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of numbers into his car phone, put it to his ear, and started speaking almost immediately. Her brother must have been waiting by the phone.
    “Sinjin, John here. She’s fine. Like the doctor said, she doesn’t remember anything. But she’s okay. Yeah, I found her late yesterday, but couldn’t call until now.”
    Lindsay could hear the relief in John’s voice as he spoke.
    “No, she doesn’t know anyone. But small things seem to be coming back.”
    He paused and Lindsay could hear the distant voice on the other end. No words, but a voice. An unfamiliar voice.
    “About four and a half or five hours. Hold the phone a moment. Lindsay, I’m going to have Sinjin call the sheriff in your county. He’s someone who knows you. You trust him. We’ll let him call the sheriff in Mac’s Crossing and tell him you’ve been found and you’re safe.”
    She nodded and listened to John explain things to her brother. Sinjin’s a strange name . She wondered how he got it.
    “Five hours? That long before we get there?” she asked.
    “It’s about 280 miles.”
    “I was a long way from home.”
    “Yes.” John picked up the phone again. She fought the urge to put her hand on his to stop him.
    “Who are you calling now?”
    “I need to call Derrick. He’s worried, too.”
    “You and I must have a very civilized relationship, for you to be so considerate of my old boyfriend.”
    “We do—as long as we aren’t fighting about your work. Derrick’s an all right guy.”
    John called Derrick and told him everything he had told her brother. He paused and handed the phone to her.
    “He wants to talk to you. He understands you don’t remember him.”
    Lindsay took the phone and put it to her ear, almost afraid to speak. “Hello?”
    “Lindsay. I—I just wanted to hear your voice. John says you’re well, except for—”
    “I’m fine, except for a few bruises. Really. I’m sorry I worried everyone.”
    All these people, she thought, so worried for her, and she didn’t know any of them. The conversation didn’t last long. With no memory, there wasn’t much to say. She replaced the phone and looked over at John, wondering what their relationship was like. He cared. She believed that now. She heard the worry in his voice—unless he was really worried about her regaining her memory.
    “What are you thinking?” he asked.
    “Why do you ask?”
    “You’re sitting there staring at me. I just wondered if you trust me yet.”
    “Almost. I’m sorry I’ve brought everyone such anxiety. You say I’ve gotten into trouble before?”
    He sighed and waved a hand in the air. “There have been times when you’ve been out doing what you do, and . . . if I had discovered you were really with another man, I’d have been relieved.”
    “Oh . . . I’m that bad at getting into trouble?”
    He nodded. “You’ve been in deep trouble before—shot, kidnapped, stabbed, lost in a cave, lost at sea in a hurricane—all really frightening and dangerous things. But, as bad as those things were, you’ve always come through with your intellect intact, never lost your memory this way.”
    His jaw clinched and his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “The thing that worries me—really worries me this time—is what could have happened that was so terrible you don’t want to remember?” He took her hand in his and looked at her. “It scares me. It scares me as much as when we discovered you were missing.”

 
    Chapter 5
    The Black Stallion
    LINDSAY WAS SNATCHED out of a disturbing dream by the bouncing of the truck. John had turned from the highway, and they were heading down an unpaved wooded lane. A strip of uncut grass grew in the center of the pastoral road between two narrow tracks worn bare by the travel of vehicle tires. The road seemed to disappear into a green wood ahead.
    “Where are we?” she asked.
    “Home. Your home. This is your property.”
    Home? It didn’t look familiar, but it felt right. She rolled down the