A Hero To Hold. Linda Castillo

Anything but the abyss of nothing her memory had become. “Do you think that’s my name? Hannah?”

      “Could be.”

      “Did I have identification when you found me?”

      He shook his head. “No wallet. Not even a driver’s license. Just the clothes on your back, which were ruined—sorry—and that note in your pocket.”

      Leaning forward, she pulled her knees to her chest. “This is nuts. I don’t remember…anything. How I got up on the mountain. Why I was there. Where I live. My entire life is just…blank.”

      Her mind raced in circles, like a rat trapped in a maze with no destination, no way out. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she looked at John, wishing desperately he could tell her something, anything that would help her remember. “How can someone just forget their entire life?”

      “It isn’t unheard of for head trauma to cause temporary memory loss.”

      The word temporary took her panic down a notch. She clung to it with the desperation of a rock climber to a safety line. “How temporary?”

      He shrugged. “I’m not an expert, but I’ve heard of cases where a head injury has caused amnesia.”

      “Amnesia?” The sound that erupted from her throat was half laugh, half groan. “That sounds like something from a soap opera.”

      “Last year we picked up a snowmobiler who’d gotten up close and personal with a blue spruce. He suffered a closed head injury. Took him two days to remember he was from Iowa. Missed his flight home and everything.”

      “Two days?” she echoed hopefully.

      “Look, Lake County may be a small hospital, but I did my training here. Doc Morgan is good. She’ll do what needs to be done to get you back on track, even if it means referring you to a specialist. But I’ll bet the farm your memory will return before you’re even released.”

      It made sense, of course. Unfortunately not even cold, hard logic could make the situation less frightening. Sighing, she looked down at her hands. “What’s with the bandages?”

      “You had some frostbite on your fingers and toes. There was some tissue damage, blisters mostly, but nothing severe. You’ve got some healing to do, but you won’t have permanent scarring.” Pulling the chair next to the bed, he straddled it and rested his chin on the back.

      The scent of his aftershave drifted lazily through her brain, conjuring notions of piney forests and mountain air. Her sudden awareness of him caused a ripple of pleasure strong enough to make her stomach flutter.

      “Was—was I in some sort of accident?” she managed after a moment.

      “We didn’t find a vehicle. Not a car. Not a snowmobile. You weren’t dressed for skiing or hiking.”

      “So what was I doing up on Elk Ridge?”

      For the first time, he looked uncomfortable. She got the distinct impression there was something he wasn’t telling her. Simultaneously, something dark and frightening jumped in the back of her mind, like a predator lunging out of the shadows, claws extended, fangs bared. The ensuing flash of terror sent a violent shudder through her.

      “You’re not telling me something,” she said.

      “Easy, Red—”

      “I see it in your face. You know something, but you don’t want to tell me.”

      “Don’t go jumping to conclusions on me.”

      “Keeping secrets from someone who can’t even remember their own name is cruel.”

      He arched a brow. “Look, you’re getting yourself worked up over—”

      “Yeah, well, I tend to get a little worked up when I can’t remember my own name.”

      She flinched when he leaned forward and put his hand on her forearm. Her first instinct was to pull away, but the gentleness of his touch stopped her. She looked down where his hand rested on her forearm. His fingers were thick and dark against her pale flesh. The man had fascinating hands, a doctor’s hands made rugged by the elements. Warmth radiated from him into her and spread throughout her body like a slow-moving current.

      “You’re shaking,” he said. “You okay?”

      Swallowing hard, she risked a look at him. The power behind his eyes jolted her all the way down to her toes—and made her remember what it had felt like to be wrapped within his embrace in the harrowing minutes they’d dangled from the helicopter.

      “I’m just…scared,” she said after a moment.

      “Everything’s going to be all right.”

      Looking into the startling blue of his eyes, she almost believed him. She wasn’t sure why, but this man made her feel safe. Yet even with the warmth of his touch searing her, she couldn’t shake the sense of danger pressing down on her. A feeling that told her she wasn’t safe no matter how badly she wanted to believe it.

      “I think something terrible happened to me up on the mountain,” she whispered.

      “How do you know that?”

      “I don’t know…exactly. I mean, I don’t remember details. It’s like a dream. Or a nightmare—” An image flashed in her mind, cutting her words short. The ensuing grip of terror was so powerful, she flinched. Images played in her mind’s eye, like clips from a horror movie. She remembered snow. The silhouette of a man against the glare of headlights. The feel of cold steel in her hand. The blast of a gunshot.

      Suddenly she knew why she’d been up on Elk Ridge—at least part of the reason. The realization settled over her as horribly as a handful of earth tossed over a lowered coffin.

      “I remember…” Her voice was thin and breathless. She wasn’t sure what she was trying to say. She didn’t actually remember. But as she fought to keep her voice steady, her hands from shaking, she knew someone had been pursuing her. Someone who’d wanted to hurt her. Someone who wanted to…

      John’s hand tightened on her arm. “What is it?”

      Raising her gaze to his, she fought back another rise of fear and let out a shuddery breath. “I think someone was trying to kill me.”

      Chapter 3

      John had known better than to come to the hospital. In the six years he’d been a search-and-rescue medic, he’d never crossed the line between professional duty and personal involvement. He’d sure as hell never visited a patient. Well, except for the time he and his team transported a woman who’d gone into premature labor during a camping trip and delivered a preemie while en route to the emergency room. Even then, he hadn’t actually talked to the woman, just checked with the nursing staff to make sure the five-pound baby girl was all right.

      So why hadn’t he been able to stay away this time?

      He told himself he’d only stopped by to deliver the note they’d found in the pocket of her jeans. After all, someone from the team had to do it. Why not him? It wasn’t like he was going to stick around. Or get involved. Just because he didn’t like the bruises on her neck or the possibilities behind the dark mystery surrounding her rescue didn’t mean he was going to get caught up in her plight or, God forbid, fall into the soft depths of those incredible eyes.

      He should just wish her luck, bid her farewell and walk away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d taken the easy way out. John Maitland had walking out down to a fine art. He was good at it. Almost as good as he was at not getting involved. He’d learned a long time ago the cost of personal involvement, and it had always been a price he wasn’t willing to pay.

      He just wished the nagging little voice in the back of his mind would stop telling him this time was going to be different.

      Who was he trying to fool anyway? He was a lot more interested in this