Chapter Two
Sharon wrapped her hands around her cup of hot chocolate, staring down at the tiny marshmallows floating on top.
For the first time all night, she finally felt warm.
The cold outside had gone through her like icy fingers clawing at her soul.
Now seated in the local bakery, with the heavenly scents of cinnamon, yeast, and sugar pervading the air, she felt a second of bliss.
Dusty had been right when he said their local baker made the best cinnamon rolls in town.
Hunger pangs had gnawed at her, and she’d practically inhaled it as soon as it had been placed before her.
“Feeling better?”
She nodded, finally looking up to meet the deputy’s gaze.
He’d been nothing but kind and polite from the moment he’d found her walking toward town.
Once she’d climbed inside his patrol car, he’d made simple small talk, telling her about Shiloh Springs, about some of the town’s characters, where the best places to eat were, and which shop had the best coffee.
All good things to know—if she was staying—which she wasn’t.
As soon as she figured out a way to head out of town without rousing suspicions, she’d hit the road.
“Yes. Thank you for the ride. I didn’t realize how cold it got in Texas.”
“We’ve had a cold front move in, made the temperatures drop. It’ll warm up in a couple of days. Where do you hail from?”
I stepped right into that, didn’t I?
“Up north. Illinois mostly, and Indiana.”
He nodded, took a sip of his coffee, then motioned to the girl behind the counter, and pointed to both of their plates, indicating to bring out two more cinnamon rolls.
Guilt flooded her as she realized he knew she was hungry.
He probably didn’t have a clue that it had been nearly two days since she’d had anything more substantial than a package of peanut butter crackers and a bottle of water.
Keeping on the move, she’d hoarded every penny, which usually meant going without until the hunger pangs became too much.
“How about I call Frank at the garage and have him pick up your car? He can get it hooked up to his tow truck, have it hauled in, and take a look. Best mechanic between here and Austin, he’ll get you taken care of quickly and his rates are reasonable.”
Sharon swallowed down the bite she’d just put in her mouth. She couldn’t allow that to happen. If they found the car, they’d know it was stolen, and she’d end up in the county jail. Which meant Cooper’s men wouldn’t have any problem finding her.
“That’s okay. I…if you’ll give me his number, I’ll take care of it.”
Dusty looked at her, and she felt like he was seeing all the way to her soul. Could see all her secrets, all her lies. She felt stripped bare, and she was terrified he’d figure out she was the biggest fraud he’d ever met.
“Are you sure, Ms. Elliott? It’s no trouble, Frank’s a friend, and I’d be happy to make the arrangements for you.”
“I appreciate it, really. I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but I’d rather take care of it myself.
” She slid from the booth and stuck her arms into the sleeves of her coat, buttoning it all the way to her throat.
“Thank you again, Deputy. I’d still be stuck on the side of the road, walking toward town if you hadn’t come past. I appreciate the help, and the breakfast.”
Dusty stood and reached forward, taking her hand in his. “It was my pleasure, Ms. Elliott. I know it’s not much of a welcome to Shiloh Springs, but I bet you’ll find we’re a nice place to visit and maybe stay a while.”
Drawing in a strained breath, she nodded, anxious to get away from Dusty.
He seemed to see too much, know too much, and she had the feeling he was smart enough to figure out she was lying through her teeth about everything.
With a nod, she turned and walked out the front door, turning right, not really knowing where she was headed, just away.
Away from the man who was kind, nicer to her than she deserved.
What she needed was a moment to herself, to rest and figure out what she was going to do, where she was going to go next, and how to do that with the remnants of what little money she had left.
Despondent at the thought of leaving another town before she’d even settled for a day, she spotted a bench.
Tugging her coat closer around her body, to ward off the sharp chill of the wind, she took one step after another, before collapsing onto the chipped and weathered bench sitting outside Daisy’s Diner.
Closing her eyes, she drew in a deep, calming breath, held it for a moment, and then exhaled.
It really was a quaint town, exactly like she pictured a small southern town would be, even though she’d never in her wildest dreams expected to find herself smack dab in the middle of a crime drama, worthy of a television movie.
The early morning light hesitantly broke through the stubborn haze of anxiety wracking her body.
In her trembling hands, the envelope felt impossibly heavy—not just a portion of the damning evidence that could prove her innocence, but the burden of being marked as a fugitive.
Every crease and fold of the paper carried an echo of betrayal.
It was proof, yes, but a curse as well. Most of the papers she’d managed to smuggle out of Cooper’s office were hidden away in San Antonio, far from Chicago, and as far as she’d gotten before Cooper’s men caught up with her.
She knew they weren’t the only ones hunting her; the FBI was hot on her trail too.
Unfortunately, Cooper had managed to get to them before she’d had a chance to tell them about his illegal activities, laying all the blame at her feet.
She drew in a shallow breath and tried to steady her racing heart.
The betrayal by Cooper Madison—the silver-tongued corporate shark—had shattered her trust into a thousand irreparable pieces.
It seemed impossible that she’d thought she was in love with the dirty, rotten snake, believing every lying word out of his mouth, only to be exploited and framed, left with nothing but a whispered promise of justice and salvation.
Yet, the very evidence that could clear her name also painted a target on her back, a beacon for those who would do anything to preserve his empire of deceit.
As she considered her next move, her mind wandered back to that fateful moment on the side of a lonesome highway.
Frozen and exhausted, despair nipped at her as painful as the cold wind whipping through her threadbare coat.
The biting chill of an endless length of pavement stretched before her, and she’d wondered if she’d be able to take another step when she’d spotted the headlights of an approaching car.
Following her first instinct, she’d tried hiding at the side of the road, adrenaline ramping up the terror she felt, praying that it wasn’t one of Cooper’s hired henchmen.
Though they’d been instructed to bring her back to Chicago—back into Cooper’s clutches—she knew they were just as likely to kill her.
Either way would provide the solution Cooper needed, her out of the picture.
Instead, the person who’d stopped was Deputy Dusty Warner.
His silhouette, strong and reassuring against the harsh winds, seemed like an unlikely lifeline.
His voice—steady, calm—had broken through the panic swirling within her.
There had been something in the way his eyes carried the weight of responsibility and kindness that made her heart skip a beat despite the chaos of her reality.
Dusty wasn’t just a savior in that moment; he had ignited a spark within her, one she hadn’t dared to feel—hope.
When he offered her a comforting breakfast, a rare kindness in a world so cruelly indifferent, Sharon had studied him with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and an unexpected, dawning attraction.
His rugged features and unyielding determination painted him as the kind of man who could stand up to any storm, even the ones swirling inside her heart.
Despite her desperate need to flee, part of her longed to trust again—to let someone in, to share the weight of her secret.
Girl, you are a piece of work. On the run for your life, being chased by hired guns as well as the feds, and you’re thinking about the hunky deputy like he’s the finest piece of chocolate in a box of Godiva. You need to get your priorities straight, before somebody puts a bullet between your eyes.
Now, as she clutched her secret tightly, grappling with the conflicting urges to run and to fight back against the injustice, a soft voice interrupted her brooding thoughts.
A middle-aged woman, her eyes sparking with a knowing tenderness and a hint of mischief, stood in front of her.
Her blonde hair was almost as tall as she was, and the twinkle in her eyes also reflected a kindness and compassion Sharon hadn’t seen in a long time, except for one woman who’d worked at the homeless shelter in San Antonio.
And wasn’t that a sad thought, that a stranger had been kinder to her than her own family.
“Darlin’, you look like you’re carrying the weight of the entire world on your shoulders.” The woman’s tone was both gentle and laced with unspoken authority. “Mind if I sit?”
Sharon’s eyes lifted, wary yet in need of a human connection.
Maybe the kindness of the deputy had awakened something in her, making her crave a moment of connection with a stranger.
“Sure,” she mumbled, the edge of exhaustion softening her words.
The presence of this woman was a welcome distraction from the relentless tension that gripped her every thought.