“I always had what I thought was a sound business reason.”
“I—I know.” She looked out the window where the mountains loomed, solid and secure. “I finally realized that my resistance comes down to the fact that I couldn’t save my mom.”
“I doubt anyone expected you to. Why did you think it was up to you?”
“Because I was twenty years old and pretty much convinced that the fate of the world—or at least the fate of this ranch—depended on me.”
“You still think that,” Brady pointed out.
“I know, but I’ve learned something from you.”
“How to fall on your keister, or fall on your face, or—?”
She shook her head. “How to keep getting up.”
“What do you mean?”
She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and plunged in. “One of the best things about you is that you always look ahead, always have new ideas. I’m guessing you get that from your upbringing, the way your family moved around.”
“I guess so.” His dark eyes were thoughtful. “Never really thought about it.”
“You don’t live in the past, but I have. So have Dad and Sharlene. I think it partly comes from living in a place where we’ve been for four generations. The past is as ingrained as the present, and in a way, it pulls us back.”
“That’s why you don’t like change, because change means you have to adjust how you feel about Eaglecrest.”
Zannah released a whoosh of breath. “I really do sound rigid.”
“No, only craving stability.” He stepped closer. “If you agree to sell off part of Eaglecrest, what will give you stability, Zannah?”
Her heart pounding in her throat, she met his gaze. “You, Brady. I love you.”
“Thank God,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “I love you, too.”
Their lips met in a rush of tender heat that warmed her all the way through. His mouth tasted sweet and welcoming. After a moment, he pulled away and began placing kisses on her cheeks and forehead.
“What are you doing?” she asked shakily.
“Returning the favor,” he answered. “You made my wounds all better. I’m hoping this will heal yours.”
“You’re doing a fine job, but my lips feel neglected.”
With a laugh, he returned to kissing those, as well, then eased her away from him and said, “I know this is sudden, but I got a call from my mom. My parents are going to be in Phoenix next week. I was thinking maybe we can take Joelle home and then you can meet them.”
She blinked. “You want me to meet your parents?”
“Well, it’s kind of traditional. I mean, I know your family. Probably be a good idea for you to meet mine before the wedding.”
“Wedding? Who said anything about a wedding?”
“I did. Just now. You’ve really got to start listening to me, Zannah,” he teased, then grew solemn. “Will you marry me? A life without you would be grim.”
She looked up at him, at the still-healing scrapes on his face highlighted by a flush of pink—the sunburn he’d probably picked up yesterday on the long ride home.
“Yes,” she said, standing on tiptoe to reach his lips. “Of course.” She smiled. “Will I be meeting your brothers next week, too?”
“No! You might change your mind about marrying me.”
“Won’t you want them for groomsmen?”
“Maybe. If they can behave. Of course, we’ll probably have to really limit their time with our kids. No telling what they might teach them.”
“Our kids?” She laughed. “There you go again, making plans for me.”
“Yeah,” he agreed proudly. “I’m getting really good at it.”
“Oh, that’s about to change,” she responded, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling his face down to her. “Marriage is all about compromise.”
“I’m good at that, too.” He kissed her again, and she realized that this was the kind of change she would enjoy.
* * *
“THIS BARN HAS never looked so good,” Gus observed. “I’ll bet it hasn’t been this clean since the day it was built.”
Zannah straightened the full skirt of her wedding dress, clutched her bouquet in nervous fingers and slipped her other hand into the crook of her father’s elbow. “It’s perfect for a double wedding. I’m so glad you and Sharlene decided to do this with us.”
“It’s our pleasure, honey,” Sharlene said from behind them. When Gus started to turn around, she reached out and gave him a gentle shove as she said, “Uh-uh, forget it, mister. You’re not seeing me until the wedding starts, and they haven’t played the march yet. Chet, you might have to make him obey,” she said to the man who was giving her away.
“I’m all over it, Sharlene,” he answered with a laugh. “But after this, it’s all on you.”
“I know. I’m so lucky.”
Gus laughed and tightened his grip on Zannah’s arm. “I’m the lucky one, Sharlene,” he said over his shoulder.
Zannah looked toward the front of the scrubbed and decorated barn. Phoebe and her mom, Stella, had outdone themselves with beautiful bouquets of flowers and meadow grasses placed in stands along the way.
Before her were her bridesmaids, Joelle and Emma—now in a walking cast. Both of them were looking beautiful in teal dresses and fairly vibrating with excitement. As expected, Brady’s brothers, Finn and Miles, were his groomsmen. They treated her nieces as if they were a couple of princesses, and the girls reveled in the attention.
She looked to where Brady awaited her at the altar, his smile full of pride and anticipation, his eyes full of love. No moment in her life had ever filled her with this much joy and happiness.
“You ready, honey?” Gus asked as the wedding march began and the guests rose to their feet.
“Oh, yes. This is a change I can live with.”
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Caught by the Sheriff by Rula Sinara.
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Caught by the Sheriff
by Rula Sinara
CHAPTER ONE
HAD FAYE DONOVAN known she’d be a child kidnapper and fugitive by afternoon, she would have skipped her second double shot of espresso that morning. The extra caffeine had helped her survive grooming a 130-pound Newfoundland, who’d assumed his owner had created the muddy, busted water pipe disaster in his backyard just for him to swim in, but the residual buzz was doing nothing for her pulse at the moment. If it raced any faster, she’d have a heart attack before her crime was committed, and that simply wasn’t an option.
She pulled her aging, powder blue Beetle up in front of a two-story colonial flanked by a barren weeping willow on its left and an oak, clinging stubbornly to its shriveled brown leaves, on the right. A poinsettia wreath still graced the door, despite it being well into the second week of February. The knot in her stomach cinched even tighter as she double-checked the address she’d jotted down on the back of one of her Dog Galaxy business cards.
This was it.
She glanced back at the rear-facing car seat she’d managed to buy and install only an hour ago—a process that had nearly driven her to tears given the almost impossible fit. She’d handle grooming a massive canine any day over what parents with babies had to handle. The amount of equipment and accessories babies required was downright mind-boggling, not to mention expensive. But what she was about to do was more than worth it. She knew that. She didn’t doubt it for a second. What she doubted was her ability to pull this off. What if she failed? It wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen short or let someone down.
Family, especially. Only this time a child was involved. She took a deep breath and held it a few seconds to push back a wave of nausea.
You’ve got this. Just get in there and back to the car as fast as you can without looking suspicious. You’re running out of time. The baby seat is secure enough.
The store clerk had suggested visiting a police or fire station to check the install. Yeah, right. That wasn’t going to happen. Not today, anyway. She couldn’t risk being identified once news broke that the child of one of the DC metroplex’s most famous and successful prosecuting lawyers was missing. Besides, she wouldn’t get far in this car—the car she’d pined for throughout college and had managed to buy used, shortly after starting her dog grooming and training business. She knew she’d have to trade it for something a little more generic before the kid’s father put out an Amber Alert. Not that a new one couldn’t be traced, but it would buy her time. All that mattered right now was getting out of town and not getting caught.
She started to open her door just as a siren blared past the intersection up ahead. She pulled the door shut, sank into the driver’s seat and muttered a curse. She pressed both hands to her chest, but corralling a swarm of spooked bees back into their hives would have been easier than getting her heart rate back to normal.
“They’re not looking for you. Nothing has happened yet. You’ve got this.”
She closed her eyes briefly, gathered whatever courage she had, opened the door and tried not to run up the path to the house.
Play it cool. You’ve pulled off the twin switch plenty of times.
Somehow switching places with her sister, Clara, in high school to make it through exams didn’t equate with posing as her twin in order to kidnap her baby. Her eyes stung and she briskly wiped the corners and blinked them dry. God, she hoped Clara was okay. Worry, frustration and anger all jumbled in the pit of her stomach, but she had to stay focused. She could fall apart later, but she couldn’t fail now. Not this time. She wasn’t going to back down no matter what the consequences. She wasn’t going to let Clara cave in.
But what if it’s too late? What if Jim took it too far this time? What if Clara’s gone?
She picked up her pace, sucking in the icy air, hoping to freeze her train of thought and keep it from spiraling downward. She tried to channel the anger it brewed into the task at hand. He was not going to win. Not this time.
She checked the time on her phone, then stuffed it back in the pocket of her down jacket. It was one-thirty already. The car seat had taken up more time than she’d planned on. Heaven knows that Newfie had taken longer to clean up than she’d planned on too. She’d never washed a dog so fast in her life. She would have canceled the appointment, but she had not heard the desperate message from her sister until the dog had already been dropped off this morning. And the guilt of that plagued her. How many times had her sister accused her of putting her business first? How many times had she run more than an hour late for dinner at Clara’s or had to skip it altogether? Missing out on spending time with her niece and sister. Avoiding it, according to Clara, who was convinced Faye liked dogs more than kids...or family. Clara had never forgiven Faye for all the times she had to cancel helping her shop for baby items before the birth a year and a half ago. She didn’t seem to understand that Faye’s business was demanding and that she was doing well because clients could count on her being there for them. But your own sister couldn’t count on you? Clara had accused Faye of being better at coming through for strangers than she was at being there for family. Was that why Clara had stayed loyally by Jim’s side? Was that Faye’s fault too?
She shuddered at the memory of Clara’s bruised cheek and eye a month ago. The bruises Faye had seen on her sister’s shoulder and back months prior to that, in a changing room mirror during a rare trip clothes shopping when Clara had shrunk a size, had triggered a heated argument between them. Clara hadn’t expected Faye to open the changing room curtain to check on her. Faye was supposed to have been preoccupied with holding Mia.
Clara had insisted the bruises were caused by books falling off a closet shelf while she was cleaning. Then there was the broken ankle she’d explained away earlier. All Faye could do the entire time she was dog washing this morning was remember similar incidents in the past. The bruise on Clara’s left arm after she’d supposedly bumped into the corner of her dresser. The one on her calf from slipping on the steps. The tears that were never triggered by anything more than “pregnancy hormones,” even when Faye sensed tension between Clara and Jim. And the forced smile whenever her sister insisted that putting aside any professional career of her own was her idea as much as Jim’s. Why had Clara been making excuses for it all? Shame? Was she afraid that problems with Jim would equate to her having failed at marriage? That it would mean disappointing her parents once again? She would have failed at the one thing she’d accomplished that Faye hadn’t already done? The one thing her parents praised her for? But the black eye her sister had tried covering up with makeup four weeks ago? That was when Clara had finally admitted that she and Jim had gotten in an argument.
The way Faye saw it, he’d gone from being careful to make sure any injuries he inflicted weren’t easily seen, to losing control and hitting her in the face. At that point, Faye had urged her sister to report the incident and leave him. She’d even driven her to the police station, but before Clara had spoken with anyone officially, someone notified Jim that his wife was at the station. He had shown up completely prepared. The doting, concerned husband. The lawyer who knew how to plant reasonable doubt in minds. The mention of a mugging and Clara’s antidepressants. He had whispered something in Clara’s ear that Faye couldn’t make out. All she knew was that her sister’s eyes had darkened and Clara had backed off. No charges were made. Clara simply claimed that she couldn’t identify the man who had hit her.
Jim’s friends at the station had looked the other way much too easily, especially when he slipped in a compliment about the new computer system. An upgrade one of his contributions must have funded. Faye had noticed the way the sheriff exchanged glances with him. Something silent passed between them. Not necessarily disregard for Clara’s state, but perhaps a warning. Faye’s gut told her it reeked of an “I’ve got your back, but I can only cover you for so long” warning. A brotherhood of sorts.
What would it take to break that kind of loyalty? Permanent injury? Death?
Clara had begged her, that evening, to let it go. She claimed that Jim had apologized profusely and agreed to counseling “at some point in the near future.” As soon as he could work it into his schedule. That wasn’t good enough. Didn’t Clara understand that? Didn’t she get that she was worth more than that? Faye didn’t buy Jim’s empty promises, but Clara had insisted that pressuring him would only make things worse. That she thought she could save her marriage and that she needed to. The idea of being a single mom, alone with a toddler and no job, scared her. Even worse was the potential fallout of pushing Jim too far. But from the looks of it, he was the one who’d gone too far this time. Clara may not have had the confidence to defend herself, but she would protect Mia at all costs. Jim had awakened something primal in Clara. It jarred each word in the message she’d left that morning. Faye could hear it in the way her voice cracked with her last words. It was the first time she’d heard from her sister in three days.
Take Mia and go. Hide her from him. And don’t trust anyone. Especially not the police. He’ll find out. He always does. I tried again and it only made things worse. Just get her far from here. There was a rustling sound and gasp. He’s coming. I have to go. She goes to a playdate at 222 Gretchen Street today until 2:00 p.m. Get there before him. Please, Faye. You’re the only person I can trust. I love you.
That was it. The first thing she did was try to check Clara’s location on her phone’s text app, but her sister...or Jim...must have turned the tracking off. The day before yesterday, when Clara hadn’t retu
rned her calls or texts, Faye had called the house. Jim, sounding more irritated than concerned, told her that Clara had left him and Mia. Not because of anything he’d done—he’d sworn profusely that he hadn’t laid a hand on her—but because Clara had been suffering from depression and anxiety and clearly couldn’t handle the pressures of motherhood. He said that the mild postpartum depression she’d suffered after Mia was born had returned with a vengeance. That her moods had been erratic. He claimed that she’d lost control of her emotions and had been taking it out on him. That it was actually Clara who had lashed out at him physically and anything he’d ever done was in self-defense. He said Clara had left a note telling him she needed a break. For Jim that was proof she had something to hide, even from her sister. That she hadn’t told the whole truth when she’d gone to the cops with Faye. He said that maybe it was for the best that she’d left Mia with him. That Mia wasn’t safe with her mother.
That didn’t sit right with Faye. It just didn’t. She hadn’t picked up on any signs of depression in her sister since the first few months after Mia was born. Even then it had been relatively mild. Besides, Clara lashing out physically at Jim? No way. She didn’t even swear or insult people. She didn’t have it in her.
Faye had called her sister’s phone relentlessly after that without success. She found it hard believing Jim, but the guy had a way of blurring lines and making a person second-guess themselves. Then yesterday morning, when she called Jim to see if he’d heard anything or needed help with Mia, he said that Clara had returned home late the night before, and she’d agreed to check into a mental health rehab center. He’d taken her there and said the center had a policy of no phone calls or visitors for the first week.
Wouldn’t her sister have returned her missed calls before checking into rehab? As different as they were, the two of them had always been close. They had that twin connection. Surely, Clara would have confided in her. Wouldn’t she? Or had falling in love and getting married weakened that connection more than she’d realized? Faye missed having her sister all to herself. Or maybe she was jealous. No. She was happy that Clara had married and started a family. Faye didn’t want to be tied down at this point in her life. She had her business and the love of all the dogs she worked with.
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