The Sheriff’s Runaway Bride

by Arlene James

  Sighing, Zach shook his head. In other words, he had no answers for her. Blinking back her tears, she stomped inside to fill a bucket with warm sudsy water and begin the task of cleaning the windows. Erin followed, murmuring reassurances.

  “Hey, it’s no big deal. Windows needed washing any way.”

  “Sure,” Kylie said mordantly, heading back outside. “If this keeps up you’ll have the cleanest windows in town. Yippee.” As soon as she stepped through the door, Zach tried to reason with her.

  “Kylie,” he said in such a sensible tone of voice that she wanted to tag him with a wet sponge, “it’s not like anyone’s been hurt. I can’t even plead property damage. I’m filing a report, of course, and I promise that I’ll do my best to keep an eye on Vincent, but the most I can tell the sheriff is that folks have been irritated and caused a certain amount of inconvenience. There’s just no basis for an arrest or a search warrant or the extra manpower needed to keep a constant watch on Vincent and his cohorts. Please try to understand.”

  “I understand,” she told him through gritted teeth, scrubbing the soapy sponge over the window. “He’s determined to make my life miserable. And he’s succeeding.”

  “Don’t let him,” Zach counseled. “Don’t give him that satisfaction.” Erin appeared in the door with a rubber-edged scraper and a bucket of clean water. Zach plucked the scraper from her hand. “Here,” he said, dipping it into the clean water, “I’ll help you.” But instead of applying the scraper to the window, he flicked his wrist, spraying water droplets over Kylie.

  Gasping in surprise, she hopped back. While Erin snickered, Zach stood there with eyebrows cocked, a hopeful expression on his face. Kylie got it. She could cry or she could laugh, but although she knew Zach was right about not letting Vincent succeed at making her miserable, Kylie could not yet see any humor in the situation.

  “If it was just me, I wouldn’t care, but this—”

  “Is pointless,” Erin put in. “I mean, it’s not working, right?” She pointed a finger at Zach. “He hasn’t made you believe that Kylie’s having some secret, clandestine…thing with some other guy, has he? You’re not discouraged, are you?”

  Zach held Kylie’s gaze with his. “I’m not discouraged,” he said softly.

  Kylie felt a wan smile tug at her lips. Bending his arm, he leaned toward her and wiped a drop of water from the tip of her nose with his sleeve. Then he bent and picked up the bucket of soapy water. He winked and pulled back both arms as if preparing to throw the entire contents on her. Yelping, she jumped back, only to feel a bark of laughter escape as he turned at the last moment and sluiced the water over the windows of the diner, splattering himself liberally. Erin had managed to step back and push the door closed, but she yanked it open again an instant later. She glanced at Kylie, then they both stared at Zach.

  “Okay,” he muttered sheepishly, looking down at himself, “not my best idea.”

  Erin sputtered with laughter. Suddenly, they were all laughing so hard that Kylie could barely stand up straight. She forced herself to go back to work with the sponge, then watched, chuckling, while Zach scraped the window clean and Erin gathered up the buckets and sponge. Finished, Zach handed over the scraper, and Erin went inside to put everything away.

  Zach dried his palms on his already damp thighs, tapped the end of Kylie’s nose with the tip of one forefinger and announced that he could eat his weight in flapjacks; later, having attempted to do just that, he walked across the green to his office. Her equilibrium restored, Kylie went about her own business.

  That afternoon, a box of chocolates arrived in the mail at the Feed & Supply. Mariette brought the package over to the diner. Determined to take Zach’s advice to heart, Kylie mockingly read the card aloud. “Sweets for the sweetest of beauties.”

  Rolling her eyes, she passed around the goodies to the diners, being certain to include anyone who hung out with Vincent.

  A teddy bear wearing a red satin heart on its chest awaited her when she arrived at the diner the next morning. Kylie remarked loudly several times that day how sad it was that her “secret admirer” did not possess enough confidence to present himself to her in person. One of the guys from the mine remarked that the deputy sheriff must not be as bold as he appeared.

  Over the snicker of his single companion, Erin refuted that with a wry glance in Kylie’s direction. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

  The pink blooming in Kylie’s cheeks only served to reinforce the insinuation. Lifting her chin, she beat back her embarrassment and added a secretive smile to the blush. Later, when Laura West, the pastor’s wife, came in for lunch, Kylie made a production of donating the stuffed bear to the church nursery. By the time Zach came to walk her over to the church for their shift on the help line, Kylie felt somewhat in control of her life again.

  That feeling intensified later when, taking a break to stretch her legs while Zach talked to an older man angry with his adult son, Kylie noticed Janey Guilder’s car parked in front of the church. Kylie had spotted Janey cruising by the church on the Sunday morning just past. The two had talked for a while, and Janey had seemed troubled, but she’d refused to come inside or discuss what was bothering her. Sensing that much was wrong in the young woman’s life, Kylie had impulsively offered a willing ear anytime.

  Kylie opened the door and went outside. Sobbing, Janey looked much the worse for wear now. The collar on her mint-green cotton blouse had been torn, and her face showed red marks already darkening to bruises. Remembering a similar bruise at the base of Janey’s throat, Kylie insisted that the weeping brunette come inside the building with her.

  “Janey, tell me what’s happened.”

  “I—I shouldn’t have c-come here,” the other woman said haltingly. “I just d-didn’t know where else to go! My f-father said he’d k-kill him if he did this again!”

  “Rob,” Kylie surmised, guiding Janey down the hall toward the office where Zach manned the phones. “Rob hit you, didn’t he?”

  “H-he doesn’t mean to do it. The d-drink makes him do it.”

  “So it’s happened before,” Kylie said, her suspicions confirmed. What were a few prank gifts and a little shoe polish compared to that? And to think she’d let those silly things shake her!

  Zach saw them coming and managed to get off the phone in time to rise to his feet as Kylie steered Janey through the door of the room. Recognizing him, Janey balked, but Kylie urged her forward.

  “Zach can help if you let him.”

  Janey shook her head. “I—I don’t want Rob arrested. That would only make things worse. My dad works for his family.”

  Zach flashed Kylie a look as he came around the computer table to assess Janey’s condition. That one glance telegraphed frustration, resignation and determination, but his manner toward Janey could not have been more patient or supportive.

  “I’m no doctor,” he said after quietly asking several questions to determine the extent of her injuries. “For the record, I strongly urge you to seek medical assistance. But from what I can tell, bruising seems to be the extent of the physical damage. This time.”

  Kylie pulled a chair around for Janey to sit on then went to lean against the edge of the computer table beside Zach.

  “I don’t need a doctor,” Janey whispered.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Zach said, “but I still urge you to see one, if only to document your condition.”

  Janey looked away. Zach leaned forward, his hands braced on his thighs.

  “This time was worse than the last one, wasn’t it?” he probed carefully. Janey’s surprised gaze zipped back to him. “And the time between episodes is getting shorter and shorter. Right?”

  “It’s the drinking,” Janey insisted. “He only gets rough when he’s drinking.”

  “Sure, I understand,” Zach said. “Every abuser has an excuse, and booze is often it, but he doesn’t quit drinking, does he? Oh, he apologizes and pleads for more chances and swears that he loves you, but
when it comes to a choice between your welfare and his alcohol, he always chooses the alcohol.” He sighed heavily. “He’ll swear that he’s not an alcoholic and admit that the booze makes him hurt you, but he won’t give it up. Instead, he tells you that it’s your fault because you know how the drinking affects him and insist on irritating him to the point that he has to smack you around. That about right?”

  Janey looked haunted. “Kind of.”

  “The rest of the time he’s a peach,” Zach went on. “A little gruff, a bit demanding, somewhat critical, but that’s your fault, too. You just don’t know how to act around him.”

  Janey locked her gaze on her hands. “I do t-try.”

  “Yeah, but the requirements keep changing, don’t they? What worked for you one time doesn’t work the next.”

  Tears began to drip from Janey’s eyes and splash on her hands. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

  “Get out before he seriously injures or even kills you,” Zach said starkly. Leaning forward, he grasped the arms of her chair and spoke urgently. “Why can’t he read you and discern your needs at any given moment?”

  “But that’s unreasonable,” she muttered. “No one can do that.”

  “Isn’t that what he expects of you, though?”

  Janey bit her lip. “It seems like it is.”

  “Okay. Ask yourself this. If the booze makes him do things that he doesn’t want to do, then why doesn’t he give it up? Is it because he can’t or because he just doesn’t want to?”

  “I d-don’t know!” she sobbed.

  “Yes, you do,” Zach said quietly. “But he’s convinced you that no other man could ever want you, and like the rest of us, you fear being alone, so you take what he dishes out even though you can see that it’s getting worse and becoming the norm in your relationship.” Zach went down on his haunches before her, saying softly, “Weak men abuse women because it makes them feel strong. He does these things to you because he secretly likes to do them, only the rush wanes over time, and he has to escalate the violence to keep getting the same confidence boost. He needs that feeling, and when his conscience kicks him or the world shows its disapproval, he’ll blame you. That allows him to beat you again. Don’t stay until he hits you hard enough to snap your neck or chokes the life out of you.”

  “You have to get away from him, Janey,” Kylie put in, laying a hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

  “Let me pick him up,” Zach urged.

  “No! I told you. That will just make everything worse.”

  “I can’t promise it won’t happen even without your cooperation,” Zach told her. “I have to write a report, and if similar incidents have been filed in the past, the county sheriff may direct me to pick him up, but it would be easier if you’d file charges.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Even if he doesn’t get jail time, he could be forced into counseling.”

  “I don’t care,” Janey declared, straightening her spine. “Let the next woman worry about it.”

  Kylie traded looks with Zach. “Then you’ll at least break your engagement?”

  “I already have,” Janey revealed, lifting her left hand to show her bare finger. “I threw the ring at him as I ran out of his house.”

  “You’ve done it before, though, haven’t you?” Zach guessed.

  Wide-eyed, Janey nodded. “How did you know?”

  “Because I’ve seen this pattern play out a hundred times before,” Zach told her, pushing up to his full height again.

  “You have to mean it this time, Janey,” Kylie pleaded. “Please. I don’t want to see you hurt even worse.”

  Janey sighed and nodded.

  “God has someone else picked out for you,” Zach assured her, “someone who will treat you with the respect and care you deserve. The right man will put you before everything else in his life except God, and he’ll encourage you to do the same thing for him. If it hurts you, he won’t do it. In fact, he’ll bend over backward to lift you up.”

  “Wow,” Janey said in an awed voice.

  “Yes. Wow,” Kylie echoed softly, gazing at Zach. She knew she had stars in her eyes again.

  “But why would God pick out a guy for me?” Janey asked.

  “Because He loves you and wants you to be happy,” Zach told her. “He loves you so much that He made His own Son a sacrifice for your sins. You see, we all sin, even the very best of us, and sin creates a chasm between us and God. Jesus is our bridge. He closes the gap and allows us to draw near to Him in prayer.”

  “You can do that?” Janey asked, glancing from one to the other of them.

  “We can do it right now if you want,” Zach said, glancing at Kylie for confirmation. She nodded her head. He reached for her hand then held out his other one to Janey. Kylie followed suit. Hesitantly, Janey placed her hands in theirs. Zach bowed his head, leaning his shoulder against Kylie’s, and began to pray aloud. “Heavenly Father, thank You for bringing Janey here tonight. Please give her strength and wisdom to do the best thing for herself. Help her to know and accept Your love for her so that she can know and accept the love of another. Whoever the man is You’ve picked out for her, we ask You to bless him and hold him apart for her. Bring them together when the time is right. Meanwhile, Lord, we ask You to give her peace. We ask, too, that You show Rob how to find true happiness in his own life. We know that our happiness rests in You and living a life pleasing to You…”

  When he came to the end of his prayer, he squeezed Kylie’s hand. Moved to speak, she did so, thanking God for her new friend and asking Him to keep Janey safe. Janey’s grip tightened and she sniffled when Kylie said that. After ending her prayer in the name of Christ, Kylie moved forward to hug Janey, who then thanked both Kylie and Zach. Kylie walked Janey out of the building. Along the way, she invited Janey to church.

  Nodding, Janey tilted her head, sniffed and said, “I’m afraid you’ve lost a client, though.”

  “I don’t care,” Kylie told her. “All that matters is that you stay safe and stop letting yourself be bullied. You deserve better.”

  “I was looking forward to working with you.”

  “We can still spend time together,” Kylie told her. “In fact, let’s have lunch soon.”

  For the first time since her arrival, Janey smiled. “I’d like that.”

  They hugged again before parting.

  Kylie returned to find Zach, waiting pensively. “Think she’ll stick to her guns this time?” he asked, coming forward.

  “I hope so.”

  “Me, too. I’d feel better if she’d press charges, though.” He crossed his arms. “Then again, I’d feel better if I could toss Vincent into a cell, and we know that’s not happening. Not yet, anyway. By the way, I meant what I said about keeping an eye on things where he’s concerned.”

  “I know you’ll do everything you can.”

  Zach sighed and clapped a hand to the back of his neck. “It’s maddening. I’ve got two guys who deserve to be jailed, and I can’t touch either one.”

  “It is frustrating,” Kylie agreed, “but I guess we just have to trust that there are reasons why things have been allowed to go this way.”

  “That’s true. God surely has His reasons, and we can trust that they are ultimately for our benefit. We just have to be patient.”

  Patience, Kylie mused. A lack of patience had led her to look for a seemingly easy solution to her family’s financial issues. Impatience and selfishness had led her astray. She felt very foolish. What might she have missed if she hadn’t caught Vincent with another woman on their wedding day? Too much, she realized, looking at Zach. Maybe everything that God had planned for her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Yawning, Zach stretched his arms. He’d been sitting here for hours in his dark office, keeping a bleary eye on the Cowboy Café across the green. For several nights now, he’d been cruising by the diner and Feed & Supply every few hours in hopes of catching Vincent or one of his minions in the act of
dropping off a package for Kylie or defacing property. He’d seen nothing suspicious, but at least he’d made himself visible enough that the harassment appeared to have halted.

  Zach had begun to wonder, however, if he’d made himself too visible. He couldn’t keep up these patrols indefinitely, after all. He had to sleep sometime, so he’d decided to take a more subtle approach. By leaving the Jeep at home and walking over to the office to sit in the dark with a pair of binoculars, he’d been able to keep watch over the diner and the approach to the Feed & Supply without showing himself.

  With the hour approaching three o’clock in the morning, though, he’d begun to rethink this new approach. If something didn’t happen soon, all he’d have to show for his Friday night would be boredom and weariness. Ah, well, at least Kylie wouldn’t have any troubling gifts waiting for her when she arrived for the morning shift. He mused—not for the first time—that she worked too much and wished that he could find some way to lighten the family’s financial burden so she could take off more time.

  It was none of his business, of course.

  But maybe the time had come to make it his business.

  However, he had to ask himself if Kylie was ready for that. Was he ready for it? He certainly had not known her very long, and yet he felt as if he’d always known her somehow. He thought of her constantly, and being with her felt like the most exciting and the most natural thing in the world.

  He didn’t know what to do about her, so he did what he’d been doing increasingly since he’d come back home: he talked it over with God. Even as his gaze tracked back and forth between Railroad Street and Hawk Street, he prayed, a habit he’d developed on other lonely stakeouts.

  We both know I care about her. In fact, I can’t remember ever caring more for a woman. But is this the woman and the time You have planned for me? She seems to care, even after knowing the worst about me. But how much? And for how long? A little while ago, I was convinced that I ought to put distance between us, but we saw how well that worked out. Now what? I know what I want to do, but is it the right step?