Читать книгу The Lawman's Rebel Bride - Amanda Renee - Страница 8

Chapter One

“Harlan Slade, you owe me a wedding!”

Belle Barnes stormed past the police department’s front counter, pushed through the attached swinging door and marched over to the deputy sheriff’s desk. Gasps aside, no one attempted to stop her. She’d seen the inside of the station more times than she could count. And Lord knew her history with Harlan was as well-known as it was long.

“Belle!” Harlan jumped from his chair, almost knocking it over. The incredulous stare of his piercing blue eyes almost made her turn tail and run. He gave the room a quick scan before returning his attention to her. “What are you talking about?”

“I need you to marry me...well, at least pretend to.” There was no sense in sugarcoating why she was there.

Harlan cocked his jaw, grabbed the Stetson off the top of the filing cabinet behind him and pulled it down low, covering his thick chestnut-colored hair. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private.”

Private was the last thing Belle wanted. Private meant being alone with Harlan and that conjured up all sorts of memories and uncomfortableness she’d prefer to avoid. But she was desperate and she didn’t have time to waste on foolish pride.

“Fine.” She followed him down the back hallway, away from prying eyes. If only she could pry her eyes away from the view of his jean-clad backside. The county sheriff strove for friendly casual and Harlan wore it well. The sound of his boots on the worn linoleum echoed against the walls, masking the thudding of her rapid heartbeat. Harlan swung open the heavy steel door and waited for Belle to exit first. She walked past him into the parking lot. Her bare shoulder brushed against his chest, causing her skin to prickle on contact. She inhaled sharply. Big mistake. The woodsy scent of his cologne transported her back to firelit nights snuggled up beside him. A time best forgotten.

“What’s this all about?” Harlan’s hat shaded his features from the midmorning sun, making him more difficult to read. His tan button-down uniform shirt stretched taut across his shoulders and biceps as he folded his arms. He stood wide-legged in front of her, bringing his six-foot-one-inch height closer to her five foot four. “I’m fairly confident I’m the last person you want to marry.”

That was the truth. She’d already stridden down that white-lined aisle only to watch him bolt for the church doors midceremony. There was nothing like the man of your dreams jilting you on your wedding day in front of the entire town. Belle shivered. It was close to eighty degrees in Saddle Ridge and her nerves were in overdrive. The past and the present were about to collide and she couldn’t put on the brakes. Not now. Not when her grandmother needed her most.

Belle leaned against a parked police SUV for support. “My grandmother’s Alzheimer’s causes her to regress more each day.” Saying the words aloud made the situation even more real. “She has no concept of the present, yesterday or even last week.”

“Belle. I’m sorry.” Harlan’s deep, rich voice soothed. “I’ve wanted to visit Trudy in the nursing home many times but I wasn’t sure I would be welcome.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.” Belle silently prayed for strength. “She believes we’re still getting married. There’s no convincing her otherwise. I even tried telling her we already were, but she’ll have none of it. She keeps asking for you and I’m hoping if she sees you, maybe we can tell her together that we’re eloping and it will put her mind at ease. I don’t know what else to do. In a week or two, she might regress further. I can’t promise she won’t ask for you again, but she’s growing more agitated each time she does and you’re not there.”

Harlan reached for her. His rough thumbs grazed the top of her hands. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

Belle pulled from his grasp. “Don’t do that.” She didn’t want to be comforted or touched...at least not by him. Her heart couldn’t take it. “This isn’t for me. It’s for my grandmother. I don’t want to be anywhere near you, but I will do whatever I must to make her last days comfortable, however many she has. And if that means pretending to marry you, then so be it. But I can’t do this without your cooperation.”

“I’ll do it.” Harlan checked his watch. “How about I meet you there at noon? Is Trudy still in the same place down the road?”

Belle nodded. The ease with which he agreed caught her off guard along with him knowing where her grandmother resided. Then again, their sleepy little town of Saddle Ridge in northwest Montana only had one nursing home, so it wasn’t too far of a stretch.

“Okay.” Belle tugged her keys from her bag, not wanting to be near him any longer than necessary. “I guess that’s it then. I’ll see you later. And—um—thank you.” She hadn’t wanted to make eye contact again but felt the inexplicable need to do so. The second she did, she regretted it and turned to leave.

“Belle, before you go—”

She spun to face him. “Don’t you dare say I’m sorry one more time. I’ve heard eight years of sorry every time I see you, which is why I do everything in my power to avoid you.” She gripped her keys tighter. She needed Harlan’s help and yelling at him in the police station parking lot was a surefire way to get him to back out of their agreement. “Can we please do this without dredging up the past?”

“You’re asking me to pretend to still be your fiancé on the eve of what should have been our eighth wedding anniversary. Kind of impossible, don’t you think?”

Belle’s heart hammered against her rib cage. “You remember?”

“August 1. Of course I remember.” Harlan closed the distance between them. “You’ve never let me explain why I left that day.”

“Left? Ha! You tore out of that church like your tuxedo was on fire. There’s nothing to say. Nothing to rehash. Please.”

“Okay.” Harlan held up his hands. “I’ll meet you at the nursing home at noon.”

Belle headed to her pickup, wishing she’d worn something other than flip-flops. They didn’t make for a graceful exit when you’re trying to walk away quickly. Walk? Forget that! She’d rather run just like he did. If her grandmother hadn’t still lived in Saddle Ridge, she would have fled this godforsaken town long ago and never come back.

She hopped up into her battered old truck and jammed the key in the ignition, praying it would start. Money was tight since she’d had to sell her grandmother’s house to pay for the nursing home. She had everything budgeted and there wasn’t one extra cent to dump into the thirty-two-year-old Chevy. Ol’ Red was loud, but she turned over. Belle stepped on the clutch and shifted into first, easing the truck onto Main Street. She arrived at the nursing home a few minutes later. Her boss, Dr. Lydia Presley, had been gracious enough to give her the day off. Working as a large-animal veterinarian assistant meant she wasn’t always needed during the day. Nights were a different story. When Lydia was on call, Belle was, too.

“Miss Belle, we didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” Nurse Myra greeted her as she entered her grandmother’s room. “Trudy fell asleep soon after you left.”

“I wanted to check in on her once more.” Belle lowered herself into the chair across from her grandmother. The woman who’d always been so active and full of life lay frail and motionless. The hospital bed and large safety rails dwarfed her body. Her once round cheeks and flawless complexion were sallow and gaunt. “After this morning, I’m not sure if my being here helps or upsets her.”

Trudy stirred and Myra brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. This was one time Belle was thankful she lived in a small town. Everyone in the nursing home knew her and her grandmother. She’d heard horror stories about the poor treatment of the elderly in some facilities. While she hoped those incidents were rare, she didn’t have any concerns when it came to her grandmother’s care. Trudy used to be Myra’s Sunday school teacher, as she had been to quite a few other nursing home employees.

Her grandmother was only sixty-five and had battled Alzheimer’s for the past five years. Early onset of the disease was uncommon and only accounted for 5 to 10 percent of all cases. Belle was well schooled in life-isn’t-fair. That didn’t stop her from asking, “Why Trudy?” every single day. Her grandmother was the only family she had. Her mother had given birth to her at age eighteen and took off when Belle was six. Took off as in she left Belle alone in a hotel room in Texas, never to return. At least her so-called mother had possessed the good sense to scrawl Trudy’s phone number on her left arm so the police had someone to call. Now she was losing the only person she’d ever loved, except for Harlan, and he’d stopped mattering to her a long time ago.

“Were you able to find Harlan?” Myra asked.

“How did you know?” Maybe the nursing home staff knew her better than she realized.

“I’d like to say it was a lucky guess, but Gail saw your truck at the police station on her way in.”

Of course she did. Gail was another nurse at the home. Sweet as the day is long, but the biggest gossip Saddle Ridge ever saw.

“He said he’d stop by later.”

Myra nodded, not pressing for further details. Belle was too anxious to sit around waiting for the hour of doom. She kissed her grandmother goodbye and told Myra she’d see her later. She had a few guests staying at her apartment and she needed to make sure they weren’t wrecking the place.

* * *

AT NOON, HARLAN parked his police SUV outside the nursing home. He dug into his pocket for a roll of antacids. Tearing the foil open, he popped a couple in his mouth. The three cups of coffee he’d drunk earlier were burning a hole in his chest. Steeling his nerves, he pried himself from the vehicle and made his way to the front entrance.

He removed his hat as he opened the door and looked around. Maybe it was his imagination, but the nursing home seemed too quiet as he approached the front desk.

“May I help you?” the woman behind it asked.

“Hi,” he squeaked. Well, that was embarrassing. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m Harlan Slade and I’m here to see Gertrude Barnes. Belle Barnes is expecting me.”

“Oh! You’re the guy.” A lightning bolt of recognition lit her face. She’d heard of him and presumably not in a favorable way. “She’s waiting for you in room 219. Down the hall, last room on the right.”

Pretending to be Belle’s husband—even for a few minutes—was damn close to a root canal without anesthesia. Not because he hated her. He wished it were that simple. No, Harlan had been cursed with still loving her. She’d put every ounce of faith and trust in him since the day they met in first grade. And instead of marrying Belle as planned, he’d knocked up her maid of honor.

He’d run out on their wedding because he was nineteen and nowhere near ready to be tied down. Only he ended up married to Belle’s best friend a few months later. Correction, former best friend. And he certainly didn’t do it out of love. It had been one hundred percent obligation and it came back to bite him in the ass. Molly walked out of their lives within a year, leaving him to raise their daughter alone. Which suited him fine. He’d rather raise his child in a happy, single-parent home than with a woman who blamed their little girl for ruining her life.

“Mind if I come in?” Harlan poked his head in the room. Belle jumped as if a mousetrap had gone off under her chair.

“Not at all.” Trudy beamed from her bed. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come sit with me.” She weakly motioned to a chair on the other side of the bed. Her appearance took him by surprise, but he tried not to show it. She’d always been a robust woman. The last time he’d seen her, she’d taken Dukie—her beloved schnauzer—for one of their mile-long hikes. The woman before him was almost unrecognizable.

“Hey, babe.” He set his hat on the table next to Belle, leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

The steel daggers that shot from Belle’s icy blue eyes were just about enough to knock him dead on the floor. Okay, so he didn’t need to kiss her, but he wanted their relationship to look believable.

“Belle, what’s the matter with you? Give your husband-to-be a hug. Only one more day.” Trudy clapped. “I can’t wait.”

Belle plastered a smile across her face and rose from her chair. Even in faded jeans, flip-flops and a plain white tank top, she looked like a million bucks. He used to call her his platinum angel. When the sunlight hit her long blond hair just so, she had an ethereal glow about her. He caught a glimpse of it this morning.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave it a squeeze. A little too much of one if you asked him. The scent of lavender vanilla filled his nostrils. Some things never changed. She still used the same shampoo.

“Make this quick,” she whispered in his ear. Her warm breath against his skin sent a shiver down his spine and straight to his... Nope, he needed to focus on the job he’d come to do. She released her choke hold and entwined her fingers in his. Her death grip almost brought him to his knees. “Grammy, Harlan and I would rather get married at the courthouse instead of having a big wedding.”

“Nonsense.” Trudy waved her hand. “I’ve already paid for everything.”

The comment was a harsh reminder of the money Trudy had shelled out for the first wedding that had never happened. He had tried to repay her, but she refused to take it. Telling him to keep it for the baby. And that cut him even deeper.

“It’s not that, Trudy.” Harlan’s mind raced for an excuse. “The church is double-booked tomorrow and we can’t get married there.”

“What do you mean double-booked?” Trudy scowled. “I’ve been a member of that church since I came to this country as a child. Everyone knows tomorrow is your wedding day.”

Belle stood there shaking her head. So, it wasn’t the best excuse, but she hadn’t offered any other suggestions either.

“You two are getting married tomorrow,” Trudy shouted. She shoved the covers aside and shook the bed’s safety rails. “Let me out of this contraption. I told you people I’m fine to walk. It’s only a bruised hip.”

Belle rushed to her grandmother’s side before she took a dive over the edge. “Grammy, you have to stay in bed.” She looked to Harlan for help. “She thinks she’s in the hospital after that bad fall she had a few weeks before our wedding.”

“Why are you talking like I’m not here?” Trudy stopped fighting against her and sat up in bed. “I fell and I am in the hospital.” Trudy looked around the room. “I’ve had enough of this place. I want to go home.”

Harlan moved to stand beside Belle and attempted to cover Trudy’s bare legs with a sheet. The older woman had gone from zero to overdrive in a matter of seconds.

Belle reached for the call button and pressed it. “I know you do, Grammy. You will. You’ll go home soon.”

A nurse came in and helped ease Trudy back against the bed. She adjusted it into a reclining position and double-checked the safety rails. Another woman entered the room and stood in the corner, silently watching.

“Stop fussing over me.” She swatted both women away. “Go to the church and straighten out this wedding business. You tell them I booked the date first and you’re getting married there tomorrow.”

“Okay, Grammy. We will.” Belle removed her handbag from the back of the chair and slung it over her shoulders. “I love you. We’ll go now.” Belle ran from the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Trudy.” Harlan grabbed his hat and headed down the hall in search of Belle. When he reached the front desk, the woman who’d greeted him earlier pointed to a side door. He found Belle sitting in a white rocker on the covered veranda staring toward the blue-gray mountains of the Swan Range.

Her gaze met his as he approached. “I don’t know how to watch her slip away like this.” Her fingers trembled in her lap as his own ached to brush away the lone tear trailing down her cheek before she averted her gaze.

He crouched in front of her and held her hands between his own. He expected her to recoil from his touch as she had earlier, but instead she turned her hands upward and gripped his. The longing to tug her into his arms and soothe her pain took him by surprise. He hadn’t come within a street’s width of Belle in eight years, and in a matter of a few hours her skin had seared him multiple times like a branding iron on a steer’s rump.

“I’m here for you.” His thumbs slid across the soft warmth of her inner wrists. “Whether you want me to be or not.”

Harlan sympathized with her anguish. He’d lost his father four years ago and as terrible as that had been, he couldn’t fathom having to watch his last remaining relative slowly slip away. It was only a matter of time before Belle would be alone. In many respects, she already was. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—allow her to face that grief on her own.

“I appreciate it and thank you for coming here.” A dry sob stuck in her throat. “I guess it was a waste.”

“Excuse me.” The woman who had been in Trudy’s room a few minutes earlier approached them. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Samantha Frederick, the new director here. I hope I’m not overstepping, but I overheard your dilemma. It’s not much, and nowhere near as beautiful as your church would have been, but you’re welcome to get married here tomorrow. We don’t have the space for a big reception, but the garden is in full bloom and you wouldn’t have to do anything to it. Reverend Grady is here now and I just spoke with him. He said he’d be happy to perform the ceremony. It will allow your grandmother to be a part of your wedding.”

“Oh!” Belle laughed.

Harlan stood, unable to hold back a chuckle of his own at the irony of the situation. “That’s sweet of you.”

“But completely unnecessary,” Belle interjected.

“Well, wait a minute.” Harlan tapped Belle’s shoulder. “It’s not a bad idea. Let’s at least give it some thought.”

“Please do.” Samantha smiled. “My office is next to the front desk. Come see me when you’ve decided. We’d love to have you.”

“Thank you.” Harlan removed his phone from his pocket. Tomorrow was Tuesday and he didn’t have any court dates planned. He reasoned Sheriff Parker would give him the day off to get married.

“Harlan, we can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He knew the idea sounded crazy, but it was only temporary. “We’ll stay married until—” He hated saying the words knowing they’d hurt Belle. “Until your grandmother’s memories fade. What’s a few months or even a year?”

“More like a few weeks at the rate she’s regressing.” Belle stared at her hands.

“However long, we’ll get married, live our separate lives like we already do. We’ll meet up here and visit her together, and then we’ll have it annulled.”

“How will we explain the lack of guests?”

“We can ask the employees to fill in for a few minutes. It will be fast.”

Belle stared up at him. “We can’t get a marriage license by tomorrow.”

“There’s no waiting period in Montana, but we would need to see the county clerk before she leaves today. If we sign the blood test waiver, we’ll be good to go. Besides, like you said, I owe you a wedding. It’s the least I can do.”

“Or we can hire a fake reverend,” Belle said.

“We could.” Harlan crouched down in front of her again. “But knowing you the way I do—or the way I used to—I think lying to your grandmother about something this big would bother you. I saw the look on your face in there when you told her she’ll go home soon. You hated lying to her. I don’t think you’d go through with this if it wasn’t real.”

“I would go through hell to make my grandmother happy.”

“There you have it. What’s more hellacious than marrying me on our not-so-wedding anniversary?”

“Ha!” Belle held out her hand to him. “You’ve got that right.”

He took her hand between both of his, causing her to shake her head. “What?”

“It’s supposed to be a handshake, Harlan.” She withdrew her hand and offered it again. “We’re making a deal, so let’s shake on it. And in case I don’t say it later, thank you for doing this.”

This was the second craziest thing Harlan had ever done. The first had been walking out on Belle. “Let’s get hitched.”