Page 2 of The Outlaw's Code

“You don’t remember being on a horse?”

Calder shook his head, his eyes wide. “I… don’t remember anything.”

“Short term memory loss,” I murmured, while shifting closer to him. “It’s going to be all right. That just means you hit your head extra hard. But we can help.”

“What’s your… who are you?”

“I’m Shane. Shane Stratton,” I replied. “We’ve worked together before, at Stratton Ranch. We weren’t super close or anything, so you might not remember me. I mean, even if you had all your memory working right now.”

“And you said my name is… Calder?”

“Yep. It’ll all come back to you. Don’t worry.”

“Calder…” he repeated to himself, under his breath. “Calder…”

And then, without another word, he slipped back into unconsciousness, his body slumping against the wet ground.

“Calder?”Levi said, as he stood next to Calder on the couch. We’d brought him into the main house, carefully moving his body indoors. Levi was cool and collected during the whole thing, which was expected. It probably helped that he ran an emergency rescue company, Big Sky Rescue. He was used to helping people like Calder, still unconscious, still covered in mud.

“He’s been on the ranch a few times,” I replied, my eyes watching Calder for any sign of wakefulness. “Seasonal work mostly.”

“Hmm.” Levi hummed before he searched Calder’s pockets. He pulled away from him, disappointed. “No wallet there. Did you already search his saddlebag? I put it on the living room table.”

“Not yet.” I hastily made my way towards the living room table, jumping into action. I gingerly dumped its contents onto the table, but there wasn’t a wallet anywhere to be found. The only thing of note was an oilskin pouch that had quietly plopped onto the wooden table. I opened the pouch, slipping out the only thing that was inside: a worn photo of a woman with her arms draped around Calder’s shoulders.

I brought the photo back to Levi. He hummed again as he took it between his fingers. “This was the only thing he had on him? Really?”

“Pretty much.”

“But you recognized him from the ranch?” Levi’s eyes met mine. “Do you know if he has a wife or girlfriend?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that he’s straight, so sure.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s safe to assume anyone’s straight these days.” Levi playfully winked in my direction. “But we should probably see if we can figure out who she is? She might live in town for all we know?—”

“Safe to assume who lives in town?” my uncle, Joseph Stratton, stepped into the room, his usual scowl in place. He stopped a few feet away from Calder on the couch. “Who is this? What trouble have you two brought to my door?”

“No trouble here, Dad.” Levi waved his hand. “Just someone we found put out during the storm. It looks like he hit his head. Probably fell off his horse.”

Joseph shot Levi a withering look. “Then take him to a hospital. We don’t need the scandal of a random cowboy dying in our home.”

“Can’t we use one of the doctors here instead?” I pressed. “Please? I can already tell that he’s having memory problems, and if we move him again—I’m just worried?—”

“Fine.” Joseph turned his growing ire towards me. “But if the doctor recommends we move him to the hospital, that’ll be it. No further discussion.”

Joseph left the room, not sparing either of us another glance. A few moments later, one of Joseph’s private doctors came to greet us. Joseph was generally a healthy man, but he was getting older, and as the patriarch of the family he always liked to play his cards close to the chest. We didn’t suspect he had any health issues, but we honestly would’ve never known if he did.

It was one of his ways of maintaining control of the ranch, by keeping us in the dark. Still, I was grateful that he was sparing someone from his personal staff for the sake of Calder.

A woman with a bright smile greeted us before walking over to him on the couch. She checked his heartbeat, his temperature, and shone a light in his eyes. She then spent a few minutes just observing him, like she was waiting on something to be revealed. When she was finished, she came back over to us, her expression neutral.

“Pupil reflexes are good. So, possibly no brain damage,” she continued. “I’m guessing he has a concussion. Joseph said he fell off his horse?”

“We think so, yeah.”

“Okay. In that case, unless one of you wants to play babysitter for the next few days, the hospital should be able to watch him?—”

“I can play babysitter,” I casually volunteered, my hand already up in the air. “I mean, I don’t mind watching him, if he needs to be watched.”

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