Runaway Bride

  ***

  So much for flirting with strange men, Savannah shrugged. If this one was any measure she had her work cut out for her. Not that she was one bit interested but losing a man to another man had damaged her ego a bit. This man was rather handsome, if he wouldn't frown so much. His dark sandy hair was cut short and well trained. But the beard didn't fit him.

  She crept down the bus steps and stared at the vacant station.

  "Where is everyone?" She blurted out when she saw the cowboy heading in the opposite direction.

  The cowboy that sat by her on the bus was moving deliberately away from her at a fast pace. On hearing her question he stopped dead in his tracks and turned about to look at her again. By his actions she could have sworn he really didn't want to turn around and answer her at all.

  "It's Sunday afternoon, everyone's either in church or home. Not much goes on, on Sundays."

  Boy had she stumbled into a country town or what? It was like a fairy tale to her. Just the kind of place she wanted to be. A place where people took time to listen, to care, a Junction little town she could surely learn to do something in. This was her dream of heaven, away from the hectic schedules of modern day life.

  "Is there a restaurant around here?" she asked the cowboy who was now hauling that beautiful tooled saddle she had straddled on the bus. She hadn't paid much attention to it on the bus, but now she could see it was very expensively crafted, and so was its owner.

  "Yes, about a block down the street, Mary's Kitchen." He nodded the direction.

  "Thanks," she said and hauled a small bag on one arm, her camera and tripod on the other and started for what looked like the town of Junction, Texas. But his next words stopped her cold.

  "But they aren't open till tomorrow," he added his voice filled with some irritation. It was like he didn't want to give her any information, and it had been dragged from him.

  "Tomorrow?" she whirled around and turned a startled glance on him. "You're kidding."

  She'd spent the entire day without eating and her stomach roared.

  But the stranger was doing his best to ignore her, it seemed. He stood there leaning against his jeep as though he was waiting for her to do something.

  He shook his head. "'Fraid not. It's Sunday. Little towns have a habit of foldin' up early on Sunday's ma'am." He adjusted his Stetson again.

  Sunday was merely another day of the week to her. She usually attended church, when home, then worked on her client list. She'd been a real estate agent for all of a year, but she had progressed, thanks to her dad's influence. Not her own. Still, she wasn't fooling herself; she didn't want a career in real estate. That was her dad's idea, not hers. Even though the work came easy for her, she had no interest. She wanted a home and family. How did one go about changing that kind of idea, especially when it was a lifetime idea?

  All the stores would be open at home...But this wasn't home.

  She glanced at her watch and grimaced, another couple of hours and the sun would go down. "How about a station where I could get my car fixed?"

  "Full service filling stations went out a long time ago. We got a mechanic down the road a piece."

  "Oh, good. How far?" She squinted in the sunlight.

  "Couple of miles. I'll give you a lift if you like." His voice was indulgent, but right now, she just didn't care. He offered, she'd take him up on it.

  "Oh, would you?" She tried to sound grateful. Somehow she didn't think the cowboy was too happy about being saddled with her. She understood that, and she'd be on her way as soon as she got her car tended to.

  "Sure, get in." He mumbled as he threw his saddle in the back of his jeep. "He don't usually work on Sunday either, but maybe we can get him to haul your car into town, and fix it tomorrow."

  Tomorrow? Everything was tomorrow, not now! How did people get things done around here? They were losing money, closing on Sundays.

  She hurriedly pulled her equipment along and after carefully stowing it beside the saddle, she climbed in and he took off down the dust filled road. He seemed in a hurry to get there, in a hurry to get rid of her.

  He hardly said a word to her all the way to the station and she wasn't sure why. He seemed to have good manners. But ever since she climbed into his vehicle the man was one big wad of frowns. He'd be very good looking if he didn't frown so much, she thought. Not that she was paying that much attention to a yokel. She knew enough about red-neck cowboys to stay as far away as possible.

  Five minutes later the cowboy pounded on the station door. No one answered.

  There was some kind of note pinned on the gas pump though. She spotted it and handed it to him.

  "It figures. He's closed for his father-in-law’s funeral, it says." The cowboy read the note, and then stuck it back on the pump.

  "Closed?" She nearly yelped.

  "'Fraid so. Poor Alfred."

  Who was Alfred?

  Savannah felt like collapsing in one big puddle of tears. What had started out as such a wonderful day yesterday was turning into a nightmare today.

  Now here she was, no better off than she had been sitting with her car. And the stranger didn't seem very eager to lend her any help.

  Trying to curb her fears, she suddenly sat on an old coke carton in front of the station. She no longer cared about the dress.

  The man eyed her for a few minutes. He even went so far as to get in his jeep and start the motor, but something stopped him. In slow motion, he switched off the ignition and glanced over at her. The look on his face was patronizing, as if he had to put up with her for one more minute it would kill him.

  "You can come to my place and stay," he offered intently aware of her stare.

  Yeah, right. Do I look like I've lost my mind? She might appear helpless, and maybe even brainless, but she knew better than to run off with a complete stranger, especially to his home. Besides, his offer was definitely reluctant. But maybe he had a wife that wouldn't understand, or maybe he was a pervert. She certainly didn't know anything about him. Not even his name.

  "That's okay...."

  She looked up at him, and swallowed hard. She hadn't paid that much attention to him on the bus. And during the ride, it was all she could do to stay in her seat. But now, she had time and she was totally entranced by his all male beauty. From the tips of his plain leather boots, to the tops of his wide shoulders, the man reeked male. His skin was as tan as his hair. His face was an interesting contrast to his personality. He had a pleasant face, crinkles around the eyes and mouth that said he smiled a lot, although she'd not seen even the beginnings of one since she'd met him. His brown eyes were very expressive. He had a wide face, and very youthful.

  "I realize you're a stranger here, but you can put your mind at ease. I'm also the Sheriff."

  Oh great, her parents were probably putting out an APB for their stolen car and she had run smack dab into the Sheriff!

  Could it get any worse?

  Chapter Two