Free The Deputy's Lost and Found by Stella Bagwell Page A

gown had her eyes flying open and her hands quickly snatching the cover up to her chin.
    “Brady! What…are you doing in here?”
    Grinning as though he was pleased with himself, he gestured toward the nightstand and a tray holding a small insulated coffeepot, a fragile china cup and saucer, cream pitcher, sugar bowl and a small branch covered with red blossoms.
    “What is that?” she asked.
    “Coffee. I took it for granted that you liked it. But if you’d rather have tea, I’ll have Reggie prepare another tray.”
    With a death grip on the sheet, she propped herself against the headboard. A dose of caffeine to wake her up was hardly needed, she thought, when just looking at him was already making her heart pound. “No. I love coffee. I was talking about the flower.”
    “Oh. That.” He picked up the branch of blossoms and handed it to her. “I don’t know what it is. I broke it off oneof the bushes in Grandma’s flower garden. Because it was pretty. And I thought you might like it.”
    Lass lifted the flowers to her nose, while an awkward feeling suddenly assaulted her. She didn’t know why having Brady see her in bed was bothering her. It wasn’t like it was the first time. But that had been a narrow hospital bed and she’d been garbed in a thick, unflattering cotton gown. Now she was in an opulent bed wearing a piece of red silk that revealed every curve of her body. And he was giving her flowers as though she was special.
    Keeping her eyes carefully on the red, trumpet-shaped blooms, she said, “I do like it. Very much. But Kate’s going to get you for meddling with her flowers.”
    He chuckled. “She’ll forgive me. Especially if I tell her I did it for you. She likes you. I can tell. And Grandma doesn’t just take to any and everyone.”
    Turning away from her, he poured the cup full of coffee. “Cream? Sugar?”
    It felt ridiculous having this macho man of a lawman standing beside her bed, serving her as though she was a princess. Yet it also made her feel cared about and very special. Was that his motive? she wondered. Or was he this way with all the females who visited the Diamond D?
    “Just a little cream, please. But I can do it,” she insisted. “You don’t need to do…all of this for me.”
    “Why not? I’m here and I’m capable.”
    Thrusting her disheveled hair from her face, she placed the flower on her lap and took the cup he offered. While she sipped, he pulled the chair away from the vanity, positioned it next to the bed and took a seat. This morning he was dressed in faded jeans and a black, short-sleeved polo shirt and though his hair was combed neatly back from his face, she could see a hint of rusty whiskers shadowing hischin and jaw. That and the faint lines beneath his eyes were the only signs that he’d had a late night.
    “Tell me, Brady, do you do this for all house guests that come to the Diamond D?” she asked as she peered demurely at him over the rim of her cup.
    He grinned. “Only the ones I want to leave a lasting impression on,” he teased, then his expression sobered. “You have a concussion. You need to be taking it easy.”
    Unconsciously, her fingertips fluttered to the stitched wound hidden by her hair. “Bridget says I can move around. As long as I don’t rush or exert myself. And I’m feeling much stronger today.”
    “That’s good. Real good.”
    He stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed his ankles as though he was planning to stay there for a while. Apparently it didn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable to visit a woman’s bedroom. But then a man who looked like him had probably had plenty of practice at it, she thought.
    “We…were all worried about you last night,” she murmured. “I’m glad to see you made it safely back home.”
    He simply looked at her, his eyes warm and appreciative. “It was nothing to get worked up about. Just a little scuffle. A man with a gun got upset and went a little off the beam.