Buchanan's Pride Read Free

Randall to cooperate.
    His stomach lurched, sending bile into his throat and making him dizzy. He reached out a hand to the dash to steady himself and stared at his bloody knuckles. Was he a violent man?
    â€œYou okay?” Leah asked. “You feel sick? Try to hang on. We’re nearly there.”
    He nodded tersely. “I’m fine.” Well, it seemed he could lie if he needed. Somehow he’d have to persuade her not to tell anyone he was here until he figured out what was going on. So far she hadn’t asked many questions, but he doubted her restraint would last. She must be wondering, and he’d better come up with a plausible story or she would get suspicious.
    He’d figure out something, just as soon as his head stopped pounding.
    They were approaching some buildings illuminated by the light from an overhead pole. For just an instant, he panicked and thought about taking her truck and leaving. He’d have to tie her up so she couldn’t get to the phone.
    What the hell had gotten into him? The whole idea was absurd. She’d stopped to help him. The idea of hurting this woman made his stomach roll more alarmingly than before, and he had to swallow hard to keep from disgracing himself.
    His reaction gave him hope that he wasn’t a hardened criminal, but it didn’t rule out the possibility that he might have been involved in some kind of trouble. People got sucked into things they couldn’t control. Again that feeling of helpless frustration washed over him. His hands shook. Quickly he clenched them at his sides, the right one aching sharply when he did and pain shooting through his head. He sensed that on the other side of the black void lay something he didn’t want to face, but damned if he could get any kind of fix on what it was.
    As the woman braked the truck, a black-and-tan dog ran into the driveway, barking noisily. The man started to open his door. The dog, a big fella with shepherd blood, caught his scent and bared its teeth.
    â€œDuke!” she scolded. “Be a good boy.”
    Instantly, the dog circled around to her door, bushy tail wagging. A memory shimmered through John’s head and was gone again before he could grasp it. Did he have a dog? Was that why he knew this one was part shepherd?
    â€œCan you get out by yourself?” she asked him. “Duke won’t hurt you.”
    â€œI’m okay.” His head was throbbing badly now, nearly more than he could stand. If she saw his pain she’d insist on calling the doctor. Carefully, he eased himself out of the truck. Perhaps, if he could convince her he felt okay, she’d just let him bed down in the barn until morning. Surely his memory would return by then. He’d figure out what to do next and then he’d be out of here, thumbing if she couldn’t give him a lift to town.
    â€œCome inside,” she urged. “I want to look at that wound under better light. Have you eaten? Do you want some coffee?”
    Of course he couldn’t remember when he’d eaten last, just knew he wasn’t hungry. “No, thanks,” he managed to reply through the pain that was rapidly turning into a red haze. “I’d take a glass of water and some aspirin, though.”
    She smiled, just a gentle curving of her lips. Her eyes were a light clear blue with no hint of gray. Despite his pounding head, he revised his opinion about her attractiveness.
    â€œWe’ll take care of you.” She led the way up the steps of the small farmhouse and opened the front door. John noticed it hadn’t been locked and wondered why that surprised him. Did it mean he wasn’t used to local customs? That he really wasn’t from around here, just as he’d told her?
    When she switched on a light in the small living room, another wave of dizziness nearly toppled him and he squeezed his eyes shut.
    â€œSit down here,” she said, taking his arm and steering him toward a