Lone Star Christmas Rescue. Margaret Daley

down his face as he began to jog, not wanting to miss another ride. He struggled to drag in enough oxygen to fuel his body and to keep the woman cradled against his chest safely.

      One hundred yards.

      Catching sight of a white car approaching from the east, he accelerated his pace as much as he could without jostling the injured lady too much. He was within twenty yards when the SUV flew by, not slowing down. Drake continued toward the road that led to the Panther Junction Visitor Center, but at a walk. His mad dash to flag down the vehicle had awakened the baby and left Drake panting, his arms burning even more from the strain.

      He slanted a look at the little boy, whose mouth turned down. “Someone will come soon.”

      The baby jabbered back at him, any evidence of a frown gone.

      Drake guessed he liked the sound of his voice, so as he strode along the highway in the direction of the visitor center, he spoke softly about the animals he’d seen in Big Bend National Park. When he started telling the child about the mountain lion he’d seen in the spring, he looked down at the lady in his arms. Her eyes, dark like the baby’s, stared at him.

      “You’re okay. I’m Drake Jackson. I’m taking you to get medical assistance. I found you passed out.”

      Her forehead furrowed, and she winced. “My head—hurts.”

      “You’ve been unconscious since I discovered you almost an hour ago. What’s your name?”

      Pain flittered across her face. Her eyelids began to slide shut. “I—”

      Staring at her closed eyes, he murmured, “Ma’am?”

      A sense of urgency slithered down his spine. She needed help now, and he wished he had a fast way to get it.

      The baby whined.

      “She’ll be all right. We’re only a few miles away from the visitor center,” he said in a singsong voice, hoping to calm the little boy while in the heat of the desert wondering if he had the stamina to make it before it was too late. At least it was the first of December and cooler than other times in the park along the border with Mexico.

      A sound drew his attention, and he zeroed in on a red sedan coming toward him. Unable to wave the driver down, Drake moved into the center of the road, praying he would stop and take them back the way the vehicle had come.

      The car pulled onto the shoulder. The window slid down, and an older woman in the passenger seat asked, “Do you need help?”

      “Yes.” Drake glanced down at the hiker in his arms. “She needs medical attention as quickly as possible. Can you take us to the Panther Junction Visitor Center?”

      “Of course we can. Get in.” The older woman exited the vehicle. “I can hold the child.” After she unstrapped the little boy from the carrier on Drake’s back, she opened the rear door for him and then returned to the front seat with the baby.

      Carefully he slipped into the back seat, adjusting the injured lady in his lap.

      The driver made a U-turn and said, “I’m Clarence Moore, and this is my wife, Susan.”

      “I’m Texas Ranger Drake Jackson. I found this wounded woman and the baby alone in a canyon.”

      “Do you want some water?” Susan asked while the child drank from a plastic bottle.

      “Yes, ma’am. I’d appreciate it.”

      Susan bent forward and grabbed another water bottle, then passed it to Drake. “We came prepared with our own.”

      “Thanks. That’s always a good idea in Big Bend.” He took a deep swig of the cold liquid, relishing it as it slid down his parched throat.

      His gaze locked onto the injured woman’s open brown eyes. “Do you want some?”

      “Yes,” she answered in a slow rasp.

      Drake’s arm, tingling from numbness, held her torso up at an angle. Shifting to relieve that sensation, he assisted her in taking a drink. A flowery aroma mingling with the scents of sweat and dust wafted to him. He was thankful she was short and didn’t weigh much over 110 pounds, but he hadn’t been sure how much farther he could have carried her without taking a break.

      When she finished drinking, he swallowed another gulp, the whole time watching her as she peered at him. Assessing him, much like the baby had. On closer scrutiny, she and the child looked similar, more than he’d originally thought.

      “Who are you?” he asked again. Why did you have a young baby out in the middle of nowhere?

      A frown marred her attractive features. “I don’t know.”

      * * *

      Running. Gasping for air. Clutching a baby close. Images bounced around in her mind, then suddenly vanished. Her eyes popped open to a dimly lit strange place. She lay in a bed hooked up to monitors nearby.

      Panic—danger swamped her. She had to get out of here.

      She sat up. The room tilted and spun. She collapsed back onto the bed, closing her eyes to stop the swirling. Her stomach roiled. All she wanted to do was surrender to the darkness lurking close, but fear held her in the here and now.

      Where am I?

      Who am I?

      A sound penetrated through her mounting alarm. Footsteps.

      She couldn’t shake the sense of danger. She opened her eyes again and frantically searched for a button to push for help.

      “How are you doing, ma’am?” a deep male voice asked in a Texan drawl.

      A vaguely familiar tall, large man, dressed in tan slacks and a white cowboy hat, stood only a few feet away. Her attention riveted on the silver star pinned to his long-sleeved white shirt. Police? Why was he here? Her head pounding, she grappled for the call button and pushed it while scrambling to the far side of the bed, the railing trapping her where she was. That sensation skyrocketed her distress.

      “Who are you?” she asked in a quavering voice. Where had she seen him before? Confusion greeted that silent question.

      He smiled, two dimples appearing on his tanned face. “I’m Texas Ranger Drake Jackson. I found you in Big Bend National Park yesterday afternoon.”

      “Alone?” escaped her mouth. An image of him leaning over her flashed into her mind. The picture vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Why did she think they hadn’t been alone?

      “No. Do you know your name?”

      The dream that woke her up materialized in her mind. A baby in her arms? Sun beating down on them? Bright lights shining in her face? People around her? Was that real or her imagination?

      “Did I have a baby with me?”

      “Yes. Can you tell me your name? I’d like to contact your next of kin.”

      She had a baby with her. Did she have a husband? She rubbed the place where a wedding ring should be if she was married. Nothing. “I—I don’t know my name.”

      His blue eyes dimmed. “What do you remember?”

      Before she could answer, an older nurse entered her room. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’ll contact the doctor. In the meantime, do you need anything, miss?” The nurse approached her bed on the opposite side of the Texas Ranger, checked her vitals, then shined a bright light into her eyes.

      She delved into her mind, trying to recall anything that would lead to her identity and why she was in the hospital. But all she encountered was a blank slate, as though she’d never existed until now. “Where are my clothes?” Maybe they would indicate who she was.

      The nurse crossed to a closet and withdrew a paper sack. “Everything you had with you is in here. Do you want to go through it?”

      “Yes, please.” When she reached for