The Lawman's Runaway Bride

Color rose in her cheeks. “I did love him, Chance. I wasn’t some monster who took advantage of Noah. I loved him.”

If she’d loved Noah like she claimed, she could have been kinder in her rejection of him.

“And you want this ceremony?” he demanded.

“I’m not talking about myself!” she snapped. “I’m talking about his friends, his cousins, his extended family. People in Comfort Creek loved him. You aren’t the only one who lost him, you know.”

“And they got to grieve for him—at his funeral. We’ve done the public display. It’s enough already.”

“What about the other families?”

Chance shook his head. “You see the stories online—some heart-wrenching news spot that features the grieving family left behind from a soldier killed in the war. People love it—they gobble it up. They shed a tear in sympathy, post it on social media, feel like they’ve done the patriotic thing. It’s entertainment.”

“And you’re afraid this ceremony is going to be used the same way.”

“You think it won’t?” he asked. “This isn’t for the community. This is for the mayor. It’s that simple.”

Sadie ran her free hand through her hair, tugging it away from her face. She still had that smattering of freckles over her nose that made her look younger than she really was, and combined with her green-flecked eyes...he pulled his attention away from those details.

“I’ve been hired to put together a commemorative ceremony for the town,” she said slowly. “I report to Mayor Scott—as do you, I believe. This isn’t about what I want, or what you want, this is about my client. I don’t have much choice.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He leaned back in his chair. This had been what Sadie had always been like—strong, focused. “This isn’t personal to you, is it?”

“I can’t give you an answer you’d like,” she retorted. “If I say yes, it is personal, you’ll tell me I have no right to personal feelings after what I did to Noah. If I say no, it’s just business, then I’m the heartless wretch.”

She had a point, and he smiled wryly. He didn’t want to be friends with Sadie again. Friends had to be able to trust each other, and he didn’t trust Sadie as far as he could throw her.

“Yesterday, you said we needed to be able to work together,” she went on. “Do you still believe that?”

“Like I said, we don’t have much choice.”

“I won’t take up more of your time than I have to.” She pulled a business card out of her purse and slid it across his desk. “This is my cell phone number if you need to get in touch later on.”

“Great.” He took her card and tucked it into his front pocket, then passed her one of his own. “That’s my number.”

“Thank you.” She tapped it against the desktop. “Should we get started, then? We’ll need to decide on a musical style, both tasteful and evocative...”

Outside the office door, there was a scramble of feet, some raised voices and a bang as something large hit the floor. Chance jumped up and crossed the office in five quick strides. He hauled open the door and looked out.

Toby had a teenager in cuffs, and when the boy resisted, Toby nearly lifted him off his feet as he propelled him forward. Chance knew the kid—it was Randy Ellison. Chance knew better than to undermine his officers in public, but a quiver of irritation shot through him. Randy was all of sixteen, and he didn’t need to be roughed up by the cops in his town; that wouldn’t resolve a thing for the troubled youth.

“Officer Gillespie,” Chance called. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“Consumption of alcohol under the legal age, public consumption, verbal abuse to an officer of the law, resisting arrest—”

Randy shot a baleful glare over his shoulder. “My brother-in-law’s a cop, you know!”

Randy jerked his arm, and in response Toby simply raised the cuffs a couple of inches, and Randy froze as the pain hit his shoulder. Bryce Camden wasn’t here, however; he was on patrol. Toby didn’t seem fazed by the kid’s attitude, and the only sign he showed of any kind of emotional response was a ripple in the muscle along his jaw.

Before Chance could decide on a course of action, Sadie pushed past him.

“Randy!” she exclaimed, marching across the bull pen. “For crying out loud, let go of him! You’re going to dislocate his shoulder doing that!”

* * *

Sadie knew the Ellison boys from church. She used to help out with Sunday school before she got engaged, and she’d gotten to know Randy Ellison rather well. Back then, he’d been all of eight or nine, but under that rebellious shell there had been a very tender young heart.

The officer holding Randy’s cuffed wrists eyed her with icy distance, and when Randy’s gaze met hers, she saw the recognition.

“Miss Jenkins?” The attitude melted away, and he was just a boy again—albeit a boy who shaved now.

“Officer—” she looked at the name badge on the broad, wall-like chest “—Gillespie.” She raised one brow and crossed her arms. “Let go of him. Now.”

Chance came up behind her and put a solid hand on her shoulder.

“You aren’t a commanding officer, Sadie,” he said, his voice low. “Back down.”

“Then tell him to get his hands off of Randy!” she snapped, turning to face Chance. She knew she was putting him in a difficult position, but she was tired of all this tiptoeing. This wasn’t about her and Chase this time, it was about a kid who was being manhandled by an officer four times his size. It was outright bullying!

The officer lowered Randy’s arms to a more comfortable position. It was something.

“Randy, are you okay?” she asked. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, miss.” Randy dropped his eyes to the carpet. She could smell the booze on his breath, and his eyes were a little glassy. She knew tipsy when she saw it. “My brother-in-law is a cop here... He’ll help me out.”

His brother-in-law... That’s right, Lily Ellison had gotten married a few months back. Nana had told her about it. Sadie looked over at Chance, and his expression was about as icy as Officer Gillespie’s. He nodded toward the muscular cop.

“Bring him to an interview room.”

“Not a holding cell?” the officer asked.

“You heard me. An interview room. And...” He stepped closer to the man and lowered his voice. “Be a bit nicer, would you?”

Officer Gillespie blinked, then nodded, and nudged Randy toward a hallway.

“And you—” Chance’s voice was tight, aloof.

“What?” she demanded. She regretted the attitude that oozed out of her tone, but she was angry, and it couldn’t be helped.

“You are not a police officer. You have no right to give orders in this station. I’m the boss here, and what I say goes. Don’t you ever try and throw your weight around on my turf again.”

Was he really intimidated by a woman half his size? She shook her head. “He was out of line, Chance!”

“He’s my trainee to deal with,” Chance retorted. “And that’s Chief Morgan, to you.”

The officers in the bull pen stared at them in silence, and she immediately saw her mistake. She’d been angry, and for some reason she was still having trouble seeing Chance as police chief around here. He’d never been boss when she knew him, and it looked like a whole lot more had changed than she’d realized. She swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said, lowering her voice. “It’s just that I know Randy, and I know it’s been a few years, but that boy has a good heart.”