He’d keep his mouth shut about her boyfriend, but he sure enjoyed listening to her talk. She had such an uplifting tone of voice. She was sarcastic at times, and yet her voice turned tender. Either way, he smiled like a fool.
The picture Judge Peterson had sent him of Riley didn’t do her justice. She was much prettier in person, and she didn’t look as young as her photo. She talked about college, but didn’t get into any details. But he was ready to get off the subject of Mark and talk about something interesting.
When there was a break in the conversation, he quickly asked, “So what’s your major? What classes are you taking in college?”
Her face relaxed when she smiled this time, and he realized she had really pretty eyes. Not really brown, and not really green… Hazel. It’s a good thing she was going to hate him soon, because he didn’t think he’d be able to handle her smoldering eyes looking at him all the time.
“I’m going after my doctorate,” she said. “I’m going to be a Pharmacist.”
He snapped his mind out of the hazy mist her smile seemed to put him under. Doctorate? Was she serious? Whether it was because he knew her mother or not, he was actually proud of Riley for going after her dream.
“How far along in school are you?”
“I’m halfway through my masters. After that, I’ll only have two more years before I obtain my doctorate.”
He stared at her with wide eyes for several seconds before realizing he was driving and needed to pay closer attention to the road. “How old are you? There’s no way you can be older than twenty-five.”
She laughed a musical tone, and he smiled wider.
“I’m twenty-seven, but thank you for thinking I look younger.”
“That’s everyone’s dream, isn’t it?”
She nudged him with her arm. “If you looked any younger, I’d think you were still in high school.”
He snorted and shook his head. “Sorry, sweetie. Your compliments aren’t working because I know better.”
“Seriously, though… How old are you?”
He threw her a quick glance before returning his attention to the road. “I’m twenty-nine.”
She shook her head. “I would have never guessed that.”
He didn’t have any comeback for her remark, but he did want to know more about her, especially her relationship with her mother. But as he opened his mouth to speak, she laughed.
“In fact,” she said, “you are probably a chameleon in more ways than aging.”
“What do you mean?”
Tilting her head, she ran her gaze over him from the top of his cowboy hat, down to his unpolished black boots.
“Although you appear as if you want to be a cowboy, I don’t think you really are.”
“If your idea of a cowboy is someone who rides horses, lives on a ranch, and ropes cattle…then no, I’m not a cowboy.”
“So what do you do?”
“I’m the sheriff of Gallatin County.”
She gasped. “No way!” She leaned over and pulled back his vest. “Where’s your badge?”
“I took it off.”
“Why?”
“I was coming to get you.” He shrugged.
She arched an eyebrow. “And you couldn’t wear your badge because…”
“I didn’t want to startle you.”
Her gaze narrowed on him. “Why do you think you’d startle me? Once I knew you were Mark’s friend, I knew I could trust you.”
His gut twisted. Wrong thing to say! But then, he needed to tell her the truth. They were nearly to Big Sky. He’d tell her then. He was enjoying their conversation too much to ruin it now.
“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.” He chuckled.
“How long have you lived in Big Sky?”
“About a year now.”
“Really?” Her voice lifted. “You’ve only been a sheriff for that long?”
He nodded.
“What were you doing before that?”
Mischievousness rooted inside of him, making him want to tease her a little. “Why don’t you tell me what you think I was doing before that.”
“Oh, that sounds fun. Okay.” She rubbed her hands together. “But first, you have to tell me where you were living, and then I’ll tell you what I think you were doing.”
“I was living in Seattle, Washington.”
Her eyes widened. “You were?”
“Yep, for most of my life, in fact. Now tell me, what was I doing?”
Skepticism altered her expression, and her gaze narrowed. He’d bet his truck that she was wondering if he knew her mother.
“Um… Were you a…bailiff?”
He burst out laughing. “A bailiff? Why would you think that?”
“Well,” she motioned her hand toward him, “you’re built tough, so I figured you work out for a reason.”
She noticed my body? He grinned wide again, unable to stop it. “Actually, you’re on the right track with that thought, but no, I’m not a bailiff.”
“Did you work for the court system?”
“Hmm… Sort of.”
She released a frustrated sigh. “Sort of? What kind of answer is that?”
“It means, sweetie, that you are close to guessing what I did in Seattle, Washington.”
She growled softly and folded her arms. “Just tell me, did you or did you not work in a courtroom setting.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did…you ever wear a uniform?”
“At certain times in my career, I did.”
“Uh, did you work closely with a…judge?”
He shrugged. “Not really closely, but my position required me to talk to judges from time to time.”
“You weren’t a lawyer, were you?”
He arched his eyebrow. “Do I look like a lawyer?”
“No.” She chuckled. “Most of the lawyers I know are kind of puny. They’re not muscular like you are.”
Obviously, she’s checked out my physique a few times. “But I don’t work with lawyers as much as I’ve worked with judges.”
She was quiet for a few more seconds. He wanted to watch as she moved her gaze over him, but he couldn’t because now he was pulling off the freeway and entering Big Sky.
Suddenly, she sucked in a quick breath and clapped her hands once. “Oh, I know. You were a cop.”
He glanced at her and nodded. “Congratulations. I was a cop, but then I was promoted to detective. That was the position I held when I quit the force.”
“Why did you quit?” Her question came at him fast. But after a few seconds and he didn’t answer, she rested her hand on his arm. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Actually, I don’t. That’s all right, because we’re here now.”
Riley didn’t talk much as he drove through town on his way to his log cabin. Where he lived wasn’t a mansion as she was probably used to, but he was happy with what he had. He was especially happy with the solitude it gave him. There were times when loneliness washed over him, but he had pushed those feelings aside and went hunting or fishing. That seemed like the cure for everything.
When he took a different road leading out of the small town, her body stiffened. He’d had to read body language a lot while working with criminals, and so he knew when reality finally sank into her head that this was not Mark’s surprise.
“Where are we going?” she asked in an insecure voice.
It looked like their pleasant conversation was over, and he probably wouldn’t be privileged to see her eyes light up when she smiled, either.
“I’m taking you to my cabin.”
“W-w-why?”
“Because that’s where we’ll stay until your mother arrives.”
* * * *
Riley was speechless.
And pissed!
This man had taken her in his beat-up old truck—while she was in her wedding gown—and lied to her just to get her to meet her mother? And she’d allowed him to do that? She’d a
llowed herself to believe him! If she wasn’t so upset, she’d feel like a fool for trusting him so easily.
“My mother?” She nearly choked on the word. “You kidnapped me because of my mother?”
He tsked and shook his head. “I didn’t kidnap you, sweetie. Let me remind you, that you came along willingly.”
She tightened her fingers around the flowers glared. “That’s because you led me to believe you were part of Mark’s surprise.”
“Uh, sweetie.” He pointed to the flowers. “You’d better not do that to those things or they’ll die.”
“Things?” She lifted her voice. “For your information, these particular flowers are called buttercups.”
“Whatever.” He tapped his hand against the steering wheel. “And as for me leading you on as you’d called it, I needed to do something to get you to come with me. How would it have looked to your neighbors if you were kicking and screaming while I carried you to my truck and threw you inside?”
“Augh!” She hit his arm. “At least my neighbors would have thought something was wrong and would have called the police!”
He shook his head. “That’s all water under the bridge. And for the record, I’m glad you came willingly.”
“But I wouldn’t have if I’d known…”
“Like I said, everything turned out the way I’d wanted.”
She huffed and straightened in her seat. Her wilted flowers lay on her lap, their leaves and petals drooping in the heat. Her heart felt the same way. She could have been at her wedding now. She could have been Mrs. Reynolds by now!”
Suddenly, her mind stopped. Mark would certainly wonder what happened to her and come to look for her. She prayed that her nosey neighbors will tell him they saw Riley leaving with a man who drove a beat-up Chevy truck.
Trying to calm herself, she took a long deep breath in through the nose, and out through the mouth. She mustn’t let her anger control everything. She needed to think of a way out of this, and her mind wouldn’t be able to work if she was irate.
“Is my mother paying you?” she asked without looking his way.
“That’s none of your concern.”
She rolled her eyes. Of course her mother was paying! If not, her father would have. On second thought, her father wouldn’t have cared less about her marrying a man she’d only known for a month. For sure, this was all her mother’s fault. This was something Riley would never forgive her mother for.
She bit her tongue and didn’t say anymore until he finally drove his truck into what appeared to be a driveway next to a rundown log cabin. Did Kurt live here? Why would he give up a great job in the city, and what she assumed a great apartment, for a place like this?
He shifted the vehicle into park and then pulled out his keys. The truck sputtered and shook a few times before finally dying.
“Well, sweetie. Here we are. Home sweet home.”
She pierced him with a glare. “This is not my home, and…stop calling me sweetie!”
Chuckling, he climbed out of the truck and shut his door. She kept her glare on him as he walked around the front of the truck to her side and opened the door.
He held out his hand. “May I help you down, darlin’?”
She grumbled and yanked off the seatbelt. There was no reason to be careful with her wedding dress today. Obviously, there wasn’t going to be a wedding. At least not now.
“I don’t need your help,” she snapped at him, pushing him aside as she hopped down. “And don’t call me darlin’, either!”
He shrugged and then reached in the bed of the truck and snatched her suitcase. “It’s a good thing you brought a change of clothes. Maybe your dress won’t get ruined now.”
She rolled her eyes. Now he’s worried about her dress?
When she tried to take her suitcase away, he shook his head and gripped the handle tighter.
“Sorry, luv. I’m not going to give this to you until I pull your cell phone out. I wouldn’t want you to call Mark to come rescue you.”
“Augh!” How she wanted to strangle this man! “Will you stop calling me cutesy little nicknames? My name is Riley. Can’t you call me Riley?”
He grinned more out of one side of his mouth than the other. It appeared as if he had a dimple beneath that goatee. If she didn’t hate him so much right now, she’d think it was adorable the way he smiled.
“You don’t like my nicknames?”
“No!”
“Darn, because I just thought of another name for you.”
“What?”
“Buttercup.” He pointed to the flowers in her hand. “Like your flowers.”
Frowning, she fought back tears. She definitely felt like her wilted flowers because there was no more life left in them. At this moment, her heart was dying, as was her belief in fairy tale endings.
FOUR
Kurt didn’t trust her at all.
Of course, if he was in her situation, he’d bolt the first moment he got. He wouldn’t make a good victim, either.
It had been two hours since he’d brought her to his home, and she had somehow lost her voice. He missed it. But she certainly hadn’t lost her glare. She could melt glaciers with that heated scowl.
He’d allowed her to change her clothes. She now wore a tight pair of jeans, a loose t-shirt, and a white pair of sneakers. Her hair wasn’t coiled in a bun any longer, but instead, it was braided and tied with a colorful band. She looked more like a school girl now. When she was wearing her wedding dress, she was too pretty…too desirable. And he wasn’t going to make the mistake of falling for her just because she had a pretty face. Then again, he didn’t want to fall for her at all. So keeping her mad at him was a wise thing to do.
Kurt left her in the front room to watch tv, and thankfully, she hadn’t moved from that spot. He was sure she was trying to figure out an escape plan, though, but he wouldn’t give her the chance. Any time now her mother would be here…he hoped.
He pulled out his cell and checked for any missed calls or missed texts. Nothing. He found Judge Peterson’s number and called her, but it went directly to voicemail. After leaving a message, telling her that he had her daughter, he pushed the cell back into his pocket.
Well, since he didn’t want to sit around and do nothing, he might as well start dinner. But should he tie her up so she wouldn’t try to get away? He couldn’t cook and babysit her at the same time.
He walked into the front room and stood in front of her. She tried not to acknowledge his presence by looking around him toward the television.
“I figured you’ll probably be getting hungry, so I’m going to make dinner. But I don’t want to leave you alone, so it’s your choice—do you want me to tie you up or handcuff you to the couch?”
Finally, he received her attention. Her wide eyes pierced him with her heated glare.
“You’ve got to be joking! You really want me to answer that?”
“Well, of course. I don’t want you to think I’m a terrible guy.”
She rolled her eyes and looked back at the television.
“Or, you can help me make dinner.”
Her eyes shifted to him again. This time she didn’t appear as if she wanted to throw flamed daggers at him.
“I’ll help you make dinner.”
She stood from the couch, which brought her right in front of him. Too close in front of him, he might add. Close enough that he could smell her perfume. Not bad. “So tying you up is out of the question?”
She lowered her head and looked at the floor. “I can’t have my hands tied. I’m a little claustrophobic, and being that way will have me hyperventilating.”
Her voice was soft. Something inside his chest tugged, and guilt washed over him. But then he reminded himself, he was not keeping her prisoner. He was just making her stay here until her mother arrived. After that, they could do whatever they wanted—as long as they left him alone.
“All right, then.” He turned and moved toward the kitchen. “Let’s m
ake dinner.”
“What are you going to make?” she asked, following.
“I was going to fry some rainbow trout.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I hope you like fish.”
A small smile smoothed the lines around her mouth. “I haven’t had fish for quite a while.”
“Do you like it?”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Good. How about fried potatoes?”
Her forehead creased. “I don’t think I’ve ever had that.”
“Then you’re in for a surprise. I’m not a bad cook, if I say so myself.”
As he prepared the fish, she peeled the potatoes and cut them up into small squares. After that, she diced an onion. Nothing was really said, but that was all right. At least she was kept busy, and so maybe she wouldn’t think about sulking anymore.
Kurt pulled out the frying pans and placed them on the stove. He took one for the fish, and she stood over the other, stirring the potatoes.
“Kurt?”
He turned his gaze to her. “Yeah?”
“Was my mother supposed to be here?”
He switched his focus back on the fish. “When I talked to her last, she told me she had court, but after that she was going to get a flight out here. I called her not too long ago, but she didn’t answer.”
“Maybe she was in the air and didn’t get a signal.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“When she asked you to get me, did…” She licked her lips. “Did she tell you why she didn’t want me marrying Mark?”
He didn’t like the catch in her voice, and he really hoped she wasn’t going to cry. He couldn’t handle emotional women like that. “Yes.”
After a few moments of silence she stopped stirring and looked at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me?”
“No.”
She huffed. “Why not?”
“Because that’s between you and your mother.”
She shook her head. “Not when you kidnapped me and brought me here. No you are involved, like it or not, and I want answers. Now.”
He chuckled and laid the spatula onto the counter. Leaning back against the counter, he folded his arms. “You’re quite the spoiled little rich girl, aren’t you?”
She scowled. “I’m not a spoiled little rich girl.”
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Altar (Your Every Day Hero Book 2) Page 3
