The Stolen Bride. Jacqueline Diamond

County has a couple of hundred dollars at most. Of course, there’s always my credit card.”

      “Card, singular?”

      “I told you, I’ve been living on my income,” she said. “I’m not sure when the next quarterly payment is due, but maybe I can get an advance.”

      “You could call this financial guy at home.”

      “I’m not that desperate,” Erin said. “I don’t think it’s right to force an employee to go into the office on his day off just to suit my convenience.”

      As he drove, Joseph reflected on the contradictions in her attitude. On the one hand, she saw herself as an owner with an obligation not to abuse her authority. On the other hand, she seemed to doubt her ability even to tap into her resources for a small advance. She owned a half interest in the Marshall Company, for heaven’s sake!

      Well, these decisions belonged to her, not him. What she needed from her old friend, he mused, was emotional support and physical protection.

      He knew he tempted fate by getting involved where no one except Erin wanted him, and he wasn’t entirely sure how she felt. Perversely, the prospect of defying the rest of the world appealed to him. If he ever stopped leaping before he looked, life could get awfully boring.

      “Well, if you still haven’t decided where to stay, I’m taking you to my house,” he said.

      Erin didn’t answer.

      “If that’s all right,” Joseph added.

      She gave him one of those sweet, enigmatic expressions that made him want to kiss her and poke her in the ribs at the same time.

      “Or I could drop you at the mall,” he said with mock solemnity. “Considering that you more or less own it.”

      “There’s a tempting thought. I could pitch a sleeping bag in the food court.” She made a face.

      “Well?”

      “I’d love to go to your place, but I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Erin said. “You worked hard to get where you are.” She might not know the details, but she obviously suspected the hurdles he’d had to leap to get hired on the force, not to mention making detective so quickly. After what had happened to his father, some people had been waiting for him to fail. They still were.

      “It’s only for the weekend.” Joseph negotiated the curving side streets toward Old Lake Highway, the most direct route into town. “It’s too isolated for you to stay there next week while I’m at work.”

      “Where exactly do you live?” she asked.

      “In the woods.”

      “You always said you wanted to be close to nature,” Erin recalled. “If I remember right, at one point you talked about becoming a forest ranger.”

      “I’m too stubborn for that,” Joseph said.

      “Too stubborn?” After a moment, Erin answered her own question. “You mean, if you left town, everybody would think you were running away.”

      “Exactly.”

      “You gave up your dream to prove a point?” she demanded.

      “I’m stubborn, but not that stubborn,” he said. “I like being a cop.”

      “You don’t have to convince me about being stubborn.”

      “I thought I was downright accommodating in the old days.” After all, he’d poured his earnings from a lawn-mowing job into movie tickets and hamburger dinners, not to mention a couple of tuxedo rentals that nearly broke his personal bank.

      “You were, except when we broke up,” she reminded him. “I wanted to talk things over. I wanted to give our friendship a chance. You insisted it was hopeless.”

      “Don’t remind me. The past is dead and buried, Erin. If you’re going to be staying with me, we have to agree on that.” He didn’t want things hitting too close to home.

      Just being around Erin made Joseph want things he shouldn’t. He’d long ago made his peace with the injustices of the past. He didn’t need a nest of stinging emotions stirred up again.

      “Okay,” she said after a long pause. “I agree. Under protest.”

      “Duly noted.”

      They fell into silence. During the eight-mile drive into town, the gentle rocking of the car, combined with her exhaustion, put Erin to sleep.

      A lock of her shoulder-length brown hair, crinkly where she’d brushed it out of its twist, floated in a draft. Joseph imagined how it would feel against his cheek, as silky as a whisper in the night.

      In the old days, he’d have slung his arm across the back of the seat and she’d have scooted close. It was ridiculous how natural it felt to be riding with her again, as if the intervening years had evaporated.

      He’d expected to fall in love with someone else by now. When one potential relationship after another failed to develop, he’d attributed it to the rigors of a policeman’s schedule and to the difficulty of trusting anyone.

      Maybe taking her home with him ran the risk of reigniting an old flame. But under the circumstances, what else could he do?

      He returned his attention to his driving. As they made their way through the heart of town, Joseph spotted a luxury sedan like the previous one, again lagging a few car lengths behind them. If it had followed them on the highway, he hadn’t noticed.

      He made a couple of turns, and the car disappeared. Gone, he hoped. Most likely a different vehicle.

      On Little Creek Lane, which wound through a grove close to his cabin, he caught sight of it again. He hadn’t imagined it; they were being followed.

      Erin’s eyes blinked open. “What’s wrong?”

      “I thought you were asleep.”

      “I was dozing. I felt the car speeding up.”

      “We’re being tailed again.” Before she could sit up, he added, “Stay low.” He didn’t expect the guy to start shooting, but you never knew.

      Erin obeyed. “Can you see who it is?”

      “Not yet.” Joseph considered his options. The other car hadn’t broken any laws, so he could hardly call dispatch. Normally, he’d pull into a public place such as a gas station, but there was only woodland on both sides and the road was too narrow for him to reverse course.

      Although he carried a gun, he didn’t want to risk a shoot-out in the middle of nowhere. While he hated to lead whoever was tailing them to his house, his property would offer cover and a chance for Erin to escape inside.

      The funny thing was, the vehicle seemed familiar. Not just because he’d seen it earlier today, either. That particular make, that beige paint—well, they were common enough. The only thing he could say for sure was that the figure behind the wheel didn’t appear as large as Chet.

      Maybe it was another resident. Although the houses were set far apart, including vacation cabins that frequently lay empty, it was possible the guy lived nearby. Maybe that was where Joseph had seen the car before.

      They passed one driveway, then another. The vehicle didn’t turn. Finally, the only one left was Joseph’s.

      “Looks like we’ve got a visitor.”

      “Can’t you call someone?” Erin kept low, as he’d instructed. “Cops can call 911, can’t they?”

      “Sure. Or I could use my radio. But I’ve been out conducting an investigation against the chief’s orders, and I’ve got a feeling whoever’s behind us wants to talk about it,” Joseph said. “I’m not real eager to bring in the rest of the department unless things get sticky.”

      “Okay,” Erin