Читать книгу The Sheriff's Runaway Bride - Arlene James - Страница 9

He’d known good times here, but tough ones, too, Zach told himself as he carried his luggage to his room, especially when it came to Lucy and his late father. George Jr. and his twin brother Vern, Zach’s uncle, had died in an auto accident when Zach was twenty, some five years after Lucy’s drowning. Zach’s mother, Marion, had followed only a few years ago. After her funeral, Zach had intended never to return here.

Now, at thirty, he was moving back into the old house. Temporarily. After the required year here, Zach had every intention of heading back to his real life, wherever that might be. He expected that his sister Vivienne and most of his cousins would do the same, especially Lucas, who couldn’t wait to get out of Clayton in the first place and hadn’t even returned for their grandfather’s funeral.

That reminded Zach that he still hadn’t heard from or about Lucas. He had an old friend with the Florida state police putting feelers out unofficially, but so far he’d learned nothing. Uneasiness prickled the skin on the nape of Zach’s neck, and he sent up a quick prayer that whatever was going on with his younger cousin would be resolved soon and safely. He feared not only for Lucas but also for their cousin Arabella, who lived in Grandpa George’s house with her triplet daughters, Jessie, Julie and Jamie, and her ward, Jasmine Turner. Arabella had taken care of their grandfather for years and deserved to inherit the house, but that would only happen if George Sr.’s other grandchildren gave up a year of their lives to fulfill the terms of the old man’s will. Zach could only pray, for her sake, that everyone could and would.

Unzipping his bags, he first stowed his personal carry gun in the drawer of the bedside table before quickly unpacking. As he worked, he wondered idly when he would see Kylie Jeanne Jones again. Maybe he’d go out to the Jones place after the Fourth. It seemed likely that she would lay low for a few days after canceling her wedding to one of the town’s most prominent sons.

Zach couldn’t understand why Kylie had ever agreed to marry Vincent in the first place. All that talk of a buy-out was just so much nonsense. Samuel never parted with a nickel of his own if he could get someone else to do so first. Besides, from what Brooke had told him and what he’d seen already, Vincent hadn’t changed much. Even if Brooke’s fears and suspicions should prove unfounded—and Zach was too good a cop to let his personal prejudices decide the matter for him—Vincent still seemed to be the sly bully that he’d always been.

After stowing his empty bags in the closet, Zach removed his service gun, holster and belt, tucking them into the top drawer of his mother’s empty dresser. All the while, he considered Kylie Jones.

She was an attractive little thing, with that waist-length cloud of light-golden-brown curls, those moss-green eyes and perfect lips. He thought of the finely boned shoulders and long slender arms displayed by the strapless wedding gown, the neatly nipped in waist and the flare of the full skirt.

Attractive? Who was he kidding? She was beautiful, breathtakingly so in her wedding gown. Much too beautiful for the likes of Vincent.

At least she’d come to her senses in time to save herself. For now. The question was whether she’d stick to her guns or let Vincent wear her down, as he would surely try to do. Vincent didn’t like to lose, even if the “prize” was something he didn’t really want. Zach hoped that Kylie would be smart enough to keep her distance from Vincent, which was probably good advice on his end, too.

The last thing Zach needed was trouble with Vincent and that side of the family, especially since Vincent’s father Pauley had managed to get himself elected mayor. Thankfully, Zach thought, I answer only to the county sheriff!

After a quick shower, he changed into comfortable jeans and a simple navy blue T-shirt before performing a fast shave and sweeping his short, ash-brown hair straight back from his brow. He saw that the barber hadn’t quite gotten all of the lighter tips on the top of his head, where the Florida sun had bleached his hair almost blond. That made the contrast between his hair and his darker brows all the more pronounced. No matter. Another trim would take care of it.

He wondered how soon his tan would fade. Probably not for a few months. He recalled that Kylie Jones had smooth, ivory skin, with just a smattering of freckles on her cheeks. Turning off that thought, he pulled on a pair of black cowboy boots. Then he took the compact 9 mm from the drawer in the bedside table and slipped it into the holster hidden in the small of his back, making sure that it was secure and easily accessible. By law, all peace officers were required to carry a handgun when off-duty. It seemed unnecessary around here, but Zach would have felt naked without the thing. And he had learned the hard way how helpless a cop could be without firepower.

Properly dressed, he went to the kitchen and helped himself to a cold glass of water. Brooke came out of her room a few minutes later dressed in patriotic style, the softly gathered skirt of her red-white-and-blue plaid sundress swirling about her ankles.

“Come on. Gabe’s waiting!”

Chuckling, Zach left the glass in the sink and walked his sister next door to meet the man who had put that silly smile on her face.

Though a wealthy businessman from Denver, Gabe turned out to be unexpectedly down-to-earth. His home displayed a certain tasteful affluence well above the norm around Clayton, but Gabe himself came off as an average guy. The look in his eyes when he welcomed Brooke told Zach that Gabe felt as much for Brooke as she did for him. Best of all, Gabe’s little boy flew into the room and literally threw himself at Brooke’s knees. She lifted him up onto her hip with such fond ease that Zach found himself clearing away a sudden lump in his throat.

He’d prayed to see Brooke as at ease with a child as she appeared to be with this one. After Lucy’s death, Brooke had vowed never to have children of her own. Now here she stood, rubbing noses with little A.J. and making goo-goo eyes at him while Gabe looked on with fierce pride and obvious love.

They moved into the living room to visit for a few minutes. Talk centered on the day’s events, starting with Zach’s swearing in that morning and culminating with the breakup of Vincent and Kylie. Though shocking, the news that the wedding had not taken place pleased Brooke.

“We weren’t invited, of course, being from George’s side of the family, but I couldn’t help wondering if she knew what she was getting into.”

The two brothers—George Sr., Zach’s grandfather, and Samuel, Vincent’s grandfather—had come to a parting of the ways more than fifty years ago. Sadly, the two sides of the family considered themselves enemies.

“Kylie was very kind that day,” Gabe said, stroking A.J.’s tiny head. The boy had gone missing while in Brooke’s care and been found by Kylie a quarter mile away in Vincent’s backyard.

Eventually the little party began forming up to leave. “So, where are we going for dinner?” Zach asked.

Brooke and Gabe looked at each other, then turned as one to him. “To the Cowboy Café. Where else?”

Zach chuckled. He had thought that they might drive over the mountain to one of the more touristy communities with their review-rated restaurants. Evidently, his little sister had well and truly settled back in Clayton. Leaving town hadn’t even occurred to her.

Some minutes later—getting a child into and out of a vehicle proved to be more complicated than Zach had realized—Zach followed his sister, Gabe and A.J. into the little café in downtown Clayton.

The old place hadn’t changed, despite the little American flags peppering the place. A couple hands from the ranches outside of town turned on their stools at the counter running down one side of the long, narrow room to see who had come through the door. Others sitting at the rustic tables crowded into the front of the room looked up to wave or nod as a raucous country and western tune blared from the jukebox near the door.

Gabe and Brooke chose a table in one corner near the antique cash register at the end of the counter, helping themselves to a battered booster seat along the way. While they settled A.J., Zach shook hands with an old schoolteacher who had recognized him. He’d barely put his backside to the chair when a slender dervish in skinny blue jeans and a red T-shirt plunked down glasses of water, including a plastic cup with a lid for the toddler. The long, golden-brown braid hanging down her back swung across her shoulder as she bent to bring her face close to A.J.’s.

“Hi, sweetie! How are you? Gerald’s made up some mac and cheese that you ought to love.” She tapped the tip of his nose with a bare, neatly trimmed fingernail and straightened. “Meatloaf to go along with it for the rest of you, if you’re interested.”

Feeling a jolt of combined recognition and surprise, Zach blinked at the waitress. She blinked back at him. At almost the same instant, they both blurted, “You!”

Obviously, Zach had underestimated Kylie Jeanne Jones. This morning she’d canceled her wedding, and this evening she served tables in the most public venue in town, sans the fake fingernails. No shrinking violet here. Just a very pretty one.

Zach couldn’t help smiling.

Sitting at home and indulging in a pity party after her canceled wedding had not appealed to Kylie one bit. She knew from experience that, when disappointment derailed one’s plans, keeping busy helped. That’s what she’d done since leaving college just months shy of graduation to come back here and help out at home financially.

She’d thought marrying Vincent would ease her family’s situation, but after spotting him making out with another woman in a parked car in the lot at the church where she had just arrived for their wedding, she hadn’t been able to go through with it. She felt surprisingly relieved about canceling the ceremony, even though it meant that her family would continue to need her wages to keep from losing their business. All things considered, after the debacle at the church, picking up an extra shift at the café had seemed like the thing to do. However, she hadn’t expected to bump into the one individual, besides her dad, who had actually witnessed the humiliating scene with Vincent today.

The deputy sheriff’s good looks struck her again. The dark blue of his eyes almost matched his navy shirt, and his smile carved that single dimple in the lean plane of his cheek. Brows and lashes a shade darker than his light brown hair, which the sun had bleached gold at the tips; a strong, straight nose and wide mouth completed the picture.

“I understand you’ve met my brother,” Brooke said wryly.

Kylie’s head snapped around. “This one’s your brother?”

Brooke inclined her head, eyes shining. “That’s our Lump-head. Better known as Zach.”

“Watch it, Gigglebot,” he shot back.

She smiled, and Kylie realized that Brooke had the same dimple. Funny, she’d never noticed that before, and she’d known Brooke since high school. She’d known, too, somewhere in the back of her mind, that Brooke had an older brother, but he’d been long gone by the time Kylie had come to Clayton.

“Then I guess your brother’s told you …” She waved a hand, unwilling to say more about canceling the wedding here in the diner. Everyone knew, of course, but they were curbing their curiosity out of sheer civility.

Brooke nodded. “To tell you the truth, I’m relieved.”

“Why is that?” Kylie knew how deep the animosity ran on both sides of the family, but she couldn’t imagine why Brooke would be concerned for her one way or another. It had been years since they’d been even casual friends, and Kylie had put herself in the enemy camp, so to speak, by becoming engaged to Vincent.

For answer, Brooke just glanced at her brother, who drawled, “Because no woman in her right mind would get involved with Vincent.”

Kylie stiffened. “Oh, really?”

Today’s events had left her emotions raw, and the criticism sounded particularly harsh coming from the man she’d been thinking of as her personal hero. Obviously, his intervention today had been all about sticking it to Vincent rather than rescuing her.

At the tone of her voice, Zach Clayton frowned. “I didn’t mean—”

Kylie interrupted him, stung and embarrassed. “What can I get you folks? I highly recommend the special, but it’s up to you.”

Gabe flashed Zach a sympathetic look and said, “Meatloaf sounds great to me.”

They all ordered the meatloaf. Gabe and Brooke chose iced tea with theirs. Zach preferred a cola.

Kylie tried not to glare at him. She didn’t care what he had to drink or know why his comment bothered her so much. Yet, for some reason she especially resented hearing her rescuer describe her as “not in her right mind.” At least he had the decency to look uncomfortable about it. Well, that made two of them.

“Suit yourself,” she barked, hurrying away.

She regretted her tone immediately. Maybe coming to work had been a bad idea after all. Feeling weary, she suddenly wished that it had been anyone but Zach Clayton standing there in that uniform today. She’d have much preferred old Diggers to have witnessed her humiliation. Then again, Diggers might not have even intervened. Everyone knew that he and Pauley, Vincent’s father and the town’s part-time, unpaid mayor, were thick as thieves.

Besides, she had much bigger problems than a little embarrassment. No matter what her father said, Kylie knew that he’d been counting on Vincent’s grandfather to buy out his share of the ranch in which they’d invested together. If only her dad hadn’t followed Samuel’s advice and put up Jones Feed & Supply as collateral for the loan. If only he hadn’t bought into the ranch with Samuel in the first place. If only Vincent could have been trustworthy. If only …

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The doves nesting in the bigtooth maple outside her open bedroom window cooed and gurgled in the cool morning air.

Kylie rolled onto her back, shoving away the covers on her bed, but she did not immediately rise. Zach Clayton’s words from the night before had played through her head incessantly.

No woman in her right mind would get involved with Vincent.

Sadly, Zach Clayton had that right. Kylie could admit now that she hadn’t been in her right mind when she’d agreed to marry Vincent.

Desperation had driven her to consider his proposal, but she had been wrong to accept. She didn’t love him. She barely even liked him, but somehow she had convinced herself that she should marry him. Idiot that she was, she had believed that he cared for her and that he would, at the very least, be a faithful husband. Thankfully she had realized the truth before saying her vows.

Still, she had been a ninny to let it get that far. Oh, she’d told herself that she could change him, but in truth she’d gotten so carried away by her hopes for her family and her delight in planning the wedding that she’d almost forgotten that the price for those things would be a lifetime of marriage to Vincent.

She considered pulling the covers over her head and pretending that yesterday hadn’t happened, but that would serve no purpose, and it might even make things worse. It would be best to show up at the church where she’d intended to be married with her head held high. Besides, her soul craved the healing balm of worship.

At least she need not fear running into Vincent there. Her ex had made it clear that he had little use for “organized religion.” Actually, it would have been much more likely that he’d have appeared at the diner last night, but she hadn’t considered that at the time. Thank goodness he’d apparently had something else to keep him busy last night. Or someone.

The door to the hallway opened, and her little sister bounced into the room. A cheerleader and distance runner, the energetic seventeen-year-old had a disposition as sunny as her long, yellow-gold hair. Kylie’s own plain brown was crinkly curly, but Mariette’s curls were as bouncy as Mariette herself. With eyes like jade instead of moss, Mariette outshone Kylie in every way, and Kylie couldn’t have been more proud of her. Having graduated as valedictorian of her class, Mariette had landed a scholarship to a small college in New Mexico where she expected to run track, but Kylie knew the scholarship wouldn’t cover everything. They’d all have to pull together to keep her sister in school.

“Oh, you’re awake already,” Mariette said. She dropped down onto the bed with one long, slender leg folded beneath her. “You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well?”

Kylie sighed and shook her head. “I feel so stupid. I had convinced myself that Vincent was God’s will for me, for all of us. I couldn’t have been more wrong.”

Mariette patted her hand. “It’s okay, sis. Mom says maybe we can sell the dress. Technically, it was never used, you know. I mean, nobody got married in it.”

Kylie laughed. “That’s true. I wore it for maybe an hour.” Finding the dress and planning the wedding had been the most enjoyable part of her engagement, and she knew any number of Internet sites where she could “remarket” the dress and decorations. Kylie had become something of an expert when it came to finding wedding bargains online.

Mariette popped up off the bed. “Mom’s making a huuuge breakfast, so find an appetite. Okay?”

Kylie nodded, smiling. Usually they all fended for themselves. Lynette Jones worked side-by-side with her husband at the Feed & Supply, so no one expected her to run a short order kitchen at home. However, whenever anything threatened the family, whenever anyone needed support, she broke out the pots and pans. Grateful for a loving family, Kylie found, to her surprise, that she actually had an appetite this morning.

She went to the table twenty minutes later in her bathrobe, freshly showered, her wet hair streaming down her back.

“I’m glad not to have to face holidays with that slimy old man,” she declared, meaning Samuel.

A smaller, leaner version of her own daughters, Lynette seemed trim and fit next to her husband’s larger, rounder form. While his kinky blond hair thinned into nonexistence, her long, wavy locks had silvered to the point where the original golden brown had all but disappeared.

“Now, now, sugar pie,” Gene said mildly, dipping his pancake into heated syrup. “You know what the lawyer said.”

“Just because there’s no proof,” she retorted, “doesn’t mean Samuel Clayton didn’t cheat us. I don’t care what he says—he had to know those assay reports were incorrect. He just wanted someone else to help him pay for his ranch.” She exhaled sharply. “Now he’s running cattle, and we’re making payments on land we can’t afford to use and no one wants to mine. At least we don’t have to call him family.”

Kylie had long known her mother’s feelings toward Vincent’s grandfather, but Samuel had not forced her father to take out that loan, after all. It did seem odd, though, that after seeking a partner for the venture, he’d come up with the cash to purchase cattle on his own. Meanwhile, Kylie’s parents struggled with onerous loan payments. When it had become obvious that no mining company was interested in going after the smattering of silver on the place, Kylie had left college and come home to help. Together, she and her parents had caught up the payments and kept them current, but doing so left very little to spare. One bad month at Jones Feed & Supply and they’d be lost.

But, Kylie thought guiltily, if the business went to the bank, her father would have to move the family back to Denver to find work, and she would leave Clayton behind once and for all. Maybe she could finish school then and find a way to open that bridal shop in Denver that she’d always wanted.

“I thought Vincent was okay,” her sister admitted, “but I’m glad you didn’t marry him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

Kylie felt tears well up in her eyes. How selfish of her to think of her own desires and ambitions when her sister’s remained at risk and her parents’ business teetered on the brink of disaster!

“You wouldn’t be at all prejudiced, of course,” she managed, finishing up her breakfast.

“I certainly would,” Mariette admitted with a cheeky grin.

Laughing despite herself, Kylie pushed back from the table and went to dress.

Almost an hour later, the entire family piled into the battered white, dualie pickup truck for the almost two-mile ride into town. Gene and Lynette had bought the small acreage and picturesque log house on Waxwing Road—along with the business in town—from Edison Wilmont and his wife, who had retired to Durango to be near their daughter. It was a beautiful place built only a decade or so ago after the original frame house had burned.

Kylie had been content here throughout high school, but when she’d gone to Denver for college, she hadn’t intended to return to Clayton except for visits. She’d planned a career in business, but only when she’d interned at one of the city’s largest bridal shops had she found her calling. She loved putting together weddings and had quickly made up her mind that she wanted her own business as a wedding planner.

For the good of her family, she’d tried to put that dream aside when she’d agreed to marry Vincent, but now it came roaring back to life. Sadly, she didn’t see that dream coming true anytime soon, but maybe things would be different once Mariette finished college. Until then, Kylie was well and truly trapped in Clayton, Colorado.

But it wouldn’t always be that way, she promised herself, and she would never again compromise her dream. Doing so had been a grave mistake.

With that silent vow, she turned her thoughts elsewhere and immediately found herself wondering if Deputy Sheriff Zach Clayton would be in church today. Or did he, like the other Clayton men of her acquaintance, believe that he did not “need” to attend worship?

Knowing what he must think of her, she almost hoped that he would not be there. The day promised to be challenging enough. However, she hated to think that he was no different from Vincent. That would be sad, indeed. Sad and, in a way she didn’t want to examine too closely, very disappointing.