The Lawman's Runaway Bride

by Patricia Johns

  And if Sadie leaving him hadn’t been the impetus to his joining the army, then Chance’s feelings for her couldn’t have forced his brother’s hand, either.

  Tears blurred his eyes and he pushed back from the desk and rose to his feet. Could it be that Noah had followed his heart and his time had simply come? Could it be that God had called Noah home to Heaven, and Chance’s love for Sadie wasn’t the cause, after all?

  The tears that had been building inside of him finally burst out, and he slammed a hand against the wall and his shoulders shook in great, wracking sobs. He’d been carrying this shame for so long, but was it possible that God had never intended him to carry that burden?

  Chance loved Sadie—he still loved her. He’d never stopped. It didn’t matter if his own guilt could be erased, because it didn’t change Sadie. She’d left his brother because she didn’t want that life, and Chance couldn’t offer anything different. It would never happen between them, and maybe that was for the best.

  At least he could let go of his sense of responsibility in his brother’s death.

  God had taken Noah home, and Chance had to let go. He stood there with his hand on the wall and his heart breaking inside of him. Letting go was the hardest thing a man could do, but Chance had to let go of his brother, and the woman they had both loved. He’d have to trust God to be with him through the fire.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The remembrance ceremony was due to start at 10 a.m., and Chance arrived a few minutes early. He was in dress uniform, and the brisk winter wind chilled his face and neck, but he didn’t shiver. He’d stayed up late last night, arranging his brother’s military history, short as it was, and preparing himself to face her.

  Sadie was at the front of the square, dressed in a long gray coat that fell to her shins. Her back was to him, and it might be better that way. Her curls were pinned up in a roll at the back of her head, and she wore a black scarf around her neck, a somber look for a somber occasion. His chest physically ached at the sight of her. He’d been used to this—loving her from afar—but he wasn’t used to knowing she loved him, too. That made standing back harder. He needed to get himself into the right frame of mind before this started.

  The stage looked elegant against freshly fallen snow. The deep blue of the backdrop contrasted with the red and crimson striped streamers. The square itself had been shoveled clean, and all the benches were now lined up in perfect rows, but that wouldn’t seat everyone. Professionally, he was thinking about the officers who were helping to direct traffic and organize parking. Comfort Creek didn’t need a lot of crowd control, but as chief, he didn’t leave anything up to chance, either, and there were a few uniformed officers around the perimeter. There would be standing room in the back and on the sidewalks. But Sadie had done a good job.

  “Do you want a booklet?”

  Chance looked down to see a teenage girl holding one out to him and he accepted it with a smile. He flipped through—it looked professional and tasteful. Left to her own devices, Sadie’s ceremony would have done this town proud. And even with the mayor’s last-minute changes, it would be a respectful ceremony. He’d just have to survive it, and when he’d given the presentation he was willing to give—his brother’s military experience—then he’d deal with the mayor man-to-man. Mayor Scott might not like being crossed, but neither did Chance.

  Chance glanced around, and he spotted Officer Camden, who was on perimeter duty and Lily, his wife. The baby was in her mother’s arms, and Bryce gave Chance a respectful nod. All the officers, most of the town, knew that his brother would be honored today, but he doubted that any of them guessed how hard this was for him. He was their boss, their chief of police, and he had an image to maintain. Sometimes, an image was all a man had left.

  Randy stood several yards away, wearing a pair of dress pants that were just a bit too big and a leather jacket over a button-down shirt. The kid had put in some effort, and Chance appreciated that. Maybe some of what Chance had said to him about changing people’s minds about him had stuck. The truth was, Chance cared about that kid. He’d driven them all to the limit, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worth the work. Randy was a part of Comfort Creek, and that made him Chance’s responsibility, too.

  Chance angled his steps across the square toward Randy. Randy had pulled a red tie out of his pocket and was looking at it nervously. When he spotted Chance approaching, he shoved it back into his pocket again, the end still hanging out.

  “Morning,” Chance said.

  “Morning, sir.” Randy shoved the rest of his tie out of sight.

  “You want a hand with that?” Chance asked.

  “No, I was—” Randy’s face reddened. “I don’t know how to tie it.”

  Bryce could have shown him, but for whatever reason, Randy hadn’t asked his sister’s husband. He wasn’t asking Chance, either, for that matter, but Chance wanted to do this for him. Randy was doing his best to clean up his act, and he needed support in that.

  “Come here,” Chance said. “Turn this way.”

  Randy did as he was told, and pulled the tie out of his pocket. It was slightly rumpled, but it would do. Chance smoothed the fabric and turned up Randy’s collar.

  “So how was the ride-along?” Chance asked as he worked.

  “It was...” Randy tried to look down at what Chance was doing.

  “Look up,” Chance said. “I’ll teach you how to do this later in a mirror.”

  Randy raised his chin again. “It was good. I liked Officer Gillespie. Didn’t think I would.”

  “Good.” Chance finished the knot and tightened it.

  “He was telling me about the army,” Randy said. “Officer Gillespie used to get into a whole lot of trouble, too, before he joined. He said it made all the difference.”

  Chance folded down Randy’s collar, and his heart sank. This hadn’t been the direction he’d been trying to nudge the boy. They were here to honor fallen men, but mingled with the pride they felt was grief, too. If Randy went off to war and died, this town would have one more young man to cry over, and Chance could guarantee that Randy’s mother would never be the same again.

  Chance pushed the thought back. The kid was young—sixteen. He didn’t even shave yet, and two years from now he’d be old enough to be shipped out. But two years was a long time—enough time to grow up and even change his mind.

  “I was hoping you’d consider the police force,” Chance said. “We want to start a police cadet program next year and I was thinking of you.”

  “Me?” Randy faltered. “Thing is, Chief, when I think about what I want to be...who I want to be...” Randy was struggling to pull the words together. “My grandpa was in the air force, and on Veteran’s Day, he’d put on his uniform and he’d stand at attention, and I’d think that no one looked so proud as my grandpa. Except for maybe my mom when she looked at him.”

  “There are other ways to make your mom proud,” Chance said. “You don’t need to feel pushed into anything.”

  “I don’t feel pushed,” Randy said. “I’m kind of excited. I mean, I can’t join until I’m eighteen, but when I graduate high school, I’m going to sign up. I can be someone who makes a difference, Chief. And when I come home on leave, I’m going to surprise my mom and my brothers. I’ll like—jump out of a box or something.”

  Chance smiled at the mental image. “Okay.”

  “And my sister...” Randy swallowed hard. “I need to make some things up to her, too. She was like a second mom to us, and I’ve let her down. I don’t know how to do things right, Chief, but I think the army could teach me.”

  “Yeah, it probably could,” Chance agreed.

  “And your brother, sir,” Randy added. “I hope it’s not rude or anything to say this, but like, I always thought he was the kind of guy I’d want to be. And he was a soldier.”

  Yeah, turning out lik
e Noah wouldn’t have been a bad thing. Noah had been a good man—right down to the bone. Chance put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Follow orders and be safe, you hear me?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And stop skipping classes,” Chance added.

  “Yes, sir.” There was something in the tremor in the boy’s tone that told Chance the kid meant what he said.

  Some music started—a signal for people to take their seats, and Chance gave Randy a nod and watched as the family and friends milled about, finding their places along the benches, scooting down to make room for more. Sadie was at the front, speaking with the mayor. A lump constricted his throat as he looked at her.

  She was so beautiful...

  Even if he was released from his duty to his brother, he knew better than to try and convince a woman that she wanted something she didn’t. He was in her past, and that was where he belonged.

  Sadie turned, and her gaze moved over the crowd. She looked like she was searching for someone, but when her eyes landed on him, she stopped. Her clear hazel eyes met his, and he could see the pain etched in her expression. She felt it, too.

  That was something. They’d get through this.

  * * *

  The program started with a welcome by the mayor, then an elementary school choir filed onto stage in their all-black outfits. This was a song they’d sung for Veteran’s Day in November, but it would do nicely for today’s ceremony, as well. Sadie was watching her bulletin. She and the mayor had agreed that after the children’s choir, Sadie would announce the speeches to be made by family members, and while she’d grudgingly agreed, her stomach was in knots. She wasn’t comfortable with this, but if she wanted the mayor’s recommendation to other prominent families... If she wanted to plan Mayor Scott’s daughter’s wedding, then she knew what she had to do.

  The mayor was her client.

  The children shuffled as they waited for their director to raise her gloved hands, and they began a patriotic medley a cappella.

  Chance stood to the side, his expression granite. His eyes flickered in her direction several times, and when her gaze met his, she could see the emotion swimming there, but he was as immovable as a statue.

  Nana had been right about her—she didn’t like to have something prearranged for her. And while the mayor was her client, and while this particular client could open doors for her that would be incredibly beneficial for her business in the future, she was still feeling torn. In this job, she was responsible to the mayor, but her heart kept yearning for Chance.

  Sadie had a vision for her business, and a plan. She’d hoped the mayor’s kind offer could be a springboard to her success, but the mayor’s recommendation wasn’t the only way to grow her business. She had to be true to herself, too. The mayor was her client, but Chance was—she heaved a sigh—Chance was lodged in her heart.

  As the choir finished their piece, Sadie looked over to where the mayor sat next to Susan. Susan’s eyes were misty already, and the mayor glanced in Sadie’s direction and gave her a nod. She knew what was expected of her.

  Sadie rose to her feet as the children filed back off the stage, and she took her place behind the microphone. Her heart hammered in her throat, and she looked across the benches of familiar faces. This was their town, and they were honoring their men. But not every family wanted the spotlight or the pressure to perform at a time like this.

  The mayor met her gaze evenly from where he sat, and she saw the command in the set of his jaw. She sent up a prayer for guidance...or perhaps permission.

  “We have come together to honor the men from Comfort Creek who have given the ultimate sacrifice,” Sadie said. “Ryan Scott, Michael Flores, Terrance West and Noah Morgan.”

  Her voice quavered at Noah’s name, and she glanced toward Chance. He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at a spot in front of his feet.

  “It was suggested that we have family members share some personal memories of these men. We have two people who would like to speak today about their sons, and there are two other families who hold their loved ones close in their hearts and respectfully wish to stay silent.”

  The mayor’s face grew ashen, and his eyes flashed in anger. Susan nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek with one gloved hand and she looked over at her daughter sitting at her side, and they exchanged a sad smile. Sadie went on.

  “We all grieve differently, but we are a community and we take care of our own. Out of respect for the family members whose grief is still too fresh, we will honor our fallen with a moment of silence. Afterward, our own Mayor Scott and Mrs. Shelby West will each speak briefly in remembrance of their sons. Please rise for a moment of silence.”

  The seated crowd rose to their feet, and hats came off and heads bowed. Sadie glanced toward Chance and she saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. He gave her a nod of thanks, then bowed his head, too.

  This was the right thing to do—not only by Chance, but by the Flores family, who were also hesitant to speak publicly.

  The rest of the ceremony went smoothly, and when a local minister had said a prayer in closing, there was a rustle as people rose to their feet, and they began to shake hands and give hugs. Comfort Creek would grieve together, and they’d heal together.

  Sadie stood to the side, out of the way as people milled past her. She nodded her thanks to some comments about the beautiful ceremony, and she stood with her hands clasped in front of her, looking for calm.

  “You won’t be doing the wedding now,” Chance’s voice said next to her ear, and she startled and turned. Chance stood at her side, and he looked down into her eyes tenderly. “Thank you, Sadie.”

  “You’re welcome.” She smiled sadly. “I hope I did right by Noah today.”

  “You did.” He took one of her hands in his. “I think this was a ceremony he’d have appreciated. And Susan seemed comforted, too.”

  Sadie followed the direction of his gaze, and she saw Susan hugging another woman, her eyes filled with tears. When she released the woman, she unwadded a tissue and wiped her nose. She raised her eyes and caught Sadie watching her, and Susan smiled mistily and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “I think you’re right,” Sadie said quietly. “I’m glad.”

  “I was prepared to say a few words,” he said, his voice low.

  “Oh?” She hadn’t been sure what Chance would have done had the mayor’s plan gone forward.

  “About his military career, short as it was,” Chance said. “But while I was looking through his papers, I found something.”

  “What was it?”

  People were moving farther away now, the benches emptying out so that she and Chance were left in relative privacy.

  “His application to the army was dated two months before the wedding,” he said.

  “Two months...” Her mind spun. “He applied without telling me?”

  “It looks that way. Even if he were accepted, he could have turned it down, I think, but yeah...he’d been thinking about this quite seriously before either of us knew.”

  Sadie nodded. “So that means—”

  “It wasn’t our fault,” Chance said, and his voice caught. “It wasn’t my fault.”

  Sadie’s mind was spinning, but her heart that had been so heavy started to lift. Noah had sensed things, too, it seemed to her. And she was glad of that. She was also relieved that Chance could finally find some peace about his brother’s passing.

  “I know it doesn’t change anything for you,” Chance said quietly, “but it did for me.”

  She nodded. “You’ve got some peace.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I can let it go.”

  And he could let her go. She thought she understood the implication there. Chance was finally going to be able to move on, as he should. Tears welled in her eyes.

  “I’m still going to love you, Chance,
” she whispered. Perhaps they were exchanging roles—she’d be the one watching him move on with another woman, and she’d be the one loving a man from afar whom she couldn’t have.

  “Me, too, Sadie.” He paused. “I’ve loved you for years. I know you don’t want what I’ve got to offer, but I have to say, I’d marry you in a heartbeat if you’d have me.”

  Sadie blinked. Had she heard him right?

  “But I get it,” he pressed on. “You don’t want what we Morgans can give, and that’s okay—”

  “Chance,” she interrupted. “I had a good talk with Nana last night, and—” she swallowed “—I was up most of the night thinking, rehashing, doing a whole lot of soul-searching. And I figured some things out. I didn’t love your brother enough, but that wasn’t my fault. Nana pointed something out to me. I’m not the kind of person who likes a ready-made life. I want to build it myself, on my own terms. I thought the fact that I ran out on my wedding made me like my mother, but Nana sees it differently. She says I’m like her—wanting to build it myself.”

  “Are you saying—” He fixed his dark gaze on her and sucked in a deep breath.

  “I like getting my hands dirty. I don’t want a life handed to me on a silver platter.”

  “But do you love me?” he asked hesitantly. “Enough, I mean.”

  She nodded, a lump closing off her throat so she couldn’t speak.

  “What if we built something together?” Chance asked softly. “Say, an event planning business for you, and maybe a house we can design together?”

  “Maybe a couple of kids to thunder through that house,” she said, heat coming to her cheeks. “A life together, our way. Yours and mine. We could start from scratch.”

  Chance slid one arm around her waist, and with the other hand he moved her hair away from her face and slid his fingers behind her neck. His blue gaze moved over her face and he smiled ever so slightly.

  “Sadie, marry me...”

  She nodded, and his lips came down on to hers. She could feel his love in that kiss, the love that he’d been holding back for years, flowing through this tender moment where the rest of Comfort Creek evaporated around them. His lips were warm and gentle, and he tugged her ever closer, until he finally pulled back and she felt weak at the knees.