Page 7 of Runaway Bride


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  But Savannah had left her identification in her luggage, at home. She didn't even have her driver’s license and if he found that out, she was sunk. How could this be happening? All she wanted to do was get away from that church, that wedding, and her parents long enough to figure out what to do next.

  "Look Sheriff, you aren't going to believe this..."

  "You don't have any identification?" his eyes narrowed on her now, a frown forming.

  "Well, yes, I do. But not with me. I mean...come on Sheriff; I was running from a wedding. Give me a break..."

  "Not even a driver’s license?"

  "Well...I...no!" Savannah sighed, and held out her arms to him. "Sheriff, you don't wear your drivers license to a wedding, now do you?"

  "What's this?" he asked as though she'd gone loco.

  "Aren't you gonna put the handcuffs back on?" she asked her eyes pleading with him for understanding.

  "I don't think that'll be necessary. You aren't that dangerous. If need be, I think I could take you. However, this does create a problem. You are going to have to stay here until I get some kind of id on you. What about a social security card?

  She shook her head.

  He shook his head with what looked like disgust, but all the while not missing a bite of his chicken. He stopped for a minute and added, "And you can't be driving that car until you get a replacement license, that'll take a day or two."

  "Then you don't believe me?" She stared at him with the rounded green eyes.

  "Oh sure, but I can't go on what I believe. Everyone has to have identification. It won't take long, and you'll be fine, unless you'd rather me lock you up in a cell, until I verify who you are."

  "A cell!" her eyes were so big and beautiful he could drown in them, but he shook off this crazy attraction once more and nodded with a slight smile.

  "Uh...no, Sheriff, if you don't mind, I'll stay...here."

  "I thought maybe you would." Ben chuckled.

  "This isn't a bit funny," she protested. "Anyone can tell I'm not a criminal."

  "You don't have to be a criminal to break the law. People do it, everyday. They don't put their seat belts on, they don't carry their license or their insurance in their cars. There's a lot of misdemeanor's out there. Now, because I saw your state of dress on the bus, and new you must have escaped a wedding, I can believe that. But it doesn't begin to tell me who you are and what you are doing in our little town, now does it?"

  "No…I guess not. But honestly, do I look like a criminal to you?"

  "Depends on which side of the fence you're sitting on, I guess." Ben smiled.

  Savannah slumped in her chair. "So how long is all of this going to take?" She let out a long sigh of impatience.

  "Oh a couple of days at most." Ben replied pretending great interest in his food all of a sudden. "Of course taking care of your car might take a little longer."

  "But can't I stay at my Aunt's?"

  He wiped his mouth and settled back in his chair, then looked straight at her. "You could, if I knew you were Savannah Kingsley, her niece. And as soon as I find out you can. Until I do though, I'm afraid not. This is the best place for you, right now. Don't worry; it's for your own good." He reassured her. "Unless....you'd rather go to jail?"

  "No thanks," she murmured.

  After she was quiet for a long time he asked, "So what were you planning on doing? Aside from visiting your aunt I mean."

  "I-I don't know. I mean, I thought my aunt might have a few ideas. She's a crafty lady after all."

  "Yes, that's the word for Lucy alright."

  "See, that should prove I know her. So…do you know her well?"

  "Sure, everyone in Junction knows Lucy. She's a character too." He chuckled. "She's one of the nicest ladies in Junction."

  "Meaning I am a character, I suppose." she frowned at him.

  "Well, you have got to admit, it's not every day a runaway bride comes to town."

  "There's really an explanation for all this..." she began only to be cut off.

  He raised his hand, "Save it for another time. Right now we have to do dishes."

  "Dishes?" she shrieked.

  "Yeah," his eyes narrowed again, "dishes!"

  "But, I don't do dishes!" she gasp. "I mean...I've never..."

  It sounded ludicrous but it was the truth. She'd never done dishes.

  "No," he looked comically at her. "Well, I guess there's a first time for everything, isn't there." Again his glance slid over her only this time differently, as though he were seeing her as a woman. "So what happened to the groom? The one you obviously left at the altar, what about him? Won't you even reconsider your rash judgment?"

  "No. No, I could never marry Chad....now!" she explained, tearing into the chicken as though she were starved. "Chad's got a lot of things to work out for himself. But I could never marry him. You see…well…there's things he didn't tell me."