EPISODE ONE

HER FEELINGS

(Romance)

EPISODE ONE

Smith Rutledge glanced up from his macaroni and cheese to spot a young woman in khaki shorts, an oversize shirt and a bucket hat. She was holding her food tray and looking around for an empty table in the crowded Harlingen,Texas,cafeteria.

Nice legs had been his first thought, his interst aroused. He was admiring the rest of the package when her scan of the room stopped on him.

Their gazes met, locked, and he was halfway to his feet to offer her a place at his table when her eyes widened and a horrified expression blanched her face.

"Tom!" She cried. Her eyes rolled back, and both she and the tray crashed to the floor.

On her heels was a hulking biker with tattos on both beefy forearms. He slipped and slammed down on top of her, his overladen tray hitting her as well.

The nosiy room went suddenly quiet. Everybody but smith seemed to be in suspended animation. He jumped to his feet and ran to help the woman.

The biker, covered in mashed potatoes, gravy and cherry cobbler ,found his legs. "Man, wjat happened?" the burly guy asked.

"I think she fainted,"smith told him. "Get the manager." He squatted beside the fallen woman and checked for a pulse. Strong beat, thank God, but she was out cold and a cut on her forehead was bleeding profusely.

The manager came rushing up. "I 've called 911. An ambulance is on the way. What happened, mr Rutledge?"

"I don't know, juan. she just suddenly keeled over, and the guy behind her fell on top of her. She's unconscious."

Smith didn't add that she'd fainted after seeing him, that she'd looked at him as if he were hannibal lecter. Hell, he might not be as pretty as his brother Kyle or hos lady-killer crow cousins , but he usually didn't have that kind of effect on women. And who the devil was tom?

The EMT crew came rushing in with stretcher and a medical kit-and a slew of Qusetions he couldn't answer. He didn't know her name, much less if she was diabetic or had any allergies,

Smith picked up her purse, a denim sack that felt as if she carried a blowing ball in it, and hunted for a wallet with some identification. He found a red leather one, and he opened it, he froze.

There, smiling up from a plastic pocket, was a picture of him. How did she get a picture of him? He'd never seen the woman in his life. He flipped to the next photo, and there was a picture of them together. What the-

"Sir, sir ,"the tech said. "We need to take her to the emergency room. What's her name? "

Dazed, smith stared at him ,trying to register the Qusetion.

"Her name?"

He quickly glanced at the driver's licence. "Jessica O' connor smith. Her name is Jessica O' connor smith. I'm coming with you."

"Sir, you can't ride in the ambulance."

"Then I'll be behind you."Smith stuck the wallet in his coat pocket, and, still carrying her denim bag, hurried after the strecher.

Smith sat in one of the plastic chairs in the waiting room, then rose and paced. He'd been alternatively sitting and pacing outside the emergency room for the pat hour. He'd tried to into his room with the woman, but a broad-shouldered nurse,who wasn't swayed by the amount of money smith had contributed to the hospital, had ordered him out.

"You 'll just be in the way," the nurse had told him. "The doctor wiil speak to you when he is done."

"He's taking own sweet time," smith muttered to no one in particular. He was concerned about the woman, sure, but he was more concerned about what he 'd found in her wallet.

He sat down and looked at the photographs again. He must have stared at those at those two pictures a dozen of times while he waited, trying to figure out where and when they were taken. For the life of him, he couldn't remember.

Once, years ago, he 'd drunk too much tequila with some of his college buddies amd woke up two days later, pockets empty and confused, in a seedy matamoros hotel.scared the dickens out of him, too.But that had only happened once. He'd learned his lesson. Expect for an occasional glass of wine or bottle of beer, he didn't drink .

Frowning, he studied the picture of jessica O'connor smith and him. Pretty woman , dynamite smile. He wouldn't have forgotten somebody like her. Her blondish hair was shorter and sleeker in the photo. Now it was long and curly, and she wore it in a single thick braid, but it was definitely the same woman.

Jessica O'Connor Smith of 218 elm sreet, Bartlesville, Oklahoma, her driver's license said . Smith didn't think he'd ever even passed through bartlesville. He'd also found a liabry card, a voter registration , a single credit card and twenty-eight dollars in cash in her wallet . Her bag was filled with more junk than he could have imagined toting around with him, but there was nothing more that told him anything about her. No address book, no personal letters. He'd searched the purse thoroughly.

The O'Connor sounded likea last name, too.was it her maiden name ? Was she married ? She wasn't wearing a wedding ring. He'd noted that early on. There wasn't even a telltale tan line where one might have been .

She was probably a tourist, one of the countless visitors that fled the colder parts of the country to bask in the sunshine of the Texas rio grande valley's early spring .lots of folks, especially older ones, wintered over in the valley ,but she certainly wasn't a senior citizen.

He'd even tired calling Bartlesville information, thinking to locate her family, but the operator informed him that there were no smiths listed at the address he'd given her. Odd.

what do you think that will happen next lets watch out for episode two.