Page 7 of Serving my Dragon
“You must be Ms. Carmichael’s companion. The lady is free to leave with you as soon as she’s changed from her hospital gown.”
“What’s the verdict?” I asked.
“She appears to be suffering from temporary amnesia. The bruising on her body indicates it most likely occurred from a fall.”
“How long until her memories return?”
The doctor shrugged. “An hour. A day. Never. One can never predict in these types of cases. I would recommend she rest as much as possible.”
“Rest where though? She doesn’t even remember travelling here let alone the hotel she was staying at.”
“One would assume her family or friends would have knowledge of her travel plans and accommodations. Although, returning to her home without a passport could be complicated. I would advise contacting the American embassy but it might be a few days before she can get an appointment as they are short-staffed and busy, as am I. If you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to attend.”
The doctor left and I had the dilemma of what to do with Kayleigh. She obviously had a room somewhere, not to mention women rarely travelled alone. Surely her companions were missing her, assuming they’d not perished in whatever accident befell her. A call to the local police might be helpful. Perhaps someone had filed a missing person’s report.
A somber-looking Kayleigh emerged in her dirty clothes albeit with a clean face and brushed hair. “Hey, Matty.” She’d chosen to shorten my name to something ridiculous.
“How are you feeling?”
“Still lost.” She offered a wan smile. “The doc says I have selective amnesia. I can remember things from before I developed the amnesia, but nothing from right around or after.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to prescribe a magic pill to help me out. Guess you’re stuck with me a while longer.”
She assumed I’d be caring for her still. She would be right, since I couldn’t exactly abandon her.
“The doctor suggested you contact the embassy and your family.”
Her lips twisted. “No family to call and as for the embassy, I don’t have a phone.”
“I do, but it’s back at my place. I left it at home since the canyon doesn’t get much of a signal.” And quite honestly, I didn’t want or need to be disturbed when communing with nature. “Surely you have someone you can contact. Perhaps this friend you mentioned before?”
“If anyone knows why I’m here, it would be Sally. Only…” She sucked her lip before she admitted, “I don’t know her number off by heart because I usually just dial from my contact list.”
“I’m sure we can figure out a way to contact her. My place has internet so we can hopefully find it in a search. We’ll also call the embassy and the police.”
“Police?” she squeaked as we walked out of the hospital.
“In case you were reported missing.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
Funny how the mention of law enforcement frazzled her more than being brought to a strange male’s home. Then again, if I had nefarious intentions, I most likely would have already acted.
Despite my misgivings, we headed to my house. The situation just seemed so odd. Who came across a woman with amnesia in the first place? Who took them home? Who kept trying to pretend Kayleigh wasn’t immensely attractive?
Because yeah, I couldn’t help but notice. Nor could I even pinpoint what enticed me most. She wasn’t my type. I’d never dated a foreigner before and the only blondes I’d ever taken out had been the bleached kind. Usually, I dated lean and athletic women, not very curvy ones. Also, Kayleigh talked. A LOT. Giggled almost as much. A difference from the usually serious women I gravitated towards, preferring calm demeanors in direct contrast to the fieriness of my female relatives. None of my lady friends lasted. My longest relationship being just under three years before Isla broke up with me, stating it was her or my rambunctious family. I liked Isla, just not more than my mama.
“You never did explain how you ended up with a lizard,” Kayleigh commented.
Startled from my thoughts, I blurted, “I found her by the river half-drowned.”
“Aw, and you saved her and called her Polly.”
“Pollita,” I corrected. “Translated it means little chickie.”
“Cute. She’s awfully well-behaved and snuggly. I knew a guy with a snake once, but it was the kind that a hug from would have killed you. He had to get rid of it when it ate his cat.”
