chestnut-colored hair. “Let’s discuss this somewhere more private.”
Private was the last thing Belle wanted. Private meant being alone with Harlan and that conjured up all sorts of memories and uncomfortableness she’d prefer to avoid. But she was desperate and she didn’t have time to waste on foolish pride.
“Fine.” She followed him down the back hallway, away from prying eyes. If only she could pry her eyes away from the view of his jean-clad backside. The county sheriff strove for friendly casual and Harlan wore it well. The sound of his boots on the worn linoleum echoed against the walls, masking the thudding of her rapid heartbeat. Harlan swung open the heavy steel door and waited for Belle to exit first. She walked past him into the parking lot. Her bare shoulder brushed against his chest, causing her skin to prickle on contact. She inhaled sharply. Big mistake. The woodsy scent of his cologne transported her back to firelit nights snuggled up beside him. A time best forgotten.
“What’s this all about?” Harlan’s hat shaded his features from the midmorning sun, making him more difficult to read. His tan button-down uniform shirt stretched taut across his shoulders and biceps as he folded his arms. He stood wide-legged in front of her, bringing his six-foot-one-inch height closer to her five foot four. “I’m fairly confident I’m the last person you want to marry.”
That was the truth. She’d already stridden down that white-lined aisle only to watch him bolt for the church doors midceremony. There was nothing like the man of your dreams jilting you on your wedding day in front of the entire town. Belle shivered. It was close to eighty degrees in Saddle Ridge and her nerves were in overdrive. The past and the present were about to collide and she couldn’t put on the brakes. Not now. Not when her grandmother needed her most.
Belle leaned against a parked police SUV for support. “My grandmother’s Alzheimer’s causes her to regress more each day.” Saying the words aloud made the situation even more real. “She has no concept of the present, yesterday or even last week.”
“Belle. I’m sorry.” Harlan’s deep, rich voice soothed. “I’ve wanted to visit Trudy in the nursing home many times but I wasn’t sure I would be welcome.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.” Belle silently prayed for strength. “She believes we’re still getting married. There’s no convincing her otherwise. I even tried telling her we already were, but she’ll have none of it. She keeps asking for you and I’m hoping if she sees you, maybe we can tell her together that we’re eloping and it will put her mind at ease. I don’t know what else to do. In a week or two, she might regress further. I can’t promise she won’t ask for you again, but she’s growing more agitated each time she does and you’re not there.”
Harlan reached for her. His rough thumbs grazed the top of her hands. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
Belle pulled from his grasp. “Don’t do that.” She didn’t want to be comforted or touched...at least not by him. Her heart couldn’t take it. “This isn’t for me. It’s for my grandmother. I don’t want to be anywhere near you, but I will do whatever I must to make her last days comfortable, however many she has. And if that means pretending to marry you, then so be it. But I can’t do this without your cooperation.”
“I’ll do it.” Harlan checked his watch. “How about I meet you there at noon? Is Trudy still in the same place down the road?”
Belle nodded. The ease with which he agreed caught her off guard along with him knowing where her grandmother resided. Then again, their sleepy little town of Saddle Ridge in northwest Montana only had one nursing home, so it wasn’t too far of a stretch.
“Okay.” Belle tugged her keys from her bag, not wanting to be near him any longer than necessary. “I guess that’s it then. I’ll see you later. And—um—thank you.” She hadn’t wanted to make eye contact again but felt the inexplicable need to do so. The second she did, she regretted it and turned to leave.
“Belle, before you go—”
She spun to face him. “Don’t you dare say I’m sorry one more time. I’ve heard eight years of sorry every time I see you, which is why I do everything in my power to avoid you.” She gripped her keys tighter. She needed Harlan’s help and yelling at him in the police station parking lot was a surefire way to get him to back out of their agreement. “Can we please do this without dredging up the past?”
“You’re asking me to pretend to still be your fiancé on the eve of what should have been our eighth wedding anniversary. Kind of impossible, don’t you think?”
Belle’s heart hammered against her rib cage. “You remember?”
“August 1. Of course I remember.” Harlan closed the distance between them. “You’ve never let me explain why I left that day.”
“Left? Ha! You tore out of that church like your tuxedo was on fire. There’s nothing to say. Nothing to rehash. Please.”
“Okay.” Harlan held up his hands. “I’ll meet you at the nursing home at noon.”
Belle headed to her pickup, wishing she’d worn something other than flip-flops. They didn’t make for a graceful exit when you’re trying to walk away quickly. Walk? Forget that! She’d rather run just like he did. If her grandmother hadn’t still lived in Saddle Ridge, she would have fled this godforsaken town long ago and never come back.
She hopped up into her battered old truck and jammed the key in the ignition, praying it would start. Money was tight since she’d had to sell her grandmother’s house to pay for the nursing home. She had everything budgeted and there wasn’t one extra cent to dump into the thirty-two-year-old Chevy. Ol’ Red was loud, but she turned over. Belle stepped on the clutch and shifted into first, easing the truck onto Main Street. She arrived at the nursing home a few minutes later. Her boss, Dr. Lydia Presley, had been gracious enough to give her the day off. Working as a large-animal veterinarian assistant meant she wasn’t always needed during the day. Nights were a different story. When Lydia was on call, Belle was, too.
“Miss Belle, we didn’t expect to see you back so soon.” Nurse Myra greeted her as she entered her grandmother’s room. “Trudy fell asleep soon after you left.”
“I wanted to check in on her once more.” Belle lowered herself into the chair across from her grandmother. The woman who’d always been so active and full of life lay frail and motionless. The hospital bed and large safety rails dwarfed her body. Her once round cheeks and flawless complexion were sallow and gaunt. “After this morning, I’m not sure if my being here helps or upsets her.”
Trudy stirred and Myra brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. This was one time Belle was thankful she lived in a small town. Everyone in the nursing home knew her and her grandmother. She’d heard horror stories about the poor treatment of the elderly in some facilities. While she hoped those incidents were rare, she didn’t have any concerns when it came to her grandmother’s care. Trudy used to be Myra’s Sunday school teacher, as she had been to quite a few other nursing home employees.
Her grandmother was only sixty-five and had battled Alzheimer’s for the past five years. Early onset of the disease was uncommon and only accounted for 5 to 10 percent of all cases. Belle was well schooled in life-isn’t-fair. That didn’t stop her from asking, “Why Trudy?” every single day. Her grandmother was the only family she had. Her mother had given birth to her at age eighteen and took off when Belle was six. Took off as in she left Belle alone in a hotel room in Texas, never to return. At least her so-called mother had possessed the good sense to scrawl Trudy’s phone number on her left arm so the police had someone to call. Now she was losing the only person she’d ever loved, except for Harlan, and he’d stopped mattering to her a long time ago.
“Were you able to find Harlan?” Myra asked.
“How did you know?” Maybe the nursing home staff knew her better than she realized.
“I’d like to say it was a lucky guess, but Gail saw your truck at the police station on her way in.”