Chapter Two #3
With her internal resolve hardening like tempered steel, Sharon patted the envelope in the folds of her worn jacket.
For now, she would let the subtle comfort of this small town, the kindness of the woman leading her into the diner, and the silent promise in Dusty Warner’s gaze, be enough to see her through until she could face those dark forces determined to keep her captive.
She whispered a silent vow to herself: she would fight.
She wouldn’t allow Cooper to get away with silencing her.
Somehow, she’d find a way to bring him down, using the law and the truth.
The frost had barely started to form on the edges of Dusty’s windshield when he turned his patrol car onto the familiar road that led into Shiloh Springs.
After feeding Sharon, and stuffing his own belly full of sugary goodness, he’d had to take one last call before his shift officially ended.
One which ended up being a false alarm. That darned stray dog was turning into a nuisance, and he really hoped somebody caught the little bugger before somebody got hurt.
For the past few weeks, he’d been chasing his four-legged nemesis, who always managed to stay one step ahead.
The sun had barely broken through the gray sky, casting long shadows over the sleepy little town.
Pulling into a parking space on Main Street was sometimes a hit or a miss, depending on how busy the shops and eateries were, and the Christmas holiday made things even crazier.
This morning, he managed to snag a spot right in front of the sheriff’s station.
The twinkling lights lining both sides of Main Street reminded him it was only two weeks before Christmas, and the decorations had been up since the day after Thanksgiving.
Strung across the rooflines of each shop, and even wending through the town square where the courthouse for the county stood, the giant pine in front stood tall, covered in twinkling lights and colorful balls and baubles.
The holiday cheer, though, felt like an afterthought to Dusty today.
His mind was far from the season’s festivities, focused instead on the woman he’d rescued hours earlier.
Sharon Elliott.
Her name rolled through his mind again, as it had done every moment since he’d watched her leave Jill’s bakery and head down Main Street.
She’d ended up on the bench in front of Daisy’s Diner.
She was beautiful in a way that made him ache, but it wasn’t just her looks that had him intrigued.
It was the way she’d looked at him, eyes wide and uncertain, as though fearful of him and what his uniform stood for.
Yet she’d come to him when he’d stopped to help.
Her story, about her car breaking down on that back road and her walk toward town just didn’t feel right.
Why hadn’t she called for a service to pick her up?
Even as small as Shiloh Springs was, they did have a couple of people who provided ride-share services for the extra money.
And Frank’s garage provided towing services.
Instead, he couldn’t help thinking her reactions had been too…calculated.
When he’d reached for the sugar on the table, she’d flinched, her eyes darting toward his hand like he’d raised a fist. And the way she’d refused to let him call the mechanic—something about it had felt off too.
She said she wanted to take care of it herself, but her tone had been too defensive. Too rehearsed.
Dusty’s gut twisted. He didn’t like how it made him feel.
Didn’t like how much he wanted to trust her.
He wanted to believe she was simply a woman stranded in the middle of nowhere, with no other choice but to rely on the kindness of a stranger.
But something in his bones told him there was more to her story.
Sitting behind the wheel of his cruiser, Dusty rubbed his jaw, felt the stubble scratch against his palm.
His shift was over, but the need to know more about Sharon was gnawing at him.
He was a sheriff’s deputy. It was his job to ask questions, to look deeper, to uncover the truth, no matter how uncomfortable.
He turned off the engine and got out of the car, his boots crunching over the thin layer of ice coating the asphalt.
It wouldn’t last long; the ground was too warm, but the unexpected cold snap was likely to cause a few traffic mishaps, making him glad his shift was over.
As he walked toward the station, the lights inside flickered, casting an amber glow on the concrete steps.
The door opened with a familiar creak, and Dusty stepped inside, immediately greeted by the alluring smell of coffee and the sugary sweetness of…
something. He grinned. Rafe Boudreau, Shiloh Springs’ duly elected sheriff, sat behind his desk, booted feet propped up on the edge, a chocolate-covered donut in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
The sheriff was a big man, broad-shouldered and a bit rough around the edges, but he had a sharp mind when it came to handling anything that threatened their town. Protective and caring, he was more than a colleague—he was Dusty’s best friend.
Dusty didn’t waste any time. “Got a minute?”
Rafe lowered his feet to the floor and gave him a sharp nod. “Always. What’s on your mind?”
“It’s a woman. Her name’s Sharon Elliott.” Dusty hesitated for a second, debating exactly what to say. “I found her this morning, out on Old Orchard Road. She says her car broke down, but something about her story’s not sitting right.”
Rafe leaned forward, placing the donut on a napkin.
Dusty knew Rafe, knew he debated licking the chocolate staining his fingers.
This time, he won the battle and refrained, instead wiping them on a second napkin.
Dusty grinned. It was usually a fifty-fifty bet on whether Rafe would be able to resist the urge.
“What makes you say that?” Rafe asked the question before taking a sip of his coffee.
“Just…the way she acted.” Dusty rubbed the back of his neck.
“She was jumpy, defensive. And when I offered to call Frank, she refused. Said she’d handle it herself.
” He paused, considering the details. “I took her to Jill’s, got her something hot to drink, and one of Jill’s cinnamon rolls.
She flinched when I reached for the sugar shaker on the table.
Almost like she was expecting me to hurt her. ”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You think she’s hiding something? Maybe she’s running from an abusive husband?”
“I don’t know what to think. I didn’t notice a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean anything.
She could have removed it. I feel like there’s more to her story.
Hell, maybe she’s just a woman stranded in a strange place, but I can’t shake the feeling she’s in trouble.
And not the kind of trouble that comes from a broken-down car. ”
Rafe studied him for a long moment. “You know better than anyone that people come through here with all kinds of stories. And most of ’em are full of holes.
” He leaned back in his chair. “Trust your instincts, Dusty. If you think she’s hiding something, dig.
Let’s hope you’re wrong, and she’s simply leery about strangers—even ones in uniform. ”
Dusty wanted to be wrong, wanted to believe Sharon was exactly who she said she was, but his gut insisted there was more to Sharon than what she’d told him. Something in him insisted Sharon wasn’t a threat to Shiloh Springs. No, if anything, she was the one in danger.
“I’ll start digging,” Dusty said, though his voice didn’t sound as confident as he wanted it to. “I hope I’m wrong, but there’s something more. I can’t shake it.”
“Fair enough. But be careful, Dusty.” Rafe’s gaze was sharp, his voice quiet. “Things have been quiet for a change, and I don’t want to see you stirring up a hornet’s nest or finding yourself in the middle of something we’re not equipped to handle.”
Dusty nodded but didn’t say anything. He couldn’t back down now.
Something in his gut told him that if he didn’t find out what was going on with Sharon Elliott, he might never forgive himself.
And if that wasn’t enough, there was something else pulling at him—a strange, inexplicable need to protect her.
He turned and started to walk out of Rafe’s office, but Rafe’s voice stopped him.
“Hey, Dusty.” Turning back, his hand rested on the door jamb. “You’re not falling for her, are you?” Rafe asked, his tone light but knowing.
Dusty’s chest tightened, a storm of emotions crashing through him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rafe. I’m just doing my job.”
Rafe chuckled. “Just don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment. I did and look what happened.”
“Yeah—you married her,” Dusty said, allowing the humor of the moment to shine through. “No worries, I know what I’m doing.”
“Good. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Rafe replied, settling back into his chair. “A pretty face will get you in trouble every time.”
Dusty stepped out into the main part of the office, moving toward his desk.
Sally Anne wasn’t in yet, which was why there were donuts next to the coffee machine.
Sally Anne was on a health kick, determined to lose a few pounds before Christmas, and everybody in the office was paying the price.
Glancing into the box, he spotted his favorite Boston Crème and grabbed a napkin, snagging the sweet delicacy.
He didn’t need it; he’d just had cinnamon rolls and coffee with Sharon at Jill’s bakery, but one more donut wouldn’t hurt.
Besides, he was going to need the extra energy the sugar would give him.
His thoughts were miles away. After treating her to breakfast, he’d watched Sharon head toward the diner.
It hadn’t been a conscious act to watch her walk away, but he couldn’t take his eyes off her.
He’d almost followed her, but there hadn’t been a reason to, except for his fascination with the beautiful woman.
Was it because she was a stranger? Was it because he didn’t quite buy her story?
Or was it because she was gorgeous, and he found himself drawn to her?
Being honest with himself, he knew it was all three.
When he’d left the bakery, she’d still been sitting on the bench in front of Daisy’s.
Made a mental note to check with Frank and see if she had called for a tow to get her allegedly abandoned car.
He slid onto the chair behind his desk and turned on the computer, taking a huge bite of his donut.
Time to get to work. He couldn’t wait to find out anything and everything about Sharon Elliott.
She was hiding something. But the way he felt about her? That niggling doubt, the indisputable attraction? This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
If she stuck around Shiloh Springs, there would be no escaping that fact.
Too bad he had the feeling she’d be heading out of town as soon as she figured out a way.
A tiny smile ticked up the corner of his mouth, and he grabbed his cell phone and dialed.
Within a few minutes, he’d made arrangements for somebody to talk to Sharon.
Somebody who could get answers better than anybody he knew.
Sharon Elliott might be hiding secrets, but she was about to meet the master of persuasion, and he’d know everything there was to know about the pretty stranger.