I alone?” She moved her head gingerly, ignoring the pain, as she checked out every corner of the room. “You are alone and safe. I know your first name is Red, though I suspect it is a nickname. Can you tell me your full name?” “It’s—” She paused. “Don’t push it if you can’t remember. I’m sure your memory will return in good time.” Her memories were intact. She was Grace Eileen Henderson, eighteen years of age. But her name no longer fit. “Red Henderson.” She had a little sister, Belle, who was eight years old. Her lungs spasmed. She couldn’t get her breath. “No need to be afraid.” Linette rubbed her shoulder and soothed her with a sweet voice. But the panic would not ease. “I have to get back.” Without Red’s protection, what would be happening to Belle? Linette sat back and studied her. “But why? Ward told us how that man treated you.” She couldn’t tell the real reason. They wouldn’t understand. No one would. Her situation would only make good people like Linette view her with even more alarm than she did now. “Where’s my dress?” “You’re welcome to keep the one you’re wearing.” Red rubbed the soft cotton of the muted brown dress. No doubt the color would also mute her coloring, stealing some of the red from her hair, turning her complexion muddy. More than enough reason to wish for many more dresses the same. But she could just imagine how Thorton Winch would react to her wearing an outfit that covered her from neck to wrists to ankles. A great lump of longing swelled within her. If only she could own a dozen such dresses. “I would like my own gown back, if you please.” Linette hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Very well. I shall get it.” She slipped from the room. As soon as she was gone, Red pushed carefully to her feet and waited for the dizziness to pass. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she made her way to the window. The scene spun crazily. But she squinted to focus. She was in the second story of a house that sat on a hill overlooking a large collection of other buildings. This must be the ranch that cowboy had talked about. She eyed the barn and the horses corralled outside it. A cowboy with a rolling gait moved among the horses. She studied him. Was it the man who had kidnapped her? She’d tried to escape his clutches on the way here. Would he likewise try to prevent her from leaving? She could not allow it. “Here it is.” Linette stepped into the room. “Oh, you’re up. You shouldn’t be.” Red cautiously turned to face her. The red satin dress hung over her arm. “I’m fine.” “I regret I couldn’t get all the stain out.” She showed the dress with a faded brown stain on one side. “Thank you.” She clutched the dress to her as if it were something treasured. But it wasn’t that she cared about the dress. Only about not provoking Thorton. Bile rose in her throat. Oh, how she regretted her gullibility. She’d trusted the man when he said he was a preacher and could take her and Belle to his sister. They’d be safe, he promised. He’d lied. She’d never again trust a man. She shuddered. Two days. What had happened to Belle? She must leave. “I heard she was feeling better.” A man’s voice pulled her attention to the doorway and her cowboy rescuer. He’d given his name as Ward Walker. He was solid-looking with a thick thatch of black hair. “You.” She managed not to spit the word out. He grinned. “Yup. Me. Glad to see you have your memory back.” For two heartbeats she wished she didn’t, but the alternative was unthinkable. “Don’t expect me to thank you.” He chuckled. “Yup. I see you’re back to normal. You were mellow when you didn’t remember your name.” He shot a triumphant look toward Linette. “I told you she was feisty.” Feisty? He had no idea how quickly she’d learned to keep her opinions and objections to herself. She had to return to Thorton. There was no alternative.