The Heiress and the Sheriff Read Free Page A

aren’t guilty?”
    She opened her mouth to defend herself, but then a slow, sickening realization struck her. She might be a criminal. She might be anything. She just didn’t know!
    â€œYou’re right. I can’t be certain of anything,” she said wretchedly, then dropped her head in her hands.
    Behind the wheel, Wyatt tried not to let the despair on her face soften him. She was a hell of a looker, but she could very well be up to no good. In his work he had to be suspicious of everyone. Personally, as a man, there was no woman he trusted. And he was doubly on his guard because of all the trouble the Fortunes had encountered lately.
    â€œYou have no idea what you were doing on the road to the Double Crown Ranch?”
    Gabrielle strained to remember, but all that came to her mind was waking up with the floorboard of the car pressed against her face and the smell of gasoline choking her.
    â€œNo. The name means nothing to me.”
    â€œDoes the name Fortune register with you?”
    She looked at him hopelessly. “If I’ve ever heard of it, I don’t know it now. Who are these people? Could I have been going there to do a job?”
    His lips thinned to a grim line. “That’s what I’m wondering.”
    The sarcasm in his voice stung her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    â€œNothing,” he said bluntly. “We’ll talk about it later. After you’ve seen a doctor.”
    That was fine with her. She was more than a little tired of his innuendos. The pain in her head was making her nauseated, and thinking more than ten minutes into the future was terrifying. She simply wanted to close her eyes and forget the laconic sheriff beside her. She didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that she knew nothing about Gabrielle Carter.
    A few moments later, his deep voice jerked her out of her jumbled thoughts. “I wouldn’t go to sleep if I were you.”
    She opened her eyes, but didn’t bother to lift her head from the back of the seat. “Why?”
    â€œIf you’ve got a concussion you shouldn’t sleep.”
    â€œI thought you said you were no doctor.”
    â€œI’m not. I’m just a lawman.”
    Her gaze lingered on his rigid profile. “Grayhawk,” she repeated. “Is that a Native American name?”
    He didn’t answer immediately. Finally he said, “My father was Cherokee.”
    â€œAnd your mother?”
    â€œWhite. Like you.”
    Even through the haze of her pain, Gabrielle picked up a sharp bitterness in his words. She wondered why, then just as quickly told herself it didn’t matter to her if he hated white people, or women, or even her. He was just one man in a big world. Once her memory returned, Sheriff Wyatt Grayhawk would be well and truly out of her life.

Two
    T he remainder of the trip passed in silence. At the hospital Wyatt escorted Gabrielle into the emergency unit and grabbed the attention of the first nurse he came upon.
    â€œCan he come with me?” Gabrielle asked as the nurse helped her into a wheelchair. She didn’t know why she wanted the sheriff to remain at her side. Only minutes ago, she had wished him out of her sight. Yet he was the only familiar face around her, and even if he was unfeeling about her plight, his presence was steadying.
    The nurse glanced at Wyatt. “Is he your husband?” she asked Gabrielle.
    â€œNo. But—”
    â€œThen it would be better if he didn’t. If he’s needed, I’ll come after him.”
    He cast Gabrielle a dry glance. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
    Even though the tone of his words was far from gentle, his promise calmed her somewhat. She nodded jerkily at him, and then the nurse wheeled her away.
    Wyatt watched her disappear down the hallway, then through a door on the left. For a brief second he almost followed and told the nurse he was going to stay with