5. Travis
5
TRAVIS
T ravis paced outside the same hospital door the next morning. He’d driven all the way from Blackwater just to dance in the hallway because he couldn’t make the move to knock on the door.
Why was he here again? Why had he cut his gym session short to run to Cody first thing this morning?
His phone dinged in his pocket as he made another turn in front of the door leading into the woman’s hospital room. Travis pulled out his phone and read the text from Dawson.
Dawson: No news. Sorry, man.
Great. The police knew the mystery woman’s name now, but Travis hadn’t even bothered to ask what it was. It was probably protected information. Besides, how would knowing her name help him? If Dawson and the Blackwater Police Department didn’t have any leads on a missing woman with her name, what could Travis possibly do to help?
He kept ending up at the hospital, drawn back here by a nagging sense of responsibility and concern. She’d woken up yesterday just before he left, but he hadn’t learned anything about her. Today, she had no obligation to answer any of his questions, but he was back anyway.
Travis sent Dawson a quick thanks and pushed his phone back into his pocket just as the door he’d been pacing in front of opened and a nurse with bright-red hair stepped out.
“Excuse me. I’m a paramedic, and I responded to the call about this woman’s incident. Can you tell me if she’s awake?” Travis asked.
The nurse smiled up at him. She was probably between the ages of fifty and sixty, but it was hard to tell beneath the colorful makeup she wore around her eyes. “She is. You know her?”
“Um, not really. Has anyone been to see her?”
Shaking her head, the nurse sighed. “Not yet. She’s having memory problems, so she hasn’t been able to give us the names or phone numbers of anyone who might be looking for her.”
Travis rubbed a hand over his beard. “She’s not remembering anything?”
“Well, she gave us things like her name and parents’ names, but she doesn’t remember anyone else. She lost her phone and doesn’t have identification.”
“She doesn’t remember her address?” Travis asked.
“She remembers one, but she knows it’s an old one,” the nurse said.
In the twenty-four hours she’d been coherent, that wasn’t a lot of information to go on. “Will her memories come back?”
The nurse shrugged. “It’s very possible, but head injuries are unique. There’s no way to predict how her recovery will go. It’s all in the Lord’s timing.”
Travis glanced at the door. “Is she awake? Do you think she’d want a visitor?”
The nurse grinned. “She just woke up, and she said she slept well. Now might be the best time.”
Travis gave the nurse a farewell nod. “Thanks for all your help.”
“Just page me if she needs anything. And remember, she needs rest.”
“Right. I won’t stay long.”
With that, the nurse headed down the hallway, leaving Travis with more questions than answers. He said a silent prayer for discernment before knocking on the door.
A soft voice from the other side said, “Come in.”
The room was bright and colorless in the morning light. The woman sat up in the bed with a large blanket draped over her lower half. A dark shadow bloomed around her eye, and a white bandage was taped to her temple.
Travis cleared his throat, trying his best to push down the swelling in his chest at the sight of her injuries. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” The woman’s eyes narrowed as her gaze raked over him. “Who are you?”
“Travis. I–”
“You were here yesterday.”
He stopped a few feet from her bedside. “I was. I was one of the paramedics who responded to the call when you were injured.”
The woman kept her attention fixated on him. “I remember.” She scoffed. “That’s about the only thing I remember.”
“I’m sorry you’re still having trouble with that. Our minds have strange ways of protecting us from trauma.”
The woman gestured to the chair propped against the wall. “Sit, please.”
Travis pulled the seat over and settled beside the bed.
“You’re saying I’m better off not remembering what happened?” she asked.
“I’m not saying that. Just that it was probably scary. Not sure you’d want to relive that nightmare.”
The woman stared at the colorless wall for a moment before turning back to him. “You don’t know me,” she whispered.
“Yeah, but you don’t seem to know anyone else. I’m having trouble forgetting about you.”
Her chin lowered, and she picked at a seam on the blanket. “You don’t have to come here just because no one else is. You don’t owe me anything.”
The brokenness in her voice was enough to strengthen his resolve. “You’re right, but I’m here anyway. I’m just worried about you, and I’m sure others are too.”
The woman let out a huff. “I’d like to think someone would have found me by now if they were really looking for me. Let’s face it, I might be alone.”
“I can help you find them. If you want me to. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll try my best,” Travis said, finding that it was a solid truth he’d already accepted.
A small grin tugged at one corner of her mouth. “Thanks… Travis.” She said his name slowly, testing the sound as she spoke. “I’m Isabella, by the way. Isabella Young… I think.”
Travis shifted in the chair as the question bubbled up his throat. “You don’t remember if you’re married?”