The Sheriff And The Impostor Bride

Her eyes widened in surprise again. “Am I under arrest?”

“No, ma’am.” he was quick to assure her. “But I think the atmosphere at the station is a little more conducive to conversation than your trailer is.”

“Conversation?” she echoed. “Sounds to me like you have something more along the lines of interrogation in mind.”

He shook his head in firm denial. “No, I’d just like for you to clarify a few things for me is all.”

“Then I’ll clarify them right here.”

Riley sighed. She was digging in. He could see it from a mile away. Miss Sabrina Jensen wasn’t going anywhere with him today. “Fine,” he told her. “Then I’ll just give old Joseph Wentworth a call and let him know you’re safe and sound and living right here in Wallace Canyon at the Westport Trailer Park, lot number thirty-two.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “They don’t call them trailer parks anymore,” she said. “This is a mobile home community.”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I think Mr. Wentworth will still be interested to know where you are.”

Without waiting for acknowledgment, Riley moved gingerly over to the settee to retrieve his coat and hat, keeping Miss Sabrina Jensen in his peripheral vision at all times. Hey, you never knew. He had settled his hat on his head and was shrugging into his coat when she took a step toward him. But only one. It was as if she were as fearful as he was that getting too close would create something between them that they couldn’t quite control. Like spontaneous combustion, for instance.

“Sheriff?” she said.

He finished buttoning himself up and looked at her. “Ma’am?”

“I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t notify the Wentworths of my whereabouts.”

That didn’t exactly surprise him. “Why not?”

She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, then, why don’t you come down to the station with me right now and tell me all about it? I don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. In case you didn’t notice, Wallace Canyon is kind of a small town. Things are a bit slow here.”

She nibbled her lower lip, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to come clean. And God help him, Riley decided he really, really liked how she did that. It made him wonder how it would feel to have those even, white teeth nibbling his lower lip, too. Not to mention some of his other body parts.

“I can’t go into it right now,” she told him, interrupting what had promised to be a very nice daydream. “I, um...I have a...a a doctor’s appointment. In...in thirty minutes. And I can’t miss it.”

“You gonna see Dr. Slater in town?” he asked, already knowing the answer. There was, after all, only one doctor in Wallace Canyon, a general practitioner. The next closest one was an hour away and specialized in podiatry.

She nodded. “Uh-huh. Dr. Slater. That’s who I’m seeing, all right. Ol’ Doc Slater.”

He eyed her warily again. “Dr. Slater is only forty-seven. And she really hates being called ‘Doc.’”

Her eyes widened. “Oh. I see. It, uh...it’s my first appointment.”

He nodded, but still felt that edge of suspicion twisting up his spine. “Okay. Then you can come by the station after you’re finished. You know where the station is?”

She nodded again. “Sure. Sure I do.”

“Then I’ll see you in about an hour?”

She licked her lips. “Uh...better make it an hour and a half,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ll see you then, Miss Jensen.”

“Yeah. Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

For some reason, she seemed to be awfully worried about something. Then again, being summoned to the police station, even for something as minor as questioning, probably roused more than a few concerns in a person.

“I look forward to having my questions answered,” he said, lifting two gloved fingers to the brim of his hat in farewell.

And then Sabrina Jensen said the strangest thing in response. “Yeah. I will, too.”

Three

Rachel closed the door on Sheriff Riley Hunter, Wallace Canyon PD, bolted it as quickly as she could, then leaned against it with all her might. Somehow, she hoped doing so might keep all her problems at bay, and keep all of her lunch in her stomach. But even after shutting her eyes and taking ten deep breaths, even after silently uttering her favorite daily affirmations, even after that...that...that whattayacall...that visualization thingy where she tried to see herself floating peacefully on a raft in the middle of a swimming pool...

She sighed deeply. Even after all that, she was still shaking like a jackhammer, and her stomach was still rolling. Her legs finally buckled under her, and she slid slowly down along the door until she’d crumpled in a heap on the floor. Then she buried her face in her hands and bit back a groan.

She’d just told a pack of lies to a police officer! A really cute one! Now what was she going to do? More to the point, what on earth would bring a really cute police officer to Sabrina’s mobile home in the first place? Why were the illustrious Wentworths of Freemont Springs looking for her, to the point of siccing the police on her?

Rachel covered her mouth with a loose fist and replayed the scene that had just transpired between her and Sheriff Gorgeous, feeling sicker and more confused with every passing moment. Could one of the Wentworth grandsons be the father of her sister’s baby? she wondered. If so, it would answer at least a few of the questions spinning around in Rachel’s muddled brain. Hadn’t Sabrina just said on the phone that the baby’s father came from “a prominent Oklahoma family,” one that had a lot of money and power and influence? And Sabrina lived in Tulsa, not far from Freemont Springs at all. It was certainly possible that she had crossed paths with one of the Wentworths.

That had to be it, Rachel thought. That was the only explanation that made any sense. Somehow, Sabrina must have become romantically involved with one of the Wentworths, and had gotten pregnant as a result of the relationship. And now, evidently, the Wentworths had found out about the baby, and they were looking for the baby’s mother.

Boy, the twin sister was always the last to know.

Then Rachel remembered something else her sister had said on the phone. That the baby’s father’s family was trying to take the baby away from her. Oh, no. Oh, jeez. Oh, man. No wonder Sabrina was on the run. No wonder she was hiding out and didn’t want to tell anyone where she was. Just what had Sabrina gotten herself into?

And just what had Rachel gotten herself into? Not only was she now a part of this whole thing, but she’d just lied to the law like a big dog. That was probably illegal, and was certainly immoral. And no doubt ineffective to boot, because she was a terrible liar, always had been, always would be.

Hoo boy, was she in it now. Deep.

It was just that she hadn’t known what to do. Even on her best day, when she wasn’t worried sick about her sister’s welfare, Sheriff Riley Hunter was the kind of man who would send Rachel into a tailspin. For Pete’s sake, he’d been sooo handsome. And charming. And sexy as all get-out. The moment he’d entered Sabrina’s trailer—or rather, mobile home, she corrected herself— he’d taken over the place, filling it physically, spiritually, completely. And Rachel just hadn’t known what to do. So she blithered like an idiot, told one lie after another, and confused herself so badly that now she had no idea what to do.

She blamed her instincts, which were in no way reliable. Her first instinct had been to protect Sabrina and the baby at all costs—which, now that she thought about it, had probably been a pretty good reaction to have. But her second instinct had been to play her hand close, to feel the sheriff out and see what kind of light he might shed on the situation. Which, too, now that she thought about it, probably hadn’t been such a bad thing to do, either, all things considered.

So it must have been her third instinct that had tripped her up, the one that had urged her to keep mum about her own nebulous part in whatever was going on. Which, on second thought, hadn’t really been all that dishonest, because she didn’t know what was going on anyway.

Okay, so maybe her instincts weren’t that unreliable, after all, she amended. Still...

She really hadn’t known what was going on, she tried to reassure herself. Not when she’d started lying anyway. And by the time she’d begun to get some kind of fuzzy picture regarding Sabrina’s situation, she’d been too far gone into Fabrication Land to find her way back. And now, even though things were starting to fall into place, she wasn’t altogether certain that she should start telling the truth. The father of Sabrina’s baby appeared to be a member of one of the most powerful, most influential families in the state. And evidently, they wanted possession of that baby, to the point of bringing in the law.

Contrary to the act she had attempted to play with Riley—however badly—that she’d never heard of the Wentworths, Rachel, like everyone else in Oklahoma, knew exactly who they were.

Who knew what motivated them, or what lengths they would go to to get their hands on Sabrina’s baby? Who knew who they had on their payroll, or how successful they’d be in their efforts? Oh, sure, they seemed like a nice enough family—on the outside, at least—from what scraps of gossip and chitchat she had heard about them over the years. But the Wentworth kids had been in and out of minor trouble a lot, too, from what she’d also heard over the years. And who could tell what people were capable of? Especially rich people. They always acted as if they were above the law.

Or, at least, Rachel assumed that rich people always acted as if they were above the law. That was what she’d always heard, anyway. She didn’t actually know too many rich people herself. Or any, for that matter. Still, one heard stories about such things. As far as she knew, the Wentworths might very well be manipulating the legal system, and who knew what—or who—else, to further their own interests.

They might very well be looking for Sabrina just so they could take her baby away from her. They had money and resources, and no doubt friends in high places, where Sabrina had nothing but a bartender sister and truck driver father and a dream of self-employment that was anything but fulfilled. If the Wentworths decided to take her baby away from her, they could probably find some way to do it. Hey, it could happen. From outward appearances, they had far more going for them than Sabrina Jensen did.

At this point, Rachel simply did not know what to think or what to do. Without meaning to, she had become involved in this thing, almost as much as Sabrina was. All she could do now was try to see it through to the end, until Sabrina and her baby were assured a lifetime of love and safety and togetherness. Whatever she had to do to ensure that for her twin, Rachel would do it. Even if it meant lying to a cute sheriff. It was for a good cause, right? The ends justified the means, didn’t they?