Read The Sheriff Catches a Bride Online
Authors: Cora Seton
Tags: #Romance, #Cowboys, #Contemporary, #Adult
“You know what, Jason? I don’t need to talk about this anymore. We’re done. Through. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I’ll return your ring and we can pretend this never happened, okay?”
She ended the call before he could answer and turned her phone off, then stuffed it in the glove compartment for good measure. She turned the truck’s engine on and revved it. Backed out of her parking spot and spun the wheel until she was headed back the way she’d come.
No sense driving to North Dakota now. She and Jason were done. Instead she stopped at a sporting goods store, picked up some supplies and drove carefully out to Carl’s woods. Everyone thought she’d be gone for several days. If she went back to the Cruz ranch, Autumn and Ethan would be solicitous but they’d have questions, too, and she couldn’t bear to answer questions. Worse, Cab might stop by and she wasn’t ready to see him. For one night she wanted to be free of all entanglements. Her tree house was her best bet for that.
It didn’t take long to pinpoint several flaws in its design and her plan to spend the night there.
First, at only six feet square, it was hardly big enough to stretch out fully on its floor. Thank goodness she hadn’t had time to build the bench seat and desk yet, or she wouldn’t have fit at all.
Second, she hadn’t insulated the walls. Or the floor. Or nailed on a real roof for that matter.
Third, she hadn’t installed a furnace, wall-to-wall carpeting, or most importantly, indoor plumbing.
Cramped, freezing, and desperately in need of a bathroom, Rose sat up around midnight and contemplated her surroundings. The windows let in a faint light from the stars above. Every chink and crack in the place let in ice-cold drafts that set her teeth chattering. Outside the night was very still, except for the muffled whoosh now and then of a car passing on the winding country road a quarter mile away.
She got out of her sleeping bag reluctantly and grabbed the flashlight she’d stashed near the door. She searched the small room until she found the roll of toilet paper, tucked it under her arm, kicked the sleeping bag aside, and opened the door.
She’d propped her ladder against the tree house until such time as she could build a better set of stairs and she struggled down it, the flashlight jammed in her pocket. On the ground, she pulled it out again, but took care to keep the light pointed straight down. She didn’t want to risk alerting Cab, sleeping in Carl’s house, of her presence.
As she picked her way through the frozen darkness, she couldn’t help imagine Cab asleep in a nice, warm bed. Obviously her plan to stay here was idiotic; she should have simply slept in a motel. It was too late for that now. She couldn’t risk starting up the truck and waking Cab.
She found a secluded, bushy area and raced to complete her task. Soon she was hurrying back the way she’d come. The dark woods around her pressed against her until she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Anything might be hiding in them. Why did the way back seem to take so much longer than the walk out here? Spooked, Rose picked up the pace, the beam of her flashlight dancing on the ground ahead of her.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the ladder came into view. She scurried up it and back inside, shut the door and leaned against it. Propping the flashlight low on the floor where its light wouldn’t be seen from outside, she opened her duffel bag and searched inside. She shucked off her jacket, pulled on several more layers of clothing, three pairs of socks, and put the jacket on again. She wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on a knitted hat. Back in her sleeping bag, she finally began to warm up, but with the hard floor beneath her and the large, dark woods outside, Rose knew she’d be lucky to get a minute of sleep this night.
A
fter much discussion
with a ticket agent at the train station and the helpful young couple who stood in line behind her, Fila realized she now needed to turn to a different form of transportation. She duly found herself several hours later ensconced in the comfortable seat of a Greyhound bus heading west for Montana via Wisconsin and Minnesota. She had one transfer in Minneapolis, but she’d been assured that would be a piece of cake. The ride would take almost exactly twenty-four hours. Time to catch up on some sleep.
She woke up when a young woman sat in the empty seat beside her and Fila fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her again.
“What station is this?” she asked, jerking upright in her seat.
“Tomah.”
Fila checked her ticket. Still three hours to go until the transfer in Minneapolis. She settled back in her seat, but sleep eluded her again. Where were Wahid and the others now? Were they still searching for her in New York City, or had they somehow figured out where she’d gone?
She shivered and peeked over to see what her seatmate was doing. The young woman had withdrawn a tablet from her purse and held it on her lap. Fila had seen them everywhere since she landed in New York and she longed to hold one, too. To explore what it could do. The woman was watching a movie, with earbuds in her ears, so Fila couldn’t hear what the actors said. She wished she had a movie to watch. Maybe then the time wouldn’t crawl by so slowly.
As if hearing her thoughts, the woman glanced her way. She smiled, manipulated something on her tablet, paused the movie and removed her earbuds.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m Catherine.”
“Fila.” Too late she remembered she was supposed to say Karen. Well, what were the chances of Wahid or the others meeting this Midwestern girl and actually speaking to her?
“Where you headed?”
“Montana. How about you?”
“Fargo, North Dakota,” Catherine said. “I go to college there. Is Montana your home?”
“It’s going to be,” Fila said. A grin twitched the corners of her mouth. For the first time she believed it.
“I love Montana,” Catherine confided. “I want to move there when I’m done with school.” She looked Fila up and down. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two,” Fila said. Ancient in Afghani years—much too old to be unmarried—but just a child here in the United States.
“Me, too,” Catherine said happily. “I’m in my senior year. What about you?”
“I haven’t been able to go to college yet.”
“Oh.” Catherine seemed confused. “Where are you from? You have an accent I can’t place.”
Fila bit her lip. She wanted to be truthful with this bright, young girl, but she couldn’t afford to leave a trail for the men to find.
“I’m from Syria,” she said, figuring no American could tell the difference. She relaxed when Catherine took her answer on faith.
“Syria,” she said. “Is that near Greece?”
On Saturday morning,
Cab stood in the foyer of Carl’s house, ready to head into town to grab some breakfast at Linda’s Diner, when his phone rang. He was in a foul mood, unusual for him, but he’d let himself think that Rose was interested in him, and he’d let himself look forward to their date this morning. Knowing she was with Jason in North Dakota made him itch to strike out at something, and he wasn’t that kind of guy.
Usually.
“Hello?”
“Cab? It’s Rose. We still on for today?”
Cab pulled the phone away from his face, stared at it, then put it back to his ear. “You’re in town?”
“Of course. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, though. The last couple of days have been hectic.”
“I figured you’d still be in North Dakota. I heard something about you visiting Jason.”
A pause. “You heard wrong,” she said finally. “So, do you still want to get together?”
“Sure.”
Of course.
Just as soon as he got his mind wrapped around the fact she was here and wanted to see him. And that she hadn’t gone to see Jason. “Are you at the Cruz ranch?” Had she been there the whole time?
“No.” Rose took a breath. “I’m running some errands. I can swing by your place if you like.”
Well, that was vague. “All right,” he said slowly, deciding whether or not to dig for answers. “You can leave your car here and we’ll head out to the hills together. I know a place where it’s safe to shoot.”
“Great. See you in a bit.” She rang off before he could ask any more questions. Like, why did her friends think she was out of town? And, had she spoken to Jason?
Fifteen minutes later, his doorbell rang and he opened it to find Rose dressed in a pair of jeans, boots, a thick coat, hat, mittens and scarf. She looked a little less tidy than usual and wore no makeup today. Her hair, generally neat as a pin, hung loose around her shoulders in waves. Almost like she’d just rolled out of bed, Cab thought.
“Can I freshen up before we go?” she asked when he waved her in.
“Be my guest.”
She kicked off her boots and he noticed their soles were caked with dirt. “Is it that cold out?” he asked as she unwound her scarf from around her neck.
“I just can’t get warm today,” she said.
“Coming down with something?” She certainly looked tired and when he touched her hand it was icy cold. “Hey, you better warm up for a bit before we go back outside. Come on.” He led her farther into the house, pointed her to the bathroom and went into the kitchen to make her a cup of hot coffee. When she found him there a few minutes later, she hesitated in the doorway. “Have a seat,” he said and waved her to a chair at the table.
“Thanks.” She took the cup of coffee and wrapped her hands around it. “I’m not sick, I just didn’t sleep well last night. Then I was outside for a bit this morning. The cold got into my bones, I guess.”
“It’ll do that,” Cab agreed and sat down, too. “I’m not in any rush today, so you take your time.”
“Thanks.”
“Tell me—why do your friends think you’re in North Dakota right now?” Cab knew he should probably mind his own business but he was singularly unable to do that where Rose was concerned.
“Because that’s where I was headed. I changed my mind after I talked to Jason.”
“Ah. How did that go?”
She made a face. “About as well as you’d expect. He blamed me for everything and claimed he was just as interested as ever in marriage, then got right back to the business of bossing me around.”
“So, you’re still together?” he asked cautiously.
“No. We’re through,” she said in a clipped voice.
He tried to squash the feeling of elation that filled his chest. Failed. “Where are you staying?”
She took a sip of her coffee. “I’d rather not say.”
Cab looked up. “Why not?”
“Because I’d rather not.” She met his gaze and held it. “You’re my friend, Cab, not my father.”
Damn. Here they were again. Did she not trust him or was there some other reason she acted so bull-headed around him? “I’m just curious. I’m not going to stalk you.”
“You did follow me home the other night.”
Cab shifted in his chair, frustrated. “I apologize for caring about your safety.”
She took a breath. Let it out. “Look, Cab, I appreciate that you care about my safety. Right now I need to be on my own, though. I need to figure out who I am without a bunch of people trying to take care of me or tell me what to do. I’d like you to be my friend. Can you do that?”
He stifled all the words he wanted to say about safety in numbers, the fact he was a sheriff—and a man, for God’s sake—and how he’d hate himself if anything ever happened to her that he could prevent. “Yes, I can.” The sentence sounded about as strangled as he felt.
“Good. Now how about that shooting lesson you promised me?”
“Coming right up.”
The pistol was far heavier
than she’d imagined. Rose held it at arm’s length, aimed, took a breath, and pulled the trigger as she exhaled.
“Better,” Cab said, peering at the target. They stood in a canyon far from habitation where he’d set up a target a number of yards away. When they got to the canyon, he had put her through a lengthy safety spiel that only avoided being a snooze-fest because of Cab’s inherently sexy voice. After that he’d allowed her to hold an unloaded pistol, and walked her through each step of loading it, releasing the safety, aiming and firing. In Cab’s large hands, the pistol seemed like a toy and all the moving parts operated easily.
In her hands, it was unwieldy and the mechanisms hard to maneuver.
He was patient, she’d give him that. Several times she’d forgotten the rule against pointing the gun anywhere except at the target. She’d turned her head to speak to him and the pistol had turned with her. Each time he’d stopped her before she got very far, urged her to pay strict attention every moment it was in her hands, and listened to her response. The man was an excellent teacher.
She wished she were a better student.
The truth was being this close to Cab unnerved her in all kinds of ways. On an average day, she found him incredibly hot. But put a weapon in his hand and all those womanly fantasies about tough guys and heroes rolled into one in her brain. At one point he’d stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her and showed her exactly how to stand and hold the pistol. Her heart pounded the entire time and she barely heard his words over the roar of her blood in her ears. Even now that he stood several paces away she still felt warm and tingly all over. Firing the pistol was fun and exciting, but every move Cab made set her nerves on fire.