Runaway Bride (5 page)

Sunday was merely another day of the
week to her. She usually attended church, when home, then worked on
her client list. She'd been a real estate agent for all of a year,
but she had progressed, thanks to her dad's influence. Not her own.
Still, she wasn't fooling herself; she didn't want a career in real
estate. That was her dad's idea, not hers. Even though the work
came easy for her, she had no interest. She wanted a home and
family. How did one go about changing that kind of idea, especially
when it was a lifetime idea?

All the stores would be open at
home...But this wasn't home.

She glanced at her watch and grimaced,
another couple of hours and the sun would go down. "How about a
station where I could get my car fixed?"

"Full service filling stations went out
a long time ago. We got a mechanic down the road a
piece."

"Oh, good. How far?" She squinted in
the sunlight.

"Couple of miles. I'll give you a lift
if you like." His voice was indulgent, but right now, she just
didn't care. He offered, she'd take him up on it.

"Oh, would you?" She tried to sound
grateful. Somehow she didn't think the cowboy was too happy about
being saddled with her. She understood that, and she'd be on her
way as soon as she got her car tended to.

"Sure, get in." He mumbled as he threw
his saddle in the back of his jeep. "He don't usually work on
Sunday either, but maybe we can get him to haul your car into town,
and fix it tomorrow."

Tomorrow? Everything was tomorrow, not
now! How did people get things done around here? They were losing
money, closing on Sundays.

She hurriedly pulled her equipment
along and after carefully stowing it beside the saddle, she climbed
in and he took off down the dust filled road. He seemed in a hurry
to get there, in a hurry to get rid of her.

He hardly said a word to her all the
way to the station and she wasn't sure why. He seemed to have good
manners. But ever since she climbed into his vehicle the man was
one big wad of frowns. He'd be very good looking if he didn't frown
so much, she thought. Not that she was paying that much attention
to a yokel. She knew enough about red-neck cowboys to stay as far
away as possible.

Five minutes later the cowboy pounded
on the station door. No one answered.

There was some kind of note pinned on
the gas pump though. She spotted it and handed it to
him.

"It figures. He's closed for his
father-in-law’s funeral, it says." The cowboy read the note, and
then stuck it back on the pump.

"Closed?" She nearly yelped.

"'Fraid so. Poor Alfred."

Who was Alfred?

Savannah felt like collapsing in one
big puddle of tears. What had started out as such a wonderful day
yesterday was turning into a nightmare today.

Now here she was, no better off than
she had been sitting with her car. And the stranger didn't seem
very eager to lend her any help.

Trying to curb her fears, she suddenly
sat on an old coke carton in front of the station. She no longer
cared about the dress.

The man eyed her for a few minutes. He
even went so far as to get in his jeep and start the motor, but
something stopped him. In slow motion, he switched off the ignition
and glanced over at her. The look on his face was patronizing, as
if he had to put up with her for one more minute it would kill
him.

"You can come to my place and stay," he
offered intently aware of her stare.

Yeah
,
right
.
Do I
look like I've lost my mind?
She might appear
helpless, and maybe even brainless, but she knew better than to run
off with a complete stranger, especially to his home. Besides, his
offer was definitely reluctant. But maybe he had a wife that
wouldn't understand, or maybe he was a pervert. She certainly
didn't know anything about him. Not even his name.

"That's okay...."

She looked up at him, and swallowed
hard. She hadn't paid that much attention to him on the bus. And
during the ride, it was all she could do to stay in her seat. But
now, she had time and she was totally entranced by his all male
beauty. From the tips of his plain leather boots, to the tops of
his wide shoulders, the man reeked male. His skin was as tan as his
hair. His face was an interesting contrast to his personality. He
had a pleasant face, crinkles around the eyes and mouth that said
he smiled a lot, although she'd not seen even the beginnings of one
since she'd met him. His brown eyes were very expressive. He had a
wide face, and very youthful.

"I realize you're a stranger here, but
you can put your mind at ease. I'm also the Sheriff."

Oh great, her parents were probably
putting out an APB for their stolen car and she had run smack dab
into the Sheriff!

Could it get any
worse?

CHAPTER TWO

When he noticed her staring, he
grinned, the first grin she'd seen and was it ever
charming.

She tried not to let the grin affect
her, but it did. Good grief the man was absolutely irresistible
when he smiled. Awareness shot through her like a bolt of lightning
and she silently scolded herself for reacting to a man who
obviously wasn't a bit interested in her. Besides, hadn't she
learned that men just couldn't be trusted? She wasn't about to get
herself tangled with any man, for a long time.

"Thanks, but I'll manage," she said not
knowing fully why she was rejecting the only friendly offer she'd
had all day. Perhaps it had something to do with her reaction to
this man. She was vulnerable right now, and she knew it.

He shook his head, the grin still in
place, as he looked away from her. "I'm afraid you don't have much
choice ma'am. You see, me being the Sheriff here, and well—the way
you're dressed, I'd have to make an arrest if I caught you
loitering around in that getup."

Savannah glanced down at herself. The
first time she'd really noticed what she'd done to herself, hit her
squarely. Then his words dawned and she had the sinking feeling
that the worst of the day wasn't over yet.

"You're really the Sheriff?" she
countered, eyeing him up and down with a long bat of her
lashes.

"That's right, Ben Hogg, ma'am." He
tipped his hat.

That southern way he had about him of
grinning and tipping his hat, had her heart fluttering for a
minute, but only a minute. What was she thinking? She didn't need a
man, especially right now. Hadn't she learned anything?

"But I told you what happened ..." she
protested. Then repeating his name she smiled, "As in
pigs?"

She hadn't meant to smile, but that
name startled her.

"Yes ma'am," his lips firmed into
another frown. Obviously he was used to the question. "Look I
sympathize, but we're gonna have to do something real quick about
your state of dress." He cleared his throat and looked away. "You
do have a change of clothes in that little bag of yours, don't
you?"

"Well of course I do, I mean, I think I
do. Oh, I should have gotten some clothes yesterday, but under the
circumstances…"

"You don't have any clothes in the
bag." His expression turned serious, the fabulous smile faded into
oblivion.

Savannah bit her lower lip. "A Sleep
shirt."

"A what?" he asked as though he'd never
heard of such.

"A Sleep shirt, you know a t-shirt to
sleep in," she explained. "Well," she felt compelled to explain.
"One doesn't plan these kinds of things out, when one runs from a
wedding."

"That doesn't sound much better than
what you have on," he shook his head and looked away again. "But I
guess you have a point."

Savannah felt an unease creep up her
back. She shuffled the camera equipment and set it down beside her.
The man was infuriating, despite the fact that he was drop dead
gorgeous, despite the fact that her whole body seemed aware of him.
He saw what had happened to her, basically. He knew where her car
was, that she was practically stranded. And the invitation to stay
with him was issued with such reluctance she wouldn't go with him
now if he pleaded.

"Thanks for all your help, Sheriff, but
I'll figure something out," she muttered miserably and turned again
toward the gas station. Bold words, but exactly what she was going
to do. She didn't have a set plan, and she hadn't bothered calling
her aunt because she wanted to put distance between her and the
congregation at the church. Besides she'd already spent $40 of her
$250. It wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"If your car wasn't twenty miles down
the road, and your bag had something decent in it, I'd say you were
probably right, but under the circumstances, ma'am, you're gonna
have to come with me." Ben insisted as he got out of the jeep and
approached her again.

His legs were long and lithe and he
moved toward her like a predator, a very sexy predator.

"I can manage, Sheriff, please don't
bother with me," she began, and that's when he put the cuffs on her
wrist. Cold steel—handcuffs.

They pinched...

"No bother at all ma'am," he said with
a smile pushing his hat back away from his face, so she could get a
better view of the man. And what a view, but she was temporarily
distracted by the new jewelry.

"What—what are you doing?" she
protested the use of force, cold and hard against her
wrists.

"Taking you with me." He insisted
guiding her back toward the jeep. With one hand he picked up her
camera and tripods, with the other, he nudged her toward the
jeep.

She pulled away from him, jerking her
arms about. "Am I under arrest?"

The man stood squarely in front of her,
his legs slightly apart, his hands gripping her equipment, and then
he stashed the equipment back in the same spot. His glance shot up
and down her. "No ma'am. I'm taking you into protective custody
till we can figure out what to do with you."

"Protective custody?" she choked out.
"But Sheriff ..."

"It'll go a lot easier if you just come
along with me," he insisted in a quietly steel-edged
voice.

CHAPTER THREE

Ben dusted his clothes with a sweep of
his hat, and led his so called prisoner into his house. This was
about as dumb a thing as he'd ever done, but for the life of him,
he couldn't figure out what else to do with the woman. He knew
she'd be trouble from the moment he laid eyes on her, his
trouble.

Did she honestly think he'd let her run
all over town looking like that?

And why did it have to be a Sunday, the
one day his housekeeper wasn't here. How was he supposed to manage
with a woman in his home. Too bad Dana, his younger sister hadn't
spent the summer with him like she usually did. At least she had
left some clothes, and they just might fit this little
gal.

The woman hadn't said a word all the
way out to his place. She hadn't remarked that he practically lived
in the boondocks. Instead, she had just sat there with that frown
on her face, and those pitiful sad eyes staring at him, every time
he hit a chuckhole.

"Sheriff, wouldn't it have been easier
to just take me to my car?" She insisted when he went into the
kitchen and brought back a couple of glasses of lemonade. Thank
goodness Mrs. Johnson had made it earlier before leaving, with a
note she'd see him first thing in the morning.

"It might, but I've had a long day, and
I've got to get some rest before tomorrow. We'll see to your car
tomorrow. Folks around here don't do much on Sundays."

"You've said that," she muttered
mutinously.

He handed her the lemonade. That slip
she wore played all kinds of tricks on his imagination. Tricks he
didn't want to think about. He needed to get some clothes on her,
and right away.

He set his drink down and went into his
bedroom. Minutes later he came out with a t-shirt and pair of
jeans.

"Why don't you take those into the
bathroom and try them on. It might be a little big, but at least it
will be decent." He suggested, taking the cuffs off her wrists and
unthinkingly rubbing them for a second. Something clicked for a
minute when she turned her pert little nose in the air, and her
green eyes flashed at him, but he cleared his throat and turned his
attention to his handcuffs. When her eyes widened and she looked at
what he was doing, he fumbled and moved away.

"They belonged to my sister. She's
taller and rounder than you, but you look like you might be able to
manage."

"Where's the bathroom?" she asked
peering about the place with idle curiosity, and a frown as big as
Texas on her face.

"Straight through the hallway on the
end." He motioned, trying not to look at her again.

He definitely didn't like what this
lady was doing to him. The way her little tush swished back and
forth down the hallway, had him reacting in a most basic way. A
reaction he'd prided himself well under control. At least until she
walked into his life. Standing there rubbing her wrists as though
he regretted putting the cuffs on her. It was his job, he had to
protect her from herself.