“The roads get better after here,” Bryant said. “Less than an hour, I’d say.”
She turned to Emmett, and his heart thudded in his chest like a jackhammer. “Would you mind if I ride with Bryant the rest of the way?”
“I don’t mind at all, sweetheart. I also understand why you want to.”
“Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
Her lips felt good on his skin. Too good. Emmett thought about telling her he’d changed his mind and that she should ride down to town all the way with him. But Bryant deserved time with her, too. This was likely their last time together. He would have to be satisfied with seeing her in front of his brother in the saddle. He’d admired how quickly she’d taken to horseback. Another month at the ranch, and he bet she would be broncobusting on her own. His jaw clenched tight as he doubted she would ever be back in their cabin.
“You know we’re into sharing, sweetheart. Trust me, we’re going to share you for the rest of our lives and you’re going to love every minute of it,” Cody suddenly blurted out.
Her face clouded with a heavy realization. She knew, as did Emmett, what was likely to happen once they came directly in contact with her past. She was claimed. There was no doubt about that any longer.
Cody was grasping at straws, but he wasn’t about to try to tell his brother to toss his hopes aside. Let Cody have whatever fanciful dreams he needed to get through this nightmare. It would come crashing in on all of them soon enough.
Chapter Thirteen
Amber walked through the door to the sheriff’s office with Emmett in the lead and Bryant bringing up the rear. They’d been so careful with her, insisting that she be thoroughly examined by the town doctor. He’d given her a clean bill of health, as she knew he would. The doctor hadn’t seen any evidence of brain damage. He’d told her that her memory would likely return at some point. The concern Emmett and Bryant had shown for her made facing the truth about her identity that much harder.
The man behind the desk had to be Sheriff Wolfe, but who was the guy in the chair opposite him? An officer from Chicago? She found it strange that he wasn’t wearing a uniform.
“Jason.” Emmett shook the sheriff’s hand. Then he pointed to the chair next to the other guy, a few feet away from the stranger. “Sit, Amber.”
“Lubov moya, it is you,” the man said with what sounded to her to be a Slavic accent. The guy stood and reached for her, but Emmett and Bryant moved in front of her, blocking him from moving closer. “What the hell is this? Who are these two broken-down cowpokes, Sheriff?”
“Emmett and Bryant Stone, two of the three who rescued your wife, Mr. White.”
She gasped and her knees buckled under her. She would’ve fallen to the floor, too, if Emmett and Bryant hadn’t responded so quickly. Wife? This is my husband.
“They look a lot like gunslingers to me.” The man’s squinty eyes fixed on Emmett’s and Bryant’s weapons, still holstered to their sides.
Her cowboys guided her to the chair Emmett had just moved.
“Take a deep breath for us, Amber.” Bryant’s gentle command soothed her some.
“Her name is Kathy. Katherine White, to be exact.” The man claiming to be her husband remained on his feet but didn’t move an inch closer to her.
“It may be in that fucking report, but she’ll always be Amber to me.” Bryant’s entire body seemed like a loaded weapon, safety off, finger on the trigger.
Mr. White’s glances moved from Bryant and Emmett then back to her several times. He seemed cagey.
“I’m okay now,” she told the Stone brothers, though her heartbeats sped up with each passing tick of the clock.
“Are you sure?” Bryant asked, holding her hand.
“Relax,” she urged him, though doubting that, like her, either of her cowboys would be able to feel even the least little bit of ease at the moment.
“Do you recognize him, Amber?” Emmett’s question didn’t surprise her.
She turned to Emmett. He wasn’t looking at her but was instead sending an icy stare Mr. White’s way. If her cowboy’s gl
are had been daggers, her presumed hubby would’ve been sliced to tiny bits.
She shook her head. “I remember nothing.” Her big invisible wall remained fully intact, storing her memories on the other side, away from her conscious mind. “My name is Katherine?” she asked the stranger. “The report said ‘Kathy.’”
“It is your legal name, honey. Kathy is a nickname.”
“Usually a missing persons report uses a legal name and then lists nicknames.” Jason Wolfe rubbed his chin.