it had been destroyed.
He hedged, telling no lies, but deliberately avoiding the whole truth. “The highway patrol is working on it.”
“When did the accident happen?” she asked. “I—I’m afraid I’ve lost track of time.”
“Yesterday.”
“Then they could very well know something today.” Sierra felt a surge of relief, certain once she knew her full name and address, things would fall into place in her befuddled brain. In the next heartbeat, however, she became doubtful again. If she’d had a driver’s license with her, why didn’t the hospital staff know her identity?
Her mouth became almost too dry to speak. “How do you know my first name is Sierra?”
“It’s the name you gave a doctor when you came to the first time.”
“I don’t remember doing that,” she murmured with a frown. “But why did anyone have to ask? I mean, if I had a driver’s license—”
Clint hurriedly interrupted, steering the conversation in another direction. “Do you remember my name?”
“Yes, Clint Barrow. Do you live in Missoula?”
“My son and I live on our ranch. It’s about eighty miles from Missoula. My wife passed away five years ago, so it’s just Tommy and me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sighing heavily, Sierra moved her gaze from Clint to the ceiling above her bed. “I feel so...unconnected. Where was I going? Where had I come from?”
“I wish I knew, Sierra. The road you were on led to Cougar Mountain. The accident occurred in a place called Cougar Pass. It’s very isolated country.”
“And I was alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
“I must have had a destination in mind. Your ranch is in that area, so there must be others. Maybe...maybe I was on my way to see someone.”
Clint readily understood her need for information, and the speculation that need was inspiring, but letting her think that road held any answers would be more cruel than helpful.
“Sierra, I’m sorry, but no one lives on that road. It leads to only one thing—Cougar Mountain. It’s a place that draws mountain climbers, hikers, environmentalists and campers seeking isolation.”
To his surprise, her countenance brightened. “Then I must be one of them!” she exclaimed. “The clues to who I am are in my van, I know they are. Even though everyone involved obviously missed finding my driver’s license, this is very encouraging. Would you happen to know where my van is now? I mean, was it towed somewhere?”
Clint was so glad to see Dr. North walking in at that moment he could have kissed him.
“Wide awake, I see,” the doctor said with a big smile. “Mr. Barrow, would you leave us alone for a few minutes? It’s nearly six and I’ll be leaving the hospital soon, but I’d like to examine my favorite patient before I go.”
Clint immediately rose in deference to the doctor’s wishes, but Sierra wouldn’t release his hand. And when he looked into her beautiful dark eyes, he saw a resurgence of panic.
“Don’t leave me,” she begged.
“I’ll wait just outside the door,” Clint promised.
Biting her upper lip, not quite succeeding in maintaining dry eyes, she reluctantly let go of Clint’s hand. He barely breathed until he was in the corridor outside her room. Never had he felt another person’s emotions as strongly as he felt Sierra’s. He was shaken through and through, and more than a little panicked himself.
Hurrying to the waiting room, he purchased coffee from a machine, then returned to the corridor to drink it and wait for Dr. North to complete his examination. The coffee was strong and hot and tasted good. Leaning against a wall, he drank it while pondering Sierra’s trust of him.
Dr. North finally came out. Clint pushed away from the wall. “I need to talk to you.”
Nodding, the doctor walked down the corridor with him. “Physically she seems to be doing very well,” Dr. North began. “But to be a little more certain than we are at this time, I’ve scheduled some additional tests for this morning. Also, Dr. Trugood, a psychologist, will be seeing her around nine.”
“I know you’re doing everything medically possible for her, Doctor, but she’s asking questions that are damned hard to answer.”
“Mr. Barrow, her state of mind is only natural in amnesia patients. I find her emotional dependency on you, a stranger, rather interesting, as I think Dr. Trugood will.”
“Is it unusual?”
“Frankly, I haven’t worked with amnesiacs enough to know. Dr. Trugood should be able to answer that question, however.”
“I guess what I’m getting at is you told me to avoid talking about the accident, which was impossible to do. She might not remember her past, but she’s a very bright woman and she’s digging for answers. Plus she’s positive that the things she had in the van with her—driver’s license, for instance—will reveal her identity. I told her about the accident—I had to—but I haven’t told her about the van and everything in it being destroyed.”
“I see,” Dr. North said thoughtfully. “I hesitate to instruct you not to return to her room, when you promised her you would, but if she’s counting on learning her identity from the contents of her vehicle, and you tell her there’s no way that’s going to happen...” The physician frowned and stopped walking.
“This really must be left to Dr. Trugood,” he said after a few moments. “What I’d like you to do is go back to her room and tell her that work, duty, family responsibility, something—use your own judgment on that—demands that you leave the hospital for a while. Assure her that you will return.” Dr. North cocked an eyebrow. “Assuming that you plan to return, of course.”
Clint’s mind raced. He felt the same mysterious bond with Sierra that she apparently felt with him. He didn’t understand it, but it was a driving force that he knew he couldn’t ignore.
“I’ll be back,” he said with a touch of grimness in his voice. “How about this evening?” he asked, thinking that he could call the ranch and have one of his men drive to Missoula and pick him up. It was a good idea, because he could then drive back in his own vehicle. Also, he wanted to see with his own eyes how Tommy was doing.
“I think this evening would work out perfectly,” Dr. North said. “She’ll be through with the tests and she’ll have talked to Dr. Trugood.”
“Will he tell her about the loss of her possessions?”
“I’ll call him and suggest that he does.”
“Well, someone’s got to do it,” Clint said rather sharply. “If she doesn’t know by tonight, I’ll have to tell her.”
“I understand. I’m sure Dr. Trugood will take care of it.” Dr. North glanced at his watch. “I have to be going. We’ll talk again.”
Clint watched the doctor stroll down the corridor toward the elevators, then he turned and headed back to Sierra’s room. His heart was in his throat. He was a simple man, and the situation was so far from simple it was almost laughable. At the door to Sierra’s room, he took a calming breath and erased the grimness from his face. When he stepped into the room he was wearing a smile. With his own eyes he saw the tension leave Sierra’s body.
“Clint,” she said with unabashed relief,