Because there was no small way to make a difference, was there?
Then people were taking seats, trying to corral children long enough for the minister to do what they were paying him for. And a minute after that his bride was coming down the aisle, her estranged parents on either side, looking resigned to the inevitable if nothing else. Emily, though...
Colin’s throat clogged. Emily had adamantly refused to let Margaret Weber anywhere near the wedding preparations, such as they’d been. In fact, most of the decorations bore the distinct hallmarks of a pair of nine-year-olds with more love and enthusiasm than skill. Emily’s dress, though, had been a secret from everyone—she hadn’t even let Deanna go into Albuquerque with her to get it. And now he couldn’t catch his breath at how freaking gorgeous she was in the simple, shimmery ivory dress, her long hair loosely wound around a few little flowers. The woman simply couldn’t not do classy, that was all there was to it.
Even in the midst of a woefully outdated foreman’s cabin, or mucking out a horse stall...or traipsing through a mud-bogged Central American village with a batch of chattering children clinging to her hands.
Still, Colin was barely aware of what she was wearing for her radiant smile, the same one she’d given to all those children, and anyone else who crossed her path—brighter than the late September sun flashing through the yellowing cottonwoods. Then their hands and eyes were joined, along with their hearts, and the minister pronounced them husband and wife...
And his bride laughed into his eyes, and he was finally, forever, home.
* * * * *
Find the other Talbot brothers’ love stories in previous books in Karen Templeton’s
WED IN THE WEST miniseries:
THE RANCHER’S EXPECTANT CHRISTMAS (Josh)
BACK IN THE SADDLE (Zach)
A SOLDIER’S PROMISE (Levi)
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How to Steal the Lawman's Heart
by Kathy Douglass
Chapter One
Carmen Shields spotted the flashing lights in her rearview mirror and groaned. The worst day of her life was about to get even worse.
“I hope all the papers are in order,” she mumbled, pulling the rental car to the side of the road. She’d been in too much of a hurry when her plane landed in Charlotte forty-five minutes late to do more than toss her hastily packed suitcase into the trunk of the car and drive out of the parking lot at the airport terminal.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d wept nonstop since yesterday, when she’d read about her mother’s death in the Sweet Briar Herald. Although she lived in New York, she had a subscription to her hometown newspaper, the lone link to her past. Her heart ached as she recounted the number of times she’d picked up the phone, only to hang up without dialing. She’d let her fear of rejection win. And now it was too late.
She wiped the tears from her cheeks, then rummaged through her purse, quickly grabbing her driver’s license and proof of insurance.
Carmen glanced out the side mirror at the brown-skinned man with close-cropped black hair as he climbed out of the squad car. He looked at her license plate, then spoke into a radio attached to the shoulder of his shirt. Tall and muscular, he projected an air of confidence.
“What’s taking so long?” she wondered aloud. If he didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t be able to sneak into the church and grab a seat in the back pew. Her stomach clenched at the thought of being spotted by her father. He’d made it clear when he’d thrown her out of the house seven years ago that he no longer considered her his daughter. She’d gotten into too much trouble and had embarrassed him one too many times. The accident had been the last straw. Although she doubted he would risk tarnishing his sterling reputation by personally kicking her out, he wouldn’t hesitate to have someone else escort her from the funeral. But she wouldn’t let him prevent her from saying goodbye this time.
She stifled the urge to lay on the horn, settling for peering out the mirror once more. The officer must have noticed her looking, because he raised a finger in the universal wait-a-minute sign as he grabbed a pen from his pocket and wrote something on a pad. Swallowing her frustration, she resigned herself to losing even more time. The last thing she wanted was to irritate the police. Her one and only run-in with the law when she was eighteen was more than enough to last her a lifetime.
“License, please.”
His stealth startled her and she jumped, tossing a quick look at him. She quickly passed the requested ID card out the window, then concentrated on slowing her breathing. Seeming guilty was never good.
“Sunglasses,” he added, taking the license into his large hand.
She blinked. “Sorry?”
“Please remove your sunglasses.”
She quickly complied, folding the glasses and placing them on the dashboard.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the officer asked, studying her face. She looked back at him, but his rugged face, square jaw and dark eyes weren’t familiar. She didn’t expect him to recognize her, either. She didn’t look anything like she did when she left town seven years ago.
“No.” She looked away from his probing eyes to focus on his uniform, searching his broad chest for a name tag. Her heart stopped when she realized he wasn’t wearing an officer’s uniform. She’d been stopped by the chief of police. Of course, he wasn’t old, humorless, overweight Dale Muldoon, who’d been chief seven years ago. Thank goodness. He’d been firmly in her father’s pocket and wouldn’t make a move without clearing it with Charles Shields first. She just hoped this chief wasn’t in her father’s pocket, too.
* * *
Trenton Knight looked at the young woman. “Speeding. You were doing forty in a thirty-five-mile-per-hour zone. There’s a grade school two blocks from here. Plenty of children cross this road every day.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was going over the limit.”
“We take speeding very seriously.”
“Sorry,” she repeated.
Trent nodded. She sounded sincere, but
a little bit distracted, as well. Something about her was definitely off. He looked at her more carefully. Young, with flawless golden-brown skin and high cheekbones, she was model beautiful. Her coffee-brown eyes were red-rimmed. Her full bottom lip trembled. He didn’t smell alcohol, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t impaired.
He tucked her license into his breast pocket and backed away from the door. “Step out of the car please, ma’am.”
Her eyes widened and she blinked. “What? Why? Can’t you please just give me the ticket and let me go?”
The desperation in her voice and the sudden panic in her eyes convinced Trent he needed to take a closer look at her. “Please step out of the vehicle.”
The woman sighed, opened the door and stepped out of the car. Standing ramrod straight, her small hands clutched in front of her, she stared at him as if awaiting further instructions. She was smaller than she’d appeared inside the vehicle, barely reaching his shoulder. She was dressed more conservatively than he’d expected, as well. The wind blew her shoulder-length hair into her eyes, and she pushed it behind her ear with a delicate hand.
She was wearing a black silk tank and a long black skirt that swirled around her ankles, nearly touching her shiny black sandals. He glanced inside the car. A black jacket was hanging on the hook behind the driver’s door.
He put the clues together easily. She wasn’t impaired. Her eyes were red from crying. Even now she was struggling to keep the tears in check. She was mourning the loss of a loved one. He knew that agony all too well. He still grieved his wife’s loss and always would.
She looked at him, her brown eyes wary. “Do you need anything else from me, Chief?”
“No.” Not now that he knew she was suffering.
“Then may I please go? I’m on my way to a funeral,” she said, confirming his conclusion. “If I don’t leave soon, it’ll be too late.” She turned her head slightly as if trying to hide the fact that she was crying. She slid a finger under her eye before turning back to him. “I promise to do the speed limit all the way. And I’ll pay my ticket before I leave town. I swear.”
Her slightly husky voice broke on the last word. Despite his hard-and-fast rule that every speeder got a ticket, he couldn’t give one to her. Not today, when she was so obviously heartbroken. Even he wasn’t that merciless.
“I’m not going to give you a ticket this time. Just a warning to slow down. Your family wouldn’t want the next funeral to be yours.”
“Thank you.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out her driver’s license, glancing at the name. His heart stopped.
Carmen Shields. Carmen Shields! The woman responsible for his wife’s death. She might not have been driving the night of the crash, but she’d been in the car and hadn’t kept her friend from driving drunk.
He looked at her outstretched hand and then back at her face. He was surprised he hadn’t recognized her. True, she looked nothing like the run-amok teenager whose face was forever emblazoned in his memory. That girl’s hair had usually been a tangle of waves and curls that hung to the middle of her back, not smooth as silk and barely brushing her slight shoulders. And she’d always worn large earrings, not tiny pearls. The polite, respectful woman standing in front of him was definitely different from the rude and belligerent teen she’d been. But still, because of this woman, he’d lost his precious Anna.
“Carmen Shields. I should have recognized you.”
The sympathy he’d felt a moment ago vanished, replaced by fury as the night of the accident came rushing back to him.
Anna had wanted chocolate ice cream for dessert. He’d promised to pick some up after work, but he’d gotten busy and forgotten. She’d kissed his cheek and hopped in the car for a quick trip to the store. An hour later he’d gotten the call. Now, as he stood here by the side of the road, his vision blurred and his stomach churned with guilt. If only he’d remembered that stupid ice cream, his beloved Anna would never have been on that road.
“You have me at a disadvantage, Chief. I don’t know who you are. When I lived here, Dale Muldoon was the chief.”
Trent fisted his hands. Dale had helped rush the inquest, something Trent would never forgive him for. That was the reason Trent had challenged him for the position of chief of police.
“Dale retired three years ago.”
“Okay.” She stood there, hand still outstretched, waiting for him to drop her license.
“My name is Trenton Knight.”
She didn’t so much as blink in recognition. The name meant nothing to her.
“Anna Knight was my wife.”
Still no response. There was no change at all in Carmen Shields’s expression. He might as well have been speaking Greek. Had she completely forgotten the identity of the woman killed in the accident? Did the loss of life matter so little to her that she couldn’t be bothered to remember Anna’s name?
“She was killed seven years ago when an SUV driven by an intoxicated teenager ran a stop sign and plowed into her car. You were a passenger in that car.”
Carmen gasped, and he watched with grim satisfaction as the blood drained from her face. She staggered and placed a hand against her vehicle. “The woman in the other car died?”
“Yes. And our two daughters lost their mother.”
“I—I didn’t know.” She shook her head as if processing the information. “I didn’t know her name. No one would tell me anything.”
How could she not know Anna’s name or that she died? True, when Carmen had skipped town immediately following the inquest for the two teens from her vehicle who’d died in the accident, Anna was still fighting to live. But that was seven years ago. How could it be in all that time no one in the entire Shields family had felt Anna’s death was worth mentioning to her?
Anger surged through him and he spoke through gritted teeth. “She clung to life for nineteen days, fighting to live. Trying to stay with her family, who loved her. But her body had been battered too badly and she wasn’t strong enough to survive her injuries. She died in my arms.”
Carmen reached out her hands. He stiffened and stepped back. He wouldn’t be responsible for his actions if she touched him.
She paused and then folded her hands as if in prayer. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry for everything. If I could go back and change things, I would.”
“Your apology changes nothing.” He had half a mind to prolong this traffic stop and make her late for the funeral he now knew was for her mother. But he didn’t. Anna would never have approved of such a vengeful act. She’d been full of love and forgiveness, even for people who didn’t deserve it. He wouldn’t dishonor her memory by giving in to his hatred.
He dropped the license into Carmen’s hand. “Don’t speed while you’re in my town.” He strode away, determined to get away from her and the memories she awakened. But it was too late. Seeing her had ripped open the wound in his heart that had never completely healed.
Copyright © 2017 by Kathleen Gregory
ISBN-13: 9781488014031
Falling for the Rebound Bride
Copyright © 2017 by Karen Templeton-Berger
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