Alec

I've lost track of time, and I'm not sure how long I've been in here. I keep drifting in and out of consciousness, still, everything still hurts. According to the doctors, I broke a couple of ribs, which explains why it still hurts to breathe.

The head injury is greater cause for concern. My memory of the time shortly before and after the accident is still fuzzy, and I still can't figure out if the girl was with me at the time or not. It bothers me that I can't remember her name.

The deputy has returned a couple times, asking me the same questions as before. He's found my wallet, and I've spent the last couple of days taking out its contents and spreading it out on the tray table. Driver's license, business card, pictures of my parents, pictures of the girl with some horse I don't immediately recognize.

I hear a tap on the door frame, and the doctor comes in, picking up my chart and scribbling some notes. He does his usual exam, checking my pupils, asking if I'm in pain, having me track his finger movements. He glances at the objects spread out on the tray table. "Any of this familiar to you?"

I nod, tapping on each picture in turn. "My parents, Belle and Bill. The girl…I still can't remember her name, but I know she's important. I just don't know why."

The doctor nods in response. "The rest of you is healing nicely. We don't have much reason to keep you here. Do you have somewhere to go if we release you?"

I shake my head. Even if I were to call my parents, it's not as if I could just catch a plane home. And then there's the matter of the Black. Besides, I'm not ready to talk to my parents just yet. I'm already dreading the conversation. I've taken off with our farm's prize stallion without saying anything, I've wrecked a truck and a trailer, and I'm out in the middle of nowhere.

The doctor frowns, making another note on the chart. "Have you made contact with your family yet?"

"Not yet."

"You should." He tells me. "The sooner you do, the sooner you can go home."

I'm not sure why, but part of me doesn't really want to go home. At least, not until I can figure out what the hell I'm doing here, and why I left in the first place.

"Knock, knock." Jill's cheerful voice carries into my room. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, I think?" I shift around a little, trying to get comfortable again. "They're talking about releasing me."

"I suppose you'll need somewhere to go for a while." She answers. "At least until you can make other arrangements."

Surely she isn't suggesting what I think she is. "I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother at all." Jill smiles widely. "Besides, we're taking care of your horse. We might as well take care of you, too."

I don't get why this complete stranger is so willing to take me in, but I don't really have another option. Still, I'm reluctant to take her up on her offer.

She seems to sense my reluctance, and she reaches out to touch my shoulder. "We take in all kinds of folks. Some are just passing through, others stay a while. Some have never left. You are more than welcome to stay as long as you need."

Finally, I nod in agreement. I want to see for myself that the Black is being well cared for. "I won't stay too long. We'll be out of your hair before you know it."

She nods knowingly, as if she knows something I don't. "Then I'll go have a chat with the doctor to see when they're ready to release you."

With that, she leaves, and I study the contents of my wallet again, hoping something, anything, will be the key that unlocks the reason I'm here. I'm stuck on the picture of the girl and the horse. Blond, green eyes, laughing as she looks over at the horse whose bridle she's holding on to. The horse looks a lot like the Black, but I know it's not him. It must be one of his progeny, though I can't recall off hand which one.

I pick up another picture, one with an older man holding the Black's bridle, a younger version of me perched in the saddle. This one I remember more clearly. The older man is…Henry. Henry Dailey. The picture was taken right after that match race in Chicago, the first race I ever rode in. I remember the feeling of whipping that helmet off my head, the wind rushing by as the Black flew over the track. I thought I'd never felt so free, almost as free as when the Black and I had been on that desert island.

I'd been riding and racing ever since, but few experiences had matched that first one.

I pick up the business card. I could make a call if I really wanted to. Maybe someone at home can tell me why I took off the way I did.

Jill and the doctor return as I'm putting everything back in my wallet. "Well, good news. Looks like if all goes well we can get you released tomorrow morning." The doctor tells me.

I'm relieved, already tired of being stuck in this hospital. Places like this have become all to familiar to me, having had more than my share of injuries on and off the racetrack, and I'm always glad to leave them behind and go home.

Only this time I'm not going home, at least, not right away.

Still, at least I have a place to go. I'm grateful again for the kindness of strangers, and I'll just make the best of things until I can figure out what the hell has happened to me.

# # #

Jill appears in my room just as I'm finishing dressing and packing up. I've had my first shower in what feels like days. A shave will have to wait for another time, as I seemed to have not bothered with packing a razor.

"There's a wheelchair available if you need it." Jill tells me. "Although it looks like you're moving okay on your own."

I'm moving very slowly. My head still spins if I move too quickly, and I still feel pretty banged up. Not to mention how weak the days in bed have left me. Still, the more I move, the better I seem to feel. "I'll manage."

I sign all the release paperwork and leave with Jill. It's a silent ride down the elevator and out to her well-worn pickup truck. I wonder what kind of condition the truck I drove out here is in. From the sounds of it, it's not drivable. Guess I'll be stuck here a little longer than I planned.

It's a brutally cold morning, but the sky is clear and the sun is bright. The brightness is painful, and I feel myself weave a little as I grab hold of the door handle. "Are you okay?" Jill asks, a note of concern in her voice.

"Fine." I recover quickly. "Just not used to it being so bright."

Jill laughs a little. "It is a beautiful morning. Just a little chilly. Does it get this cold where you're from?"

I have to think about that for a moment, trying to remember mornings like this. "Sometimes." I tell her. "I think we're usually down in Florida this time of year. Racing."

"Interesting." Jill nods.

We're silent for the rest of the ride, pulling into a set of gates that lead to the ranch. The Lost and Found, I remember Jill telling me. I keep an eye out for the Black, wondering if they know to turn him out in the morning, giving him as much room to run as possible.

Suddenly I spot him, big as life, his mane and tail flying out behind him as he runs, and I have a momentary flash, a memory of him running in the pastures at the farm.

"Those boys turn him out every day." Jill shakes her head. "Brice tells me he just loves to run and run. Just wears himself out, he says."

I'm glad that someone else seems to understand what the Black needs. I feel less guilty about dragging him out here with me on this ill-fated trip.

We pull up to a large ranch house, and Jill throws the truck in Park. I grab my bag, hop down from the cab, and follow her. "You can take off your boots there. Coat can go on the hook. I've already got a room set up for you."

I follow her through the living room, noting a few photographs on the mantle. They're mostly of a young man, one of him in an Army dress uniform, one in cap and gown from a graduation.

"That's our son, Eddie." Jill tells me softly. "Graduated from high school and went straight into the Army. Died in Vietnam a couple years later."

"I'm sorry."

Jill smiles sadly as she leads me to one of the bedrooms. As we pass one room, I hear someone playing guitar and singing. I think I recognize the voice, and a quick peek reveals the girl that was with Jill, her hair in long braids on either side of her head, deep in concentration.

"Miranda." Jill kindly reminds me.

"Your daughter?"

"No." Jill replies. "You could say she's a friend of the family. We have more than a few of those."

We arrive at another room, I assume the one she's made up for me. "This one's all yours. I'll leave you to get settled. And when you're ready to call your family, let me know."

I should at least try to call Mom. I think there's a fair chance she'll just be relieved to hear from me, and won't yell about the truck and trailer. But there's a risk that Dad will pick up, and I'll get an earful from him, I already know that.

In the end I decide to let it pass, and lay down on the bed. My head's aching again, the dizziness returning, and a little rest will probably do me good. I can always go check up on the Black later on.