She sank to the couch, propping her arm on top of the pillows. “Can I use your restroom?”
“Of course.” He smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand. “What am I thinking? Second door on your right down the hall. Do you need help?”
“I think I can make it.” She rose to her feet and headed for the hallway. She pushed open the door of the bathroom and held her breath as she squared herself in front of the mirror.
She sucked in a breath at the reflection that stared back at her. She flicked a strand of light brown hair as her brown eyes surveyed the unfamiliar face. No, not unfamiliar. Had there been a spark of recognition at the unexceptional features? Brown hair, brown eyes, slightly upturned nose. Nothing that would make her stand out in a crowd—she liked that.
She patted the clumped hair on the side of her head and gritted her teeth as she traced the bandage Rob had wrapped around her head.
He tapped on the door. “Everything okay?”
Oh, yeah. Just getting acquainted with my face.
Inserting a finger beneath the gauze, she said, “Should we take off this bandage?”
“I can replace that with something better. I have a whole first-aid station out here when you’re ready.”
She flung open the door and he jerked back. “I’m ready.”
“Worse than you expected?” He cocked his head.
“Better, a lot better.” She followed him into the living room and took her place in the little nest he’d fashioned for her on one side of the couch.
He’d arrayed bottles, bandages, water and an ice pack on the coffee table in front of her.
“Let’s replace that bandage. I can do a better job now.” He sat beside her and unwound the gauze from her head. He dabbed the edge of a wet towel on her wound, cleaning more blood from her scalp.
As he applied more antiseptic, she flinched.
“Sorry.”
When he finished with the bandage, he offered her two ibuprofen cupped in his palm. She downed them with the water.
“Now you need some food.”
Her gaze shifted from his face to the small kitchen behind him. “Don’t go to any trouble.”
“You won’t let me take you to the hospital. I can’t let you starve.” He jumped up and swept up several items from the table. “No trouble, either. I have some leftover albondigas soup and half a turkey sandwich I swear I didn’t touch.”
“That sounds good, but what are you eating?” She would’ve killed for a sandwich this afternoon, but she’d gotten used to the hunger clawing at her stomach.
As he walked into the kitchen, he glanced over his shoulder. “I ate dinner hours ago. You do realize it’s almost midnight?”
She didn’t know much, but she’d noticed the time when she got into his truck. It had been light outside when the car crashed.
“Just want to make sure I’m not stealing your leftovers.”
“Not at all.” He ducked into the fridge and pulled out a bag with one hand and a plastic container with the other. He tipped the container of the soup back and forth. “I’ll heat this up.”
She toed off her canvas shoes, dirty and filled with sand, and curled one leg beneath her. Releasing a long breath, she relaxed her shoulders for probably the first time since she’d awakened in that car. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Didn’t want to think about who she was and why two men were trying to kill her.
The beep of the microwave penetrated her thoughts, and she sat forward, her mouth watering at the spicy aroma of the soup.
After clinking around in the kitchen for a few minutes, Rob emerged carrying a tray. He set it on the coffee table in front of her and even shook out the cloth napkin and placed it on her lap.
“What service, but I feel guilty.” She waved a spoon at him.
“Don’t worry about me.” He backtracked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and twisted off the cap. “This is all I need right now. It had been a rough day even before I spied your car off the road.”
She paused in the middle of stirring the soup, the little whirlpool in the liquid mimicking her mind. “You saw the crash from the road?”
“I saw the smoke. I know that piece of desert like the back of my hand.” He took a swig of beer. “I’d offer you one, but I don’t think alcohol is a good idea in your condition.”
He had no idea. “Don’t think so, either. Water’s fine.”
“Can I ask you what happened out there? Was someone chasing you? You lost control?” He’d sat down in the chair across from her, rolling the bottle between his hands.
“Yes.” She blew on a spoonful of soup. Better to stay as close to the truth as possible.
“Did your ex see the car go over?”
“I think so.” She pressed two fingers against her throbbing temple. “I don’t remember that much about the crash and the aftermath.”
“And he just left you there?” Rob dragged a fingernail through the damp label on his bottle. “Damn.”
“He must have.” She lifted one shoulder and slurped up some soup.
“Where were you coming from? Where do you live?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “I’d rather not talk about it. Is that okay?”
“Sure, sure.” He tipped his head. “How’s the soup?”
“Delicious.” She scooped up another spoonful of veggies and tasty broth. “Did you make this?”
“No. A woman who owns a restaurant in town always makes up a batch for me because I told her it was just like my abuela’s.”
“Are you from...Tucson?”
“LA, originally.” His hand tightened on the beer bottle for a second. “I moved to Paradiso when I got hired on with the Border Patrol.”
“Paradiso?”
“That’s the town we’re in now. You must’ve seen the signs for it on the road up from...wherever.”
She nodded so hard, a shaft of pain skewered her skull. She
