The Lawman's Runaway Bride. Patricia Johns
Toby cleared his throat and looked down. “I’m used to interviewing suspects, sir, so talking with them isn’t an issue. It’s just that I don’t tend to...come across right. Normally those kinds of assignments are saved for officers with a softer touch.”
“That’s what we’re working on here,” Chance said frankly. “The softer touch.”
“So, if I did this—”
“No binders.” This was an option he gave nearly all his trainees, and 95% of them chose to avoid the binders. There was something about county-approved sensitivity training that rubbed just about every officer the wrong way.
A smile flickered at the corners of the younger man’s lips. “Fine. I’ll do the interviews with the families. But if they complain about me—”
Chance had hoped that he’d agree, and not only because it would be of service to the community right now. Toby Gillespie was behaving like a military man, and it wasn’t working with the police force. There was a certain amount of discipline and respect for command authority that the two careers had in common, but Officer Gillespie was suffering from something that had happened in the military—at least that was Chance’s best guess—and it was bleeding into his work on the force.
“You’ll start with me, remember? It’ll be fine. In the meantime, you’ll be assigned a cruiser and you can start patrol.”
Chance didn’t want to grieve for his brother with an audience, but sometimes helping a good officer get over his own issues meant a certain amount of vulnerability.
Lord, I hate this, he admitted silently. I asked You to help me heal, and now everything seems to be about Noah all over again.
He didn’t want to face this, but it didn’t look like he’d have a choice. He’d prayed that God would help him to work through his own grief, and sometimes when God answered a prayer, He did it with all the subtlety of a pile of bricks.
* * *
Sadie dropped her bag onto the seat of a kitchen chair and ran a hand through her hair. The meeting with the mayor had been more exhausting than she’d anticipated. There had been a very small and naive part of her that had been hoping that seeing Chance again would spark the old friendship they used to share, before those lines had blurred. Back when their relationship had been simple and sweet, she’d looked forward to seeing him, chatting with him, sharing jokes. Five years ago, Chance had been fun.
Marrying into a family that you honestly liked was a smart move, and that had been part of what had kept her moving toward the wedding. Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were kind and compassionate people—but they also knew how to stay out of a young couple’s relationship. Chance had been a good friend, too, and she had pleasant memories of sitting in his cruiser on a summer day, her bare feet up on the dashboard as she chipped away at that serious shell of his.
Feet down, he’d say.
Make me, Officer. She’d shoot him a teasing smile, and he’d crack a smile at that point—possibly imagining what it would take to get her to do as she was told. Personally, she thought he enjoyed the challenge.
She’d thought that flirting was safe—this was Chance, after all—but maybe she’d been naive about that, too. Because the day before the wedding, Chance had swung by her place to drop off some place cards that Nana needed for the reception. While talking on the porch, everything had changed...melted away into a foggy moment as their eyes met and the world faded away around them. He’d pushed a piece of hair away from her face, and as he did so, his eyes had locked on her lips, and she’d known that he was thinking about kissing her. She was an engaged woman, after all—she knew what that looked like. And he’d confessed his feelings.
I should have asked you out first, because watching you fall in love with my brother has been agony. I’m not saying I’m better for you than he is, I’m just— Never mind.
You what?
If you ever changed your mind about Noah, I’d be the first in line.
Her heart still lurched at the memory. In that moment, an innocent friendship with her future brother-in-law suddenly came into a new light. He obviously felt a whole lot more for her than she’d realized, and that moment had startled her awake in more ways than one. First of all, it made her realize that she’d never felt breathless and off balance with Noah. And second, she’d recognized that the life she’d agreed to wasn’t going to be enough.
Sadie rubbed her hands together. Nana’s house was always a little cold. Old houses were like sieves in the winter, the warm air flowing out as fast as it was pumped in. The house was small and white, with pink shutters that Sadie had painted herself when she was about thirteen. It stood at the end of Sycamore Street, just down from Blessings Bridal Boutique. As a girl, Sadie used to walk past that shop and stare into the windows at elegant bridal gowns. Was that why she’d been so quick to accept Noah’s proposal? But then, what girl didn’t want a wedding? She couldn’t let herself feel guilty about that. She’d been twenty-five when he proposed, not exactly a wisp of a girl, and she did want to settle down. She wanted a family, kids...
“So?” Nana prompted. She stood at the sink rinsing some dishes. Her hair was white and pulled back into a bun, and she wore a pair of pleated jeans and a faded blouse.
“I’ve got the job,” Sadie confirmed.
“That’s my girl.” Nana turned off the water and reached for a dish towel to dry her hands. “When I spoke with Eugene, he was quite excited. Apparently, our chief of police has been digging in his heels somewhat—”
“Chance,” Sadie corrected. “Our chief of police is Chance Morgan.”
Everyone else might be used to calling him chief, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. He was Chance—the guy she used to tease and hang out with.
“Yes.” Nana smiled wanly. “And how did that go?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped.” Sadie poured herself a cup of tea from a cozy-covered pot on the counter. “He’s not thrilled to be working with me.”
“He took his brother’s death hard,” Nana said. “We all did, really. Noah was universally loved...” She winced. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad.”
“I know, I know.” Sadie sighed. Her grandmother had been on her side when it came to ditching her own wedding. Nana had seen the writing on the wall, too, apparently.
Nana hung the towel over the oven handle. “Chance wouldn’t speak of you after you left. Not to me, not to anyone.”
“Really?” Sadie frowned. “He was that angry?”
Whatever he’d felt five years ago for her seemed to be safely gone. All she’d seen in his face was resentment—and she probably deserved it.
“Angry, loyal to his brother, maybe even a little betrayed himself.” Nana took another mug from the cupboard and poured it full of tea. “My point is, he’s bound to have a few residual feelings.”
“Residual feelings.” Sadie chuckled and took a sip. Her grandmother had no idea. “I suppose you could call it that. I’m pretty sure he can’t stand me. He wouldn’t even stay to drink his coffee in my presence.”
“He walked out on you?” Nana frowned. If there was one thing her grandmother couldn’t abide, it was rudeness, but Chance didn’t exactly count as rude. He was angry, obviously, and not thrilled to be working with her, but he’d always been so controlled, so proper. He was a cop to the core.
“After he paid for our coffee and bought me a piece of pie,” Sadie admitted with a shake of her head. “Noble to the last. I’m meeting him tomorrow morning at his office so we can sort out a few details for this ceremony.”
“That’s good.” Nana nodded. “You both need this.”
“Do we?” Sadie asked with a wry smile. “I’m