THE BRIDE WORE BLUE JEANS

by Mary Anne Wilson

  "How far is the next town?"

  "I don't know. But it can't be that far. If we just keep heading west, we'll hit a town sooner or later, and you can drop me at a bus station. Or if there's a car rental … anything will do."

  "Sure." He chanced a look at her and she'd snuggled down near the door and her eyes were closed.

  "What about your suitcase?"

  "I put it in your trunk."

  "Just make yourself at home," he murmured.

  She sighed as she settled and Quint looked away into the night. A feeling suspiciously like protectiveness was sneaking up on him. It was something that had probably been growing since the moment he saw her slumped against the steering wheel of her car.

  But even as his feelings for her began to change, he steeled himself to resist. He couldn't afford to get his emotions tangled up with this stranger … or with anyone. He'd take Annie down the road, get her on a bus or in a car, then he'd keep going to California and stay with his plans … alone.

  When she sighed again as she settled into a light sleep, the sound ran riot over his nerves. Quickly, he reached for the radio, flipped it on and soft pop music swirled around him.

  He drove for about ten miles with Annie sleeping by him as he tried to ignore her presence. Then he saw something ahead of them, and at first he couldn't see exactly what it was. But as he got closer, he could make out flashing lights clustered on the road in the night. An accident, he thought at first, but as he went even closer, he knew it wasn't any accident. It was a roadblock.

  * * *

  Chapter 5

  « ^ »

  Quint slowed the Corvette and swung off the road onto the shoulder, parking under the protection of some low-growing shrubs. He looked over at Annie who was still asleep, then glanced away at the flashing lights he could see through the leaves of the shrubs. He sat there for a long while just watching and trying to figure out what to do. He figured that a brawl in a diner was hardly a reason for the police to set up roadblocks.

  Then he looked back at Annie and remembered the expression on her face when the man at the restaurant had shouted that they were calling the cops. And the way she'd reacted when he'd threatened to take her to the police station at Langston.

  He didn't buy her story at all. If someone was putting up roadblocks to find her, the implications were alarming. There was only one way to find out just how much trouble she was in.

  He stopped himself from reaching out to touch her to waken her. The last thing he needed was the feeling of her warm skin under his hands right now, so he gripped the steering wheel and said, "Annie? Annie?"

  As she was drawn from a light, dreamless sleep Annie realized the car had stopped moving. She rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles. "Are we there?"

  "No, we aren't."

  "Then what—"

  She saw him point straight ahead. "Up there. Look."

  She turned to glance in the direction he indicated and she didn't understand at first. Through the branches of the scrubby trees, she didn't see the glow of a town or lights from houses. She saw flashing lights in a cluster, their colors spotting the night.

  "Wh-what's going on?" she asked.

  "I think we've found the police or they've found us."

  Her heart lurched. "What?"

  "It's a roadblock." Then he shook her by asking, "Are they looking for you?"

  "No, of course not. I'm not some criminal."

  "Then let's drive through and see what happens."

  But she didn't want to face the police. She didn't know how far Trevor would go. Until today, she never would've thought he'd threaten to take her child away from her. When Quint would have put the car in gear, she acted instinctively and grabbed at his arm. "No. Don't."

  "Why not?"

  He froze at the contact, and she could feel the tension in the muscles under his warm skin. What could she tell him? "I … I…"

  "I'll make this simple for you. Do whatever you want to do, but we don't have much time in case someone saw me pull off the road. They'll send someone to check. It's your call."

  She had an urge to tell him to turn around and hit the gas, but she couldn't. This was the end of the road with Quint and she knew it. The most overwhelming urge to hold on to him filled her, but she pulled back her hand and reached for her purse. "You're right, it's my call. I'll get out here."

  When he didn't say a thing, she looked at him to find him studying her so intently she felt as if he were looking into her soul. "Are you ever going to tell me the truth?"

  She could feel her nails biting into her palms as she quashed the urge to blurt out everything. But she couldn't. The stakes were too high, so she decided to tell him a slightly altered version of the truth. "It's nothing. My friend was getting married and found out the man was a real snake, so she called it off … and I had a fight with him. He blames me for it."

  "Why, were you the one to talk her out of it?"

  "No, she heard the groom-to-be talking to a friend and she found out some things that were pretty awful. So she called it off."

  "So he turned the cops loose on you?"

  "I'm sure this roadblock has nothing to do with me, but…" She touched her tongue to her lips. "I'm probably overreacting, but the groom knows people in high places and I just don't want any more trouble. His family could buy and sell the whole police department."

  "He sounds like a catch," Quint muttered.

  "He's a jerk." She reached for the door handle. "Thanks for everything, Quint. I'll leave you in peace as soon as you get my suitcase out of the trunk." She expected him to get out then, but he didn't move.

  "Annie? Where are you going to go?"

  She looked around. "I guess across that pasture area, try to get around the roadblock, then find a ride farther down the way." That was the best idea she could come up with right now. None of her plans were very thought out. Everything had gone awry since she ran from Trevor. "I'll play it by ear and try not to take a ride from someone like Bugsy the truck driver."

  "How about someone like me?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Go across the field, and I'll try to wait for you about half a mile farther down the road."

  She felt as if she were hearing words she'd conjured up herself because some part of her wanted Quint to be there for her. But Quint was there, watching her, waiting for her answer. "Are you serious?"

  "I said I'd take you to the next town."

  "But you almost threw me out of your car back at the restaurant."

  "I would have, too."

  "But you didn't have the time."

  "The fact is, I'm going west."

  She wasn't going to question his offer any further. "Thanks," she said, so overwhelmed she could say nothing more.

  "Thank me when we both get by the roadblock."

  "I know I'm not supposed to ask any questions, but are you going to have problems getting past the police?"

  "I hope not," he said. "But I'll find out soon enough."

  Quint looked ahead at the cluster of lights. "I'll be waiting by the side of the road with the emergency lights on." He flashed her a dark look over his shoulder as he put the car in gear. "If you don't show up, all I can say is, it's been interesting, Annie."

  "Yes, it has been," she whispered as he slowly eased the car back onto the road and turned on the headlights.

  Annie waited until he was almost to the roadblock before she turned and walked into the field. Dry grass and weeds crunched under her shoes as she headed away from the road.

  She walked quickly, thankful for the dottings of brush and scrub trees that she could use for cover. The warm air made her clothes stick to her skin. She never expected Quint to offer to wait for her, and it touched her. He had every reason to run and keep running as far as he could from her. But he was waiting ahead in the night, and she picked up her pace.

  Quint slowed as he approached the police cars parked three abreast on the road. Cops always made him uneasy, but right now his
heart was pounding and his mouth was dry. What was he doing when he'd offered to wait for Annie down the road? When was he going to get over the urge to protect others? He was becoming an expert at complicating his life.

  As Quint slowed, he could see three uniformed state troopers by the grouping of white cars. As one of them started toward the Corvette, Quint saw Annie's purse lying on the floor and casually leaned over and pushed it under the seat.

  Quint took a deep, steadying breath, kept his hands on the steering wheel and watched the trooper approach the driver's door, flashlight in hand.

  He aimed the strong beam at Quint for a moment, then around the interior of the convertible. When he lowered the light, he said, "Your driver's license and vehicle registration, sir?"

  "Sure," Quint said and reached across to the glove compartment to get out the registration, trying not to disturb the parole papers under which it rested. He quickly snapped the compartment and handed the trooper the registration. Then he took out his wallet and slipped his driver's license out.

  "Long way from home, aren't you?" the cop asked as he flashed his light on the registration.

  "Yes, sir," Quint said as he held his license and pushed his wallet back in his pocket.

  "Where're you heading?"

  "California." He looked at the squad cars, then back at the man. "What's going on?"

  "Actually, we're looking for a woman."

  Quint barely stopped his right hand from closing around the driver's license and crushing it. "A woman?"

  The man returned Quint's registration and license, then he reached into the pocket of his uniform, took out a picture and handed it to him. The cop aimed the beam of his flashlight at the photo so Quint got a good look at it.

  "That's her, Anne Marie Thomas."

  His driver's license crushed slowly in his right hand as he stared at the head and shoulders shot, taken in full sunlight with a backdrop of what looked like a barn or stables. Quint stared at the image, at the brilliant hair tumbling in curls around a face dominated by deep green eyes and a smile that made his stomach clench.

  Anne Marie Thomas was Annie and, despite her assurances to the contrary, she was indeed wanted by the police. Quint could feel a sheen of moisture on his skin, and the warm breeze was suddenly touching him with a chill that went deep into his being. "What did she do?"

  "Since you aren't from around here, I doubt you've heard of the Raines family."

  "No, sir, I haven't."

  "Well, let's say they own most of the county and a lot of the state." He moved a bit closer and Quint thought he detected a faint look of distaste in the trooper's expression. "Their son put out a complaint on this woman."

  Quint stared at the man. "What for?"

  "They were supposed to get married tomorrow, but earlier this afternoon he calls the police and charges her with assault."

  Quint felt as if he'd been hit himself. Annie was the runaway bride-to-be! But he couldn't comprehend the assault part. "Did you say she assaulted him?"

  "That's right." The man actually laughed. "He's not a small guy, but she knocked him cold. And he's pressing charges. He's at our backs to find her."

  Before Quint could ask any more questions or return Annie's photo to the man, another officer called out, "Hey, Joe, someone's spotted the Thomas woman back at The Amigo."

  "All right," he called, then looked at Quint. "Good luck in California, sir," he said, then turned and hurried back to the nearest squad car, forgetting all about the picture.

  Quint didn't move while the man got in the white car, flipped on the siren, then took off in a squeal of tires and flashing lights. When one of the other cops waved at Quint to move on, Quint looked down at the picture he still held in his hand. He pressed it flat on his thigh, catching it between the denim of his jeans and his palm.

  Slowly he drove forward, through the opening in the cluster of cars, then he sped up as he hit the open road. Anne Marie Thomas. He could feel the photo still pressed against his thigh, and he grimaced. Liar. She was running because she assaulted some rich, powerful bridegroom. And he'd helped her escape from the law. An accomplice. Or an accessory. He was a paroled ex-con and he would've been a sitting duck if the cops had stopped him with her. What was probably a lover's quarrel could have landed him back in prison.

  The idea of not stopping for her was very tempting, but he couldn't do it. When he'd gone half a mile and was out of sight of the roadblock, he pulled to the side of the road and turned on his flashers. Then he looked out at the dark field to his right, but couldn't see any movement.

  He had some need to confront Annie with her lies, to at least tell her he knew before he left her here. And maybe to vent his feelings of being used and deceived.

  He shifted in the seat and regarded the picture in the pale light of the partial moon. The image ate at him … the smile, the look as if she had the world by the tail. Anger welled up in him and he slapped the photo facedown on the level area of the console, then waited.

  When he couldn't sit still any longer, he snatched the picture up and got out. He circled the car and leaned back against the passenger door while he stared out at the field. After what seemed an eternity, he spotted a lone figure trudging in his direction. He pushed aside an unsettling sense of relief that she'd made it and stepped into the pasture.

  When Annie spotted the flashing parking lights coming through the night, she was startled that she almost felt as if she were going home. She'd made it. Quint was waiting. With everything falling apart around her, for a second she felt grounded and safe, a feeling so alien to her that she barely knew how to deal with it.

  She hurried, walking faster, then she saw Quint coming toward her. He looked large and dark in the paleness of the moonlight, and he looked amazingly like a port in a storm. She walked even faster, and when she got close to Quint it seemed the most natural thing in the world for her to reach out and hold on to him.

  She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the heat of his chest and holding on so tightly that her arms were shaking. The beating of his heart was against her cheek, and the rhythm was as fast as hers. "We made it!" she whispered in a broken voice. "Thank goodness."

  Tears were close to the surface, but as his scent surrounded and filled her, mingling with his body heat, things began to shift, the way they had when she'd kissed him at the diner. A man she'd met hours ago was making her feel things that she couldn't remember ever experiencing with any other man before.

  A stranger, a man she knew little about, and she had to fight the urge to hold on to him forever and never let go. She had to stop herself from moving even closer.

  Then she realized something strange; Quint wasn't exactly hugging her. His hands were on her shoulders, but he was attempting to gently push her away from him. And when she looked up into his remote expression, fire burned in her cheeks. She'd reacted so intensely, and she'd been so wrong.

  "You were right to avoid the roadblock. They're looking for you."

  At the sound of his blunt statement, the blood drained from her face and for a second she thought she was going to pass out. "Oh, God," she breathed and reached out to Quint for support, but before she could do more than sense his heat near her fingers, he jerked back.

  The action left her feeling as if she'd been hit in the stomach.

  "I don't think praying's going to do you any good," he said flatly.

  Then he held up a small photo in front of her, and it shook her when she recognized her own image.

  "Where did you—?"

  "Who is she?" he demanded in a low, rough voice.

  She looked away from the photo to Quint and swallowed hard. "You know."

  "No, you tell me who she is."

  His tone was so cold it cut her deeply and she closed her eyes. "She's a woman who made some bad decisions in her life, then she thought she'd made one good one. She was wrong." Annie opened her eyes but didn't look at Quint. She stared at the dry brush under her sandaled feet. "She
agreed to marry the wrong man, and that man wouldn't let her go."

  He was silent for what seemed an eternity, then he turned away and started back to the car. She went after him and almost had to run to keep up with his long, determined stride. When they got to the car, Quint stopped so abruptly that she barely stopped herself from running into his back.

  "You're on your own, Anne Marie Thomas. Your purse is under the seat and I'll get your bag out of the trunk."

  His words chilled her almost as much as his actions moments ago or the fact that Trevor had the police looking for her. "Quint, the police, what did they say exactly?"

  "They showed me this," he said as he held the photo out to her. "Here, it's yours."

  "I don't want it. I told you, I made a mistake and—"

  "You lied."

  "I just thought—"

  "They said you skipped out on your wedding to the son of one of the most powerful families around. Apparently, they're powerful enough to commandeer a squad of state troopers to track down the woman who assaulted their son!"

  Trevor was claiming assault! She closed her eyes for a moment, almost holding her breath waiting for him to mention Sammi. "What else did the police tell you?" she asked, hating the unsteadiness in her voice.

  He was silent until she opened her eyes and looked at him. "Enough to let me know I'm out of here. I don't need this kind of trouble."

  She felt giddy, the world an unsteady place for her. And her need to get to Sammi was overwhelming. "Come on, just take me to the next town, then I'll leave you alone," she said and tried to step around him to go to the passenger door.

  But Quint grabbed her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks. The contact was tight and firm, and she stood very still, staring at the car, but not looking at Quint. "What?" she whispered.

  "All I need is to have the cops coming back this way and finding you with me."

  "If we get going, they won't find you," she said, her jaw clenching to keep any trembling under control. His hold hovered just this side of real pain, but Annie didn't move. "You said you'd take me to the next town."