Sheri WhiteFeather - The Texan's Future Bride

The dashing young doctor was waiting for her on the wraparound porch. Tammy, her equally fetching cousin, was there, too. Jenna had only met Tammy recently, when all of the inheritance whoopla had begun. None of the heirs had grown up on the Flying B or visited when they were kids because their families had been estranged from each other. So, when they’d gotten called to their ailing grandpa’s bedside, and when he’d died, they’d wept for a man they’d just begun to know.

She glanced at the cowboy beside her. Now wasn’t the time to think about men she barely knew. Or death. Or anything bad.

Jenna stopped the truck, and Doc opened the passenger side and escorted the patient into the house.

Once Jenna exited the vehicle, Tammy approached her, and they went inside, too.

Doc didn’t waste time. He was already examining the stranger, who sat on the edge of a sturdy leather sofa, looking as confused as ever.

Jenna stood back and frowned. “Do you recognize him?” she asked Tammy. “Do you know if he’s from around here?”

“No.”

“Me, either.” But dang if he didn’t make her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t get his tortured attempt to touch her out of her mind.

Just a few feet away, Doc was telling the patient that he was going to need a couple of stitches. In fact, Doc was preparing to patch him up. But the cut itself was incidental. What obviously concerned Doc were his other symptoms.

Apparently Jenna was right. Indeed, he had a concussion.

Thing was, his identity was still unknown. He wasn’t carrying any form of identification; Doc checked his person.

“What do you think is going to happen?” Jenna whispered to Tammy.

“I don’t know.”

Neither did Jenna. But it was clear from the examination that he had no recollection about himself or how he’d gotten hurt.

After his cut was sanitized and stitched, Doc made arrangements for him to be treated at the local hospital. He spoke gently to the patient, then explained the situation to Jenna.

“I’m going to order a CT scan,” he said. “At this point, it’s impossible to know the severity of his trauma.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” she asked, making sure the stranger was out of earshot.

“Bleeding in the brain.”

She shivered.

Doc concluded, “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s get a thorough diagnosis first.”

“I want to go to the hospital with him.” She was unable to bear the thought of abandoning him.

“That’s fine. A police report will have to be filed, too, since we don’t know who he is or what triggered the injury. He’ll be admitted as a John Doe.”

Jenna didn’t like the impersonal sound of that. But she didn’t like any of this. She preferred to have her ducks in a tidy yellow row, with carefully laid plans, no matter what aspect of her life it concerned. She’d even created a list of the type of qualities she wanted her future husband to have, a man who would be nothing like her father. She used to be disappointed in her dad, but these days she was downright ashamed of him. A humiliating skeleton in his closet had surfaced.

She glanced at the stranger. Did he have skeletons in his closet, too? Even if he did, it was none of her concern. She was going to see him through this injury and forget about him.

Doc and Tammy took him to the hospital, and Jenna followed them in her truck.

She sat in the waiting room while he underwent the CT scan. Was she going to be able to forget about him? Already she was feeling oddly attached, as if she was responsible for him somehow.

She glanced over at Tammy, who occupied the seat next to her. “Thanks for keeping me company.”

“It shouldn’t take long. Rather than wait for a written report, Mike is going to look at the scans himself, along with the radiologist, of course.”

“It’s nice having a doctor in the family.”

Tammy quirked a smile. “Very nice.” She stood up. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“How do you take it?”

“Cream and sugar.”

“Coming right up.”

Jenna watched her cousin head for the vending machine. She was a petite brunette, thriving on newfound love. She and Jenna formed a bond when Jenna had helped her with a makeover that had caught the doctor’s eye. Tammy was a tomboy turned hot tamale. She could still ride and rope with the best of ‘em, but she also looked darn fine in feminine attire. The girl could cook up a storm, too. Soon the Flying B cook would be retiring and Tammy would be taking over as the down-home B and B chef.

Tammy returned with two cups and handed Jenna one. She took a sip. It tasted better than expected.

Jenna said about the stranger, “I can’t help but wonder who he is. What his name is, what his family is like.”

“Hopefully he’ll remember soon.”

“I just hope the scan comes out all right.” She drank a bit more of her coffee. “He said some weird things when we were in the truck. He told me that he liked my hair, then he asked me if we were on a date.”

“That must have been awkward.”

“It was.” She frowned. “What sort of treatment do they do if someone is bleeding in the brain?”

“I have no idea, but you shouldn’t be dwelling on that.”

“I know. But I’m the one who found him.”

“Finders keepers, losers weepers?” Tammy put her cup beside a dog-eared magazine. “Did you ever say that when you were a kid?”

“All the time. But I hope that doesn’t apply to this situation.”

“Like someone is left behind weeping for him?”

Jenna nodded, and they both fell silent. But it seemed better not to talk. Other people had just entered the waiting room with somber looks on their faces, as if they were afraid that they might be left weeping for whoever they were there to see.

Time ticked by.

Then Tammy looked up and said, “There’s Mike,” as her fiancé strode toward them.

Jenna got to her feet, with Tammy on her heels.

Doc said to them, “The results were normal, but we’re going to keep him overnight for observation.”

“Then what?” Jenna asked.

“Then we’ll reevaluate his condition in the morning.”

“Do you think his memory will return by then?”

“It’s possible. Oftentimes these sorts of lapses only last a day or two. But it could continue for a while. It’s hard to say.”

“Can I see him?”

“Once we check him into a room, you can visit him.”

By the time that happened, the stranger was asleep. Doc and Tammy went home, and Jenna sat in a stiff plastic chair beside his bed and watched him. She used the opportunity to study his features: dark eyebrows, a strong, sharp nose, cheekbones a male model would envy, medium-size lips with a bit of a downward slant. That made her curious about his smile. Was it bright? Crooked? Brooding? She noticed that he was harboring a five-o’clock shadow. The sexy scruff made him look even more like the cowboy she assumed he was. The hospital gown, however, didn’t; it robbed him of his edge.

He stirred in his sleep, and she frowned. Although he had a semiprivate room and the curtain was drawn, the TV of the older man next to him sounded in her ears. A game show was playing, a program that had been on the air since she was a kid. She’d never actually seen it, not all the way through. But she’d gotten used to hearing the noisy show in the background when her dad used to watch it, much like she was hearing it now.

Tuning out the sound, she studied the stranger again. Because she was tempted to skim his cheek and feel the warmth of his skin, she kept her hands on her lap. She even curled her fingers to keep them still. Being this close to him while he slept wasn’t a good idea. She should go home, but she stayed for as long as the hospital would allow, already anxious to return the following day.