The Heiress and the Sheriff Read Online Free PDF Page B

on the passing buildings and streets, hoping something might spark her memory. But after several blocks whizzed by, her spirits sank to her feet. Nothing about the city looked familiar.
    As though he were reading her thoughts, he asked, “Recognize anything?”
    â€œNo. But I have a feeling I don’t recognize this place because I’m not from around here.”
    His expression remained unmoved as he negotiated the pickup truck through heavy traffic. “I could have told you that yesterday.”
    She thrust a heavy wave of hair back from her face before fixing him with a stare. “How?”
    â€œYou hardly sound Texan. Californian, I’d wager. You have that West Coast look about you, too. Tanned skin, sun-streaked hair.”
    â€œI’m sure there are tanned women with streaked hair around here,” she pointed out.
    â€œYeah. But you’re different. And I think you know it.”
    She was different because she had amnesia! she wantedto yell at him. Instead, she asked, “What did you find in my car?”
    The pickup was a four-wheel-drive vehicle with a shift stick in the floor. She watched the corded muscle in his arm work as he shoved the stick into a lower gear. She instinctively knew he was a strong man. She could still feel the grip of his fingers on her shoulder when he’d steadied her in the hospital room.
    â€œIt’s in that sack beside you. That was all I could find. I’d say the only reason it didn’t burn was because it was sheltered by the metal glove compartment. Also I managed to find the VIN number on your car,” he said. “It’s being run through a computer.”
    â€œWhat will that tell you?”
    â€œWhere the vehicle came from. Who owned it.”
    A pent-up breath whooshed out of her. “Then you might find out who I am.”
    His lips twisted as he glanced at her. “You said you’re Gabrielle Carter. Is that not true?”
    He saw her fingers grip the paper, saw her gaze at the clump on her lap as though it was the only thing she possessed in her life. And maybe it was, he thought. The notion bothered Wyatt. Way too much.
    â€œI am Gabrielle Carter,” she said resolutely. “But who is she?”
    He motioned toward the sack. “Maybe that will give you your answer.”
    Slowly, she unrolled the top of the brown paper bag and peeked inside. “A book?”
    â€œMore than just a book.”
    Gabrielle carefully lifted the article out of the sack. The leather cover was charred around the edges and streaked with smoke, but the words on the front were still visible: Holy Bible. What had she been doing traveling with a Bible? she wondered. Was she a religious zealot? She didn’t feel like one. Then again, she was obviously spiritual. Several times in the past two days she had found herself silently praying. Perhaps the book was a family heirloom that she hadn’t wanted to part with.
    Trying to ignore Wyatt’s watchful eye, she quickly opened to the front pages of the book where a family tree would normally be registered. Her heart sank when she saw the entry lines were empty.
    She rubbed her fingers back and forth across her forehead. “What do you think I was doing with a Bible?”
    â€œWho knows? Maybe you came here to do missionary work.” His gaze cut a skeptical path from her neck all the way down to her feet. “But in that getup, I very much doubt it.”
    Her face flaming from his blatant inspection, she looked down at herself. Even though her black ribbed top had a scooped neck and no sleeves, there was nothing indecent about it. Nor about her jeans. The sandals were a little funky and the heels a bit high, but from what she’d briefly seen on a few women in the hospital lobby, they were in style.
    â€œYou have a certain image of a missionary woman?”
    The faint smile on his face was more smirk than anything. Gabrielle wished she had the strength and