Runaway Bride (8 page)

She laid on the bed, sinking into it.
All the spas in the world couldn't equal the delight or comfort of
that bed. Never had she slept on a feather bed. She was in absolute
heaven—until she started sneezing, and couldn't stop.

She got up, walked for a few minutes
around the room. Still it wouldn't stop.

Finally there was a knock on the
door.

"Something wrong?" Ben asked peeking
his head through the door and looking at her strangely.

"Uh—no, of course not." And then she
sneezed again.

She saw the tissue on the night stand
and rushed for it. She blew her nose and turned back around to see
him in the room with her. The room shrank. Now what was she
supposed to do, she wasn't dressed for company and with the bed
between them, her head was spinning with ideas she would rather not
put to words. How could she even think of such things when she had
just run from a marriage with a man she had adored and loved? What
was wrong with her?

"You're allergic to feathers, I'd bet
my life on it." he stated with a strange kind of panic in his
voice.

"Oh—no, it's not that, it's just
..."

He shook his head. "It's okay, let's
prove it."

He moved the pillow and held it up for
her and she sneezed, several times.

"Yes, it's the feathers." He threw the
pillow on the bed.

"Oh no, well, I'll be okay, really..."
She began, but he cut her off.

"No you won't. But don't worry, I have
another bedroom," he explained pulling her out of the
room.

He seemed not to notice that she was
only clad in her t-shirt that barely covered her hips. She shrugged
away the apprehension that clinched at her stomach.
Just stay calm, he's a Sheriff,
remember?

"C'mon," he pulled her to the other
bedroom which was just down the hall from his obviously.

"This should be better, no feather
bed." He smiled down into her face. In that instant she knew she
was way too attracted to this man. And she was too
vulnerable.

Her eyes were watering and she felt as
though she were crying when she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. I
loved that bed. It's so soft. I really wanted to sleep in
it."

"Yeah, kinda sinks in, doesn't it?" he
asked with another hundred dollar smile.

"Yes—it does." Suddenly he seemed very
aware of her state of dress and his own nearness. He backed away,
although there was a reluctance in his eyes.

Good thinking!

"Well goodnight. There's a television
in the corner over there and the remote is on top." He said
starting for the door.

"Thanks, Sheriff."

Something in his facial expression
changed and he came toward her with a purpose, he pulled her chin
up to look into her eyes. How could she ever think those brown eyes
were ever cold and hard. "The name's Ben. I'm not always a Sheriff,
in fact, I'm off duty..."

"Ben," she barely whispered.

He stared into her face and then
smiled. "I'm sorry about the handcuffs this afternoon."

Absently, his fingers grazed her chin
and rubbed.

Erotic...that's what it
was!

"It's okay, no harm done. I guess you
had a point. My state of dress was indecent."

"Goodnight," he said, his head bending
just a fraction toward hers before good sense prevailed and he
turned and walked out the door.

She let out a held breath, "Wow, what
was that ....?"

She lay back on the bed, and decided it
was time to call it a night. She had to get her heartbeat back to
normal. She had to be reasonable. She had to remember
Chad.

But a soft knock at the door brought
her up again. "Yes?"

"I never thought to ask, but is there
anyone you need to call?" He asked as she cracked the door and
looked at him.

He had unbuttoned his shirt a little
and looked as though he'd been about to get ready for bed
himself.

"I can do it tomorrow."

"Yeah, right, well, goodnight again,"
he said his eyes traveling her slowly.

"Goodnight, Sheriff." she said with a
smile and closed the door.

She leaned against it, closed her eyes
and imagined all the things a girl shouldn't imagine when she's
stranded with a hellova good looking man. She doubted she'd sleep
tonight.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning a car was parked out
front, Mrs. Johnson, his housekeeper was there, but the Sheriff was
gone. Savannah dressed in his sister's clothes again and rushed out
and into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I overslept, I guess. Has
the Sheriff left?"

"Yes, he said something about your car
being towed. Said he'd be back directly. I'm Mrs. Johnson, you must
be ..."

"Savannah Kingsley," she smiled at the
older lady. She was tall, and thin, and in her late fifties or
sixties. Attractive though for her age, Savannah
thought.

"What a pretty name." The way she was
smiling made Savannah wonder what was going on, but she said
nothing. "Are you by any chance kin to Lucy Kingsley?"

"Why yes, I am. She's my
aunt."

"Your aunt, well, I swan, if that don't
beat all. She'll be so sorry she missed you. She hasn't had a
relative visit in so long; she might faint from the shock of it.
She often talks about her sister's family."

"Well, that's odd, since my parents
haven't spoken to her in years. It happened long ago. I don't even
think Mother remembers why."

"Oh, that's a shame, a real shame.
That's so sad. Families shouldn't be that way. Life's too
short."

"Yes, you are so right... Aunt Lucy had
always been so kind to me. She's the first person I thought about
when I left home."

When Mrs. Johnson went back to work,
Savannah felt she had to keep the conversation flowing.

"I had car trouble out on the highway
yesterday. My clothes were a mess and I didn't have a place to
stay, so the Sheriff ..."

"You don't have to explain to me, dear.
I figured as much. Ben hasn't entertained a girl here in quite some
time. No—that isn't right either. He's never entertained anyone but
his family here."

"Really, why not?" It just shot out of
her mouth and she could have killed herself for it, but it was too
late, the damage was done.

"I don't really know for certain." The
woman glanced at her again and smiled. "Lots of young girls in
these parts have been interested, but Ben just doesn't respond to
them for some reason. I suspect he's looking for something very
special in a lady." Mrs. Johnson said and shook her head. "Are—are
you married Ms. Kingsley?"

"No, not me. I've just been stranded
here, that's all," she explained. "I'll be on my way as soon as my
car is fixed. I'll probably stay with my aunt for a while,
though."

"A photographer, are you?" Mrs. Johnson
nodded toward her camera equipment in the corner of the
kitchen.

"Well...no, not really. I do a little
magazine work on occasions. It's something I've always been
interested in."

"How exciting. What do you
photograph?"

"Animals mostly," she sighed. "Nature
scenes. Anything that I find amusing."

"Must be an exciting job." Mrs. Johnson
proceeded to peel some potatoes.

"Well, it could take me places, that's
for sure." Her one and only photography job and been during her
last vacation in Kenya. The magazine she had sent them to loved
them and published them. Pursuing it was her dream, but her parents
balked at the idea, telling her she didn't need a job that could
take her away from her husband and family. That was two years
ago.

Mrs. Johnson set breakfast on the
kitchen table, then put an ironing board in one corner and began
pressing Ben's uniform shirts. She worked steadily with some
satisfaction in what she was doing, by the way she took such care
of the clothing.

"Have you worked here long?"

"Oh my yes, off and on for three years.
Ever since Ben became Sheriff."

"You sound very fond of him." Savannah
watched the older woman take such pains with his shirt.

"Oh, if I'd have had a son, he'd be the
one I'd want. My husband and I couldn't have children, I'm afraid.
We tried for years, it just didn't happen. But Ben, why he's a
dear, the perfect gentleman. Junction couldn't ask for a better
Sheriff."

Surely the housekeeper wasn't trying to
play match-maker. No, she just had her head in the wrong clouds,
Savannah reasoned. Just because Ben Hogg was handsome as the devil
himself, and happened to be a Sheriff, and rescued her from hell,
didn't mean she had to go falling for him. She didn't trust men,
and she had to remember that before she found herself falling
again.

As she ate the scrambled eggs and
toast. She'd decide later, what to do. She knew she had to get her
car fixed, but what could she do in the meantime. If only she had
her identification, and could go to her Aunt's house, and she'd be
fine. In fact, it might be better that her aunt wasn't home. After
all, it had been years since anyone in her family had spoken to
Aunt Lucy. She wasn't sure of her welcome.

* * *

Ben cleared his desk quickly and called
a towing service to get Savannah's car taken care of. All morning
he kept himself busy, and didn't realize the time till Henry, the
butcher came in.

"Morning Henry, what brings you by?"
Ben asked trying to look at least a little busy for Henry's sake.
He didn't need to ask. Henry always popped by, just to talk. It was
like some sport to him. If there was any gossip in town, Henry knew
about it, and reported it.

"Mrs. Johnson called and asked me to
bring this by so you can take it home with you so she could make
some pot roast tomorrow. Says you're right fond of pot roast." He
answered handing Ben a package of meat, then glancing about for a
chair to sit and chat.

Ben stowed the meat in the small fridge
he had installed a month ago for his staff. He enjoyed the way
small town people always seemed to care about one
another.

"I'll take care of it, thanks for
bringing it by." Ben nodded. "Anything else?"

Henry scratched his head. "Saw
somebody's car bein' towed wondered if you knew about it?" Henry
asked narrowing dark gray eyes on Ben.

"As a matter of fact I do. It belongs
to a young lady that was stranded on the bus yesterday." Ben
answered, flipping through some papers on his desk.

"You don't say. That's one fine car."
Henry stared at Ben.

"It is?"

"You didn't see it?"

"No, I was on the bus too, Henry. On
the opposite side from the car." He knew what kind of car Savannah
drove, but he refused to rob Henry of the pleasure of telling
him.

"BMW, brand spanking new,
too."

Ben's head whipped about to look at
Henry. "A BMW, you say?"

"That's right. Who is she, the Queen of
Sheba?" Henry chuckled.

"Said her name was Savannah Kingsley.
Suppose to be Lucy's niece. Ever heard of her?"

"Nope, but she must have lots of
money." Henry said rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That Lucy ain't
hurtin' for none. Lives in that big ole house all alone, ever since
her husband died. I reckon she'll be tickled pink to have some
company, way out there in the boondocks."

Ben felt a cold sliver run down his
back. What if she stole it? After all, her story was a little
shaky.

"Where is she?" Henry glanced around as
though she might be hiding in some corner.

"Who?"

"The little gal that claims to be
Lucy's niece?" Henry seemed impatient at learning this bit of
news.

"She's at my place." Ben answered with reluctance. He
waited for Henry to react to that news, but Henry acted as though
it were common place.

"Oh, she's a friend, then?" Henry
couldn't keep his curiosity to himself and Ben knew it would be all
over town before sundown that he had a woman out at his
place.

"Yeah, she's a friend," he said as he
decided to play into Henry's hand.

"Well, bring her by when you get the
chance, Ben." Henry seemed satisfied very quickly which was unusual
for him. But Ben let it slide. Henry was harmless and there really
wasn't anything to tell, Savannah Kingsley would be gone as soon as
he verified her information.

He secretly pondered whether to check
the plates and run a check on the car. It seemed downright
underhanded, but he was the Sheriff and if anything was amiss he
should know it. After a lot of deliberating, he decided he should
run the check. It would be a while before he heard back, but he put
it in his computer and would check at home later.

Pulling his keys from the drawer, he
locked the small jailhouse and headed home, since his two deputies
were over in Sweetwater taking tests.