The Lawman's Runaway Bride. Patricia Johns
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“Let me buy you a coffee at the diner,” Chance said. “It’s cold out here.” He met her gaze, at least. Lucy’s Diner was just down the street by the highway, walking distance from town hall.
“Alright,” she agreed.
Sadie had expected this to be difficult. When her grandmother told her that Mayor Scott needed an events planner, the timing was perfect—for her at least. At that point, she hadn’t realized that the event would be a commemorative ceremony for her ex-fiancé. That was uncomfortable, to say the least. Was she the right person for the job? Would Comfort Creek be angry or supportive? But the mayor assured her that he didn’t see a conflict of interest. He needed a qualified event planner, and he trusted her to have the right “feel” for the town.
When the mayor told her that she’d be working with Chance Morgan, she’d almost refused the job. She hadn’t spoken to anyone but her grandmother since she’d left town, and she’d prayed long and hard about the job offer. But home was calling to her, and she felt as if this was what God wanted her to do. Still, before Comfort Creek could be home in every sense, she had to face the people she’d hurt and make her apologies. She’d have to face Chance, and that knot of emotion he’d caused inside of her... It wouldn’t be easy, but when God pushed her forward into character growth, some pain was to be expected. She’d just hoped that God would have prepared some hearts before she arrived.
As they headed down the street, Sadie evaluated Chance out of the corner of her eye. He was still the same tall guy she remembered, but he looked stronger, somehow. Maybe he’d bulked up a little—could that be it? Or just a few years more life experience. He was police chief now—that was a considerable step up in his career. He’d been up for the position just before the wedding, so this shouldn’t be a surprise. But the years seemed to have aged him. There were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there before, and his sandy-blond hair was turning silver at the sides. But he was only thirty-eight—six years older than her. Stress, maybe? In every other way, he was the same old Chance—tall, fit, serious. They’d been close back then, but by the look in his eye now, all that was in the past.
“You really think you’re the one to plan a ceremony in Noah’s honor?” Chance asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“No, I think you are,” she countered. “But Mayor Scott says you’ve fought him every step of the way.”
“And that’s my prerogative. You didn’t even show up for the funeral.”
Sadie heard the resentment in his voice.
“I didn’t think it would be right to come to the funeral,” she replied. “After I left the way I did.”
“Maybe you were right.”
“I sent your parents a sympathy card, though.” She’d spent an hour standing in a card shop looking for the right sentiment. She’d been heartbroken, too, when she heard about Noah’s death. She’d loved him—even if marrying him would have been a mistake. The world had been a better place with Noah in it.
“I saw it.”
His tone was still wooden, and irritation simmered inside of her. What had he expected her to do? She wasn’t part of the family. She was probably the least favorite person of the Morgans in general. Showing up at the funeral would have been in bad taste—it would have drawn attention away from Noah and put her into the spotlight. But more than that, was she supposed to stay away indefinitely? Comfort Creek didn’t belong to Chance Morgan; he wasn’t the only one to have grown up here.
“Chance, it’s been five years.” She eyed him cautiously. “I’m sorry about the way I handled things, but marrying Noah wasn’t going to work. I should have figured it out sooner, but I didn’t. I couldn’t marry him.”
“Ending things would have been fine,” he retorted. “But you didn’t face him. You didn’t explain anything. You just walked out. We all showed up at the church, and I stood next to my brother at the front, waiting for you to come down the aisle. It was a full forty-five minutes before your grandmother arrived and told us you weren’t coming. Do you know what that did to him? Do you know what it’s like to get that kind of news in front of a church full of family and friends?”
Sadie felt that old swell of guilt—she’d lived with it every day since she’d run away from her wedding. She’d been dressed in that beaded gown, her veil already affixed to her updo. She’d been putting on her shoes, ready to go to the church when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and it all came crashing in on her. She couldn’t be Mrs. Noah Morgan. She’d thought that what she’d been feeling for her fiancé’s brother was a crush—something that would pass. Then, on that porch the night before, he’d admitted to having felt the same thing for her...
The right thing would have been to go down to the church and explain it in person, but she knew herself—she might have walked down that aisle anyhow, just to keep everyone happy, and she couldn’t risk that. So she’d changed into a pair of jeans, grabbed her suitcase that was already packed for a Caribbean honeymoon, and called a cab. Nana assured her that she’d explain.
“I’m sorry,” Sadie said. “But there was no kind or easy way to call off a wedding the morning it was supposed to happen. I made my peace with that a long time ago. At least I didn’t marry him and break his heart after two kids and a mortgage.”
Lucy’s Diner was located at the corner of Birch Street and the highway, an old brick building with a red roof and a large sculpture of a bull that stood between the highway traffic and the parking lot. Lucy’s Diner had been in that exact spot for the last sixty years, when Comfort Creek was nothing more than a gas station, a church and a grain elevator, and as they approached the front door, Sadie heaved a sigh. This was past the point of discomfort, and the last thing she wanted was to sit in a diner and rehash old hurts.
“Do you really want that coffee?” she asked as they stopped in front of the diner. “We could do this another time. No pressure.”
“Of course, there’s pressure,” he retorted. “We have to work together. We have a deadline.”
He was right about that. Chance pulled open the door and stepped back. What was with him and those perfect manners? He’d always been like this—proper, disciplined, always the cop. She sighed and walked into the warmth, then headed toward a booth in the back. He followed, accepting a couple of menus from the waitress on his way past.
Once they were settled with glasses of ice water in front of them and their coats piled beside them, Chance leaned forward in his chair.
“I have to ask this—” Chance swallowed. “Was it because of me? I was out of line that night on the porch. I shouldn’t have confused you like that. I should have—”
“Confused me?” Sadie shook her head. “You make me sound like a half-wit. I wasn’t confused or in a muddle, Chance.”
His face colored, but he’d hit a nerve there. That was a question she’d asked herself a hundred times since. Had she dumped Noah because of Chance? Was that moment of butterflies and tenderness enough to unhinge a five-year relationship with a good man?
“I just...” Her stomach had flipped. Her breath had caught. She’d stared up into Chance’s blue eyes and she’d felt weak in the knees—none of which she’d ever felt for Noah. But there was no way she could confess that to Chance.
“It wasn’t