The Sheriff Catches a Bride (10 page)

She made a face. “I need a new job.”

“Really? I thought you were pretty good at the one you have. I’ve heard you can tell from the ring if a couple is meant to be together.” He reached across the table and touched her engagement ring.

She tried to pull her hand away. “That’s a whole other can of worms,” she said.

He held onto it, touching her ring again. “What about this one? What does it tell you?”

Her shoulders slumped and the fight went out of her. “Nothing,” she said in a quiet voice. “Not a damn thing. It never did. I didn’t even know I could tell people’s futures from their rings until I started working for Emory. When Jason gave me this one I didn’t get a twinge! We’re over, Cab. I’m going to leave him.”

“Really?” He had to fight back a smile, jerk that he was. Forcing his face into concerned lines, he took Rose’s hand and squeezed it. He hadn’t seen that one coming. Maybe that explained why Rose had driven out this way. Maybe she wasn’t ready to tell her closer friends but needed someone to talk to nevertheless.

“You’re the only one I’ve said that to,” she said, echoing his thoughts. “I haven’t even talked to Jason about it. I don’t know what I’m going to say.” Her eyes filled with tears and he stood up and rounded the table to get to her side. Instinct had him gently pulling her into a hug, and she came willingly, resting her head against his chest for a minute. Cab relished the feel of her in his arms. He knew she only wanted comfort from him, but he’d take what he could get. Maybe one day soon she’d be ready for more. When she pulled back a few minutes later, he tried to bring things back to normal.

“Sit. Finish your dinner.” He nodded toward the remains of her food.

“I think I am finished.” But she took her seat again. He made his way back to his, wishing he could stick closer to Rose, but he refused to take advantage of the situation. She needed to tie things off with Jason before he asked her out. He frowned in concentration. He didn’t want to back off too far, either, or Jason might find a way to recapture Rose’s heart.

He couldn’t let this visit of hers be a one-off thing. He needed to make a plan with Rose to do something neutral, but fun. Something that couldn’t be construed as a date, but would throw them together again. Helping her build her shed was the obvious choice, but he had the feeling she’d refuse as vehemently as she’d done earlier today. He needed to think of something else.

The solution hit him as Rose picked up her plate to carry it to the sink.

“You need to learn to shoot.”

“I beg your pardon?” She looked at him askance. Cab scrambled to find an explanation that would convince her.

“You have trouble being assertive. Lots of women do. When Ethan took over sawing the wood for you today, it made you mad but you didn’t do anything about it.” She opened her mouth and he knew she was about to point out that he’d tried to do the same thing, so he barreled on. “When we give presentations on safety to women, we tell them they need to learn skills that increase their confidence. If you’re assertive, people won’t bully you.”

“What kind of skills?”

“Karate is a good example, but I don’t teach karate. I do train people to shoot firearms, though, and that skill often gives people confidence, too. Especially women, who tend to be afraid of guns. Have you ever fired a shotgun?”

“No.”

“Pistol? Anything?”

She shook her head and he felt a surge of satisfaction.

“How about I take you out on Saturday morning? Just for an hour. That’ll leave you plenty of time to work on your shed or whatever other projects you have. What do you say?” He waited for her reaction impatiently.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I think you’re right. I do need to learn to be assertive.” She scraped her plate into the trash. “But now I guess I’d better help you clean up and get going.”

“It’s early,” he said with a glance at his watch. “I’m not in a big hurry to call it a night. Want to catch a movie on television?”

He regretted the offer the moment he made it. He’d meant to play it cool. He didn’t want to rush her. Now she’d turn him down and he’d lose all the ground he’d gained with her tonight.

“Okay,” she said.

She’d watched this movie
with Cab for nearly an hour, and she had no idea what it was about. The minute she’d followed him into the living room, her nerves had set alight. The tears she’d shed earlier seemed to have washed Jason clean from her system and left her feeling lighter. Freer. Like a heavy weight had been lifted from her chest. It felt good to admit out loud that she and Jason were over, although she wished the actual breakup was out of the way already. At least her tree house was underway. Now she needed to find an apartment. And a job. Without using Emory as a reference.

Cab shifted, distracting her. He was so close. Too close. She had sat at one end of the couch and expected Cab to take the other end, but to her surprise he sat down right beside her. And since he was probably a hundred pounds heavier than her, he put a significant dent in the cushion that left her sitting on an incline. As much as she tried to hold her ground she kept sliding toward him.

He shifted again and she slid some more until their thighs touched. Rose held her breath, aware of the man beside her in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever been with Jason. His long legs, encased in faded jeans, played havoc with her nervous system. Everything about Cab was masculine and it made her want to melt against him. In the early days she must have felt something similar for Jason. Now when she thought of him she didn’t feel a thing.

She felt something for Cab, though.
Touch me
, she thought at him.
Go on. Touch me
.

He shifted a third time and she found her cheek nearly pressed against his arm.

“Hello,” he said, looking down at her and chuckling, his voice a low rumble.

“I’m not trying to make a move on you. I just keep sliding,” she said.

“Well, come here, then,” he said, and she shivered in anticipation. What did he have in mind? He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her even closer. “Comfy?”

His voice, a sexy murmur, shot right through her. “Um… yeah,” she said. She was comfy. She could hear Cab’s heartbeat where she leaned against him. Slow and steady. Strong. She let out her breath in an uneven sigh. She wasn’t sure what they were doing here. She might not be making a move, but it sure seemed like Cab was.

She wished he would.
Kiss me
.

He brushed his fingers down her arm and laced them between hers, and for one heart stopping second she thought he would bend down and kiss her. Instead, he sighed, tugged her ring gently and let go of her hand.

Disappointment flooded her. She wanted to yank her ring off right now, but that wouldn’t be enough. Cab was right; she needed to end her relationship with Jason before she could start a new one. At least he didn’t remove his arm from around her shoulders. She’d take what she could get for now. She settled in to watch the movie, but every minute next to him was delicious agony. If he wouldn’t touch her, she wanted to touch him. She struggled not to rest her hand on his knee and feel the muscles beneath his jeans. She wanted to slide her palm up his thigh. She wanted to tilt her head back and kiss him. Once in a while he moved his hand over her arm in a light caress and she had to bite back a moan.

An hour later she walked with Cab to her truck, dizzy with longing for him. Despite her best intentions her thoughts had been full of images of them together. Cab stroking her, suckling her breasts, pushing her legs apart. She was thankful for the darkness as he opened the door for her, but as she moved to get in, he took her hand and for one moment Rose thought he’d pull her close and give her a kiss.

She leaned toward him, all too ready.

But he didn’t. He squeezed her hand and let go. A little dizzy and highly disappointed, she climbed into the seat.

“Rose?” he said when she’d strapped on her seatbelt. His face was in shadow; she couldn’t see his eyes. “Talk to Jason.”

A zing of electricity shot through her as she completed his sentence in her head.
Talk to Jason so we can be together.

“I will,” she said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat. “Good night.”

But Cab hesitated, his hand still on the door. He leaned down closer to her. “You know, I don’t like the idea of you driving home by yourself at this time of night. I’ll just grab my truck. You go first. I’ll follow.” He must have seen her look of surprise because he added, “Don’t worry; I’m not going to come in. I won’t even ask. I just don’t like the idea of you being alone on these country roads.”

Rose frowned. If he going to make a move after all, he wouldn’t do it in the carriage house Emory Thayer owned. He’d keep her here where they couldn’t be observed. He actually meant he wanted to drive behind her all the way into town. As if she was incapable of making it home by herself.

The buzz of longing that had grown inside her during the last couple of hours faded. On the one hand, his concern was sweet. On the other hand, his concern was… ridiculous. It was something her father would try. Or Emory. “Cab, it’s a ten minute drive,” she said gently. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s no trouble and I’ll sleep a lot better if I know you’ve gotten home.”

“It’s barely nine o’clock.” Her voice developed an edge. Damn, she’d had fun tonight—she was on fire for him—and she didn’t want to argue, but she couldn’t let this slide. She remembered what he’d said earlier about her inability to stand up for herself.

“Humor me, okay?” He smiled and she wanted to humor him. She really did. But she was sick and tired of people telling her what to do, as if she wasn’t old enough to make up her own mind. She was twenty-four. Plenty mature to handle a ten-minute drive to town.

“It’s not necessary,” she tried again.

“It is for me. I promise I won’t even stop. I’ll drive right on by and swing back home.” He shut her door carefully and rapped his knuckles on the roof twice, as if giving her the signal that she was allowed to start her truck. Her annoyance blossomed into anger. It’d be one thing if this was a ruse to get closer to her, but it wasn’t; it was just a way to control her. What if she wanted to go visit someone else? What if she wanted to run an errand or stop and get ice cream?

What if she felt like driving in circles around Chance Creek? It wasn’t any of his business.

Damn it, why did everyone feel the need to parent her?

She stifled the urge to gun the engine and roar out of the driveway, but all she needed was for Cab to come after her with his sirens blaring. No, she’d have to handle this like an adult. Next time she saw him she’d explain that she appreciated his concern, but she didn’t need his supervision, thank you very much.

And if that didn’t work, she’d kick him.

‡
Chapter Six

W
hen Fila left her new friends
in Washington, D.C., they begged her to come with them.

“You can crash with us,” Carla said. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

But Fila knew she had to put more distance between her and the men chasing her. That was another blessing America had to offer: its enormous size. She had money. Anna Langway had seen to that. Anna had first come to her village two years ago with a humanitarian project to immunize children against tuberculosis. Fila had managed to get her alone, and spill her story in rusty English that soon became fluent again. She told her of her youth spent in the United States. About the funeral that brought her family back to Afghanistan. About the shootings, and her delivery into Taliban hands.

Anna promised to do what she could to help, but when she came back the next year she said the organization she’d gone to for aid—Aria’s House, whose mission was to provide a home for child-brides who’d run away—had its funding cut and they had nothing to spare for her. Anna told her not to give up hope; she’d look for another way, but by the time she’d arrived in Fila’s village a third time, Fila had grown into a woman with haunting eyes and long, dark hair. Her high cheekbones and pretty figure made her stand out. Anna took one look and said, “It’s a miracle they haven’t married you off yet.”

“They plan to, next month,” Fila told her, and filled her in on all the details.

“He will be rewarded with many virgins in heaven,” she’d heard the men say of her husband-to-be. “But he will have one virgin while he remains on earth. A taste of what’s to come.”

“Aria’s House is back,” Anna whispered to her. “Aria Cruz is dead, but others have stepped in to endow it and her daughter sent a large donation.”

Fila had felt a surge of hope. Everyone had heard of Aria Cruz, the American woman who campaigned for the rights of Afghani women on her yearly trips to their country. Aria was an inspiration to those who remembered the way things were before the Taliban, when many women went to school and some even had careers outside their homes.

Aria’s work saved young girls from marriages to older or abusive husbands, but the rumor was she’d been killed by the Taliban herself. Others said a car accident claimed her life back in the United States. After Anna’s last visit, Fila had figured Aria’s House’s doors were closed for good.