Authors: Breanna Hayse
Lost and Found
©2011 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
Copyright © 2011 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse
All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Lost and Found
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images provided by BigStock Photo
This book is intended for
. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
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The young woman sat up on the ground, holding her throbbing head in her hands as she
tried to clear her mind of the fog that filled it. She was surrounded by rocks- rocky mountains,
rocky soil, and even the dry air felt rocky. Where was she anyway? The bright light hurt her eyes
and skin. It burned terribly. She twisted around to see a yellow sign posted just ahead. She knew
it said something, but she could not read it. What had happened?
She stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance. Tentatively, she put one foot in front of
the other and tried to walk. The ground felt strange, foreign under her bare feet. It hurt and she
struggled not to fall. She did not know where she was going, or where she had been. Two men
appeared over the ridge, holding something long and dark in their hands. They shouted at her,
but she could not understand them. A shot rang out and, feeling searing pain in her right
shoulder, she fell wordlessly to the rocky ground.
“How is she doing?”
“She’s wavering in and out, Doctor. Did the neuro results come back?”
“Yes. No brain damage, thank God. She’s lucky those idiots didn’t kill her,” Lance Callahan growled, sitting on a chair next to the woman’s bed. He peered into her unusual violet colored eyes, then checked her reflexes and listened to her heart. Tenderly, he brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
, he thought.
Why would anyone do this to such a pretty, little
“No one’s claimed her yet?” the nurse asked, writing some notes.
Lance shook his head. “Nope. It appears that Miss Jane Doe here fell out of the sky.”
“I found this in her pocket,” the nurse said, handing him a silver necklace. The word
was inscribed on it. “I’ve been calling her that. I’m assuming it’s her name.”
“Either that or she stole it,” Lance sighed. “Ok, let her rest. Get me immediately if she starts talking.”
“Yes, Doctor. Um, I hope I’m not being too forward, but you look pale. Are you feeling ok?”
“I’m just tired, Eileen. Don’t worry, I’m healthy as a horse.”
“Dr. C, even horses can be run dead into the ground. Please, get some rest. You’re going to get old before your time. You’re too young to take on all the worries of the world and way too handsome for those frown lines,” she chided affectionately.
Lance hugged the old nurse, kissing her cheek fondly, “Yes ma'am, thank you for caring.”
“Someone has to watch out for you since you’re too busy watching out for everyone else.
Just because you have the name of a knight, doesn’t mean you have to constantly be dressed for battle.”
“That’s what you think, my dear. My suit of armor just happens to be white and made of cotton,” he plucked at his lab coat. “As for battles, wish me luck. I’m heading for a nasty one right now.” With an exhausted smile and another peck on the cheek, Lance picked himself up and walked back to the physician offices where he was meeting the management team to discuss the case.
“Hi, Lance. How’s she doing?” the social worker asked.
“No changes yet, Meg. Brain scan was clear; CNS findings were normal. Except for the gunshot wound to the right shoulder and an ugly lump on the back of the head, nothing appears to be wrong. Any luck in finding someone to claim her?”
“Nope. I’m sorry. I have the police working on it too.”
“We don’t even know if she’s from the U.S. She could be an illegal immigrant,” another voice said gruffly. Stuart Hart, the general surgeon, sat at the head of the conference table and looked bored.
“I put a request for a missing person report through the Interpol as well as here in the states, Dr. Hart. I know my job,” the social worker said with her eyes narrowed.
“We can’t keep her here once she regains consciousness and is medically cleared. What are our options?” Lou Black, the hospital administrator queried.
“Just send her to County and let them deal with her,” Stuart said stiffly, glancing at his watch.
Lance glared at him. “In her condition, she’d be raped before nightfall. I know that place: I’m the Psych Director. Absolutely not. She’s not a criminal or a mental case.”
“That you know of.”
“Now listen here, Hart…”
“Gentlemen, please. Stu, I agree with Lance. County is too dangerous for a little thing like that. How about a shelter of some sort?”
“They won’t provide the after-care she’ll need. We’re also calling her
. One of the nurses found a necklace in her pocket with that name on it,” Lance announced.
“There he goes: Sir Lancelot to the rescue of another innocent maiden! How about we wrap this one in a pretty red bow and give her to you as a Christmas present?” Stuart guffawed.
“Watch your mouth, Hart, before I forget I’m a gentleman and that there is a lady present.”
“Lance, please don’t feel you need to hold back on my account,” Meg glowered at the surgeon.
The administrator held up his hand. “Enough! Stuart, how is she physically?”
“She’s fine to go. The bullet just grazed her shoulder. She’s severely dehydrated and underfed, otherwise seems to be in decent condition.”
“Neurologically, it’s still hard to determine the extent of damage she’s suffered with that blow to the head. Brain scan was normal; CNS response good. CBC shows what we’d expect in her present condition. Once she’s awake, I can perform a better neuro-eval.”
“Ok, so this is what we will do. She’s staying here until she wakes and is coherent and self-functioning. We’ll run an assessment at that time and try to determine her acuity level.
Meg, keep trying to locate family or friends and an alternate living arrangement that can provide some after-care. Stuart, your job with her is finished. Dr. Callahan will monitor her. I also suggest you review your reasons for becoming a physician, other than the bankroll. Dismissed.” Stuart flipped off Lance as he left the room.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with that jerk,” Meg said, gathering her papers.
Lance shrugged. “He’s a spiteful, lonely, insecure old man. Let’s try to ignore him. Do you have any ideas about how to help her?”
“I do have one. The question is, will you go for it, Sir Lancelot of Callahan?”
“Very funny. Try me,” Lance said, locking his steel blue eyes to her brown ones. Meg took a breath and presented her idea.
Noelle slowly scanned the room. The walls were light blue with plain furnishings scattered about. Groggily, she sat up, rubbing her eyes and trying to focus better. Her shoulder protested the movement and she felt tears coming because of the pain. The back of her head hurt as well and she tenderly touched it, feeling the egg-sized bump. She looked up as a woman, dressed in light green scrubs, walked in. She panicked, pushing herself against the head of the bed while pulling the sheets high to her chin.
The woman gave her a kind smile. “Don’t be afraid, I’m not going to hurt you. My, you are a pretty thing. My name is Eileen. You were injured and brought here to the hospital. Can you understand me?” Eileen asked gently. Slowly, Noelle nodded her head.
“Do you speak English?” Noelle looked confused. What else would she speak? Just the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. Eileen patted her arm. “I’ll be right back. Can I get you something?’ Noelle shook her head, staring. Eileen smiled and hurried to find Dr. Callahan.
Lance slowly approached the girl, his rugged face soft with concern. Noelle shrunk back fearfully. He was so tall! Lance noticed her fear and sat quickly in the chair next to the bed. He was used to that look. At 6’7”, and a prior professional basketball player, ‘normal’ people were unaccustomed to his height. Especially smaller women like Noelle.
“Hello, sweetie. I’m Dr. Callahan, but you can call me Lance. How are you feeling?” Noelle just looked at him, hiding under the covers. He kept his voice soft. “I’m a neurologist…
a brain doctor,” he said, seeing her confusion. “Can you understand what I’m saying?” Noelle nodded, looking fearfully at Eileen, who winked. “It’s ok to be scared. You don’t know us. Dr. Lance might look like a giant with his head high up in the clouds, but he has a heart of pure Twinkies and tootsie-pops. I promise, we’re here to help you,” Eileen assured.
Noelle seemed to relax a little with the woman’s words.
Lance held out his hand. “May I check your pulse? It won’t hurt. It’s just like holding your hand.” Timidly, she stretched out her hand. Lance stroked the back of it gently before pressing his index and third finger to her wrist. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” She shook her head, watching him.
“Very good. Does anything hurt?”
She nodded, pointing to her shoulder and the back of her head as she stuck out her lower lip.
“You are much too adorable. Ok, we’ll get you something to help the pain. Do you remember what happened?”
She shook her head.
“Do you know your name? Is it Noelle? How old are you?”
“Do you come from around here?”
Again, a shrug. Lance frowned, looking at Eileen. “It looks like a case of severe trauma-induced amnesia. I want to see how much she remembers regarding ADLs. Bring occupational therapy and speech up here and have them run her through. Be very careful, she’s terrified.”