Tara Quinn - The Sheriff of Shelter Valley

Beth smiled, praying he couldn’t see the trembling of her lips. “So you’re used to being left here with Katie every Sunday?” she asked. Keep talking, don’t think. Don’t envision a vacant future, or, maybe worse, one that isn’t vacant, only intolerable.

“Nah, Grandma Neilson comes over about half the time she’s asked, and then there’s the occasional Sunday when no crisis arises.”

His words were something to focus on. Something to take her thoughts away from the fact that her past held a threat so great she’d taken her baby and run.

“But I’m used to time alone with Katie,” Greg continued lazily. “She’s a big part of my life.”

“Have you ever thought about having kids of your own?”

Beth’s gaze shot down to Ryan as soon as she heard her own words. She’d broken a major Beth Allen rule. Never ask personal questions. Doing so was often taken as an invitation by the recipient to ask questions, too.

Damn. Give her a good meal, a comfortable chair and she lost all sense of herself. Which was scary when one didn’t have much of that to begin with. When one was making things up as one went along…

Lifting an ankle to his knee, Greg slouched down farther. He looked more like a college kid than the head of an entire law enforcement organization. “I used to think I’d have a whole houseful of kids by now,” he said. “You’ve probably noticed that Shelter Valley families tend to be rather large. You don’t have to live here long to figure that out.”

His grin was sardonic, half deprecating, half affectionate, as he spoke about the people he protected day in and day out.

“Especially if you spend any time at Little Spirits,” Beth said, his easy tone allowing her to continue a conversation she’d meant to shut down. “It seems like everyone in Shelter Valley is related.”

“Either by blood or by a closeness of the heart,” Greg agreed. He sounded proud of the fact. “Everyone in Shelter Valley has family of one sort or another.”

It was the perfect opportunity to ask why he didn’t have that houseful of kids he’d envisioned. She badly wanted to know.

Only the very real threats she lived with every second of her life kept her silent. The threat of being found out. And of never finding out. Never learning who she was. What she was hiding from.

And why she hadn’t been strong enough to solve her problems rather than run from them.

The threat that he might ask questions she couldn’t answer. Or find answers she didn’t want him to have.

“Did you and your husband plan to have more children?”

Blank. That was the only way to describe the mental picture his question elicited. But there was nothing blank about the instant panic that accompanied the emptiness. As the dull red haze blotted out her peripheral vision—a reaction she’d long since recognized as her body’s danger signal—Beth again looked down at her son.

She could do this, get through whatever life required, for Ryan. Without a single memory, she knew he was the reason she’d run. And she’d keep running forever, from her memory, her needs, her heart, if that was what it took to keep him safe.

“I’m perfectly happy with Ryan,” she said.

“So you’d planned for him to be an only child?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Did your husband spend a lot of time with the boy?”

I don’t know! “What’s with the inquisition, Sheriff?” Guided by survival instincts, she stared at him, chin raised, as she offered the challenge.

And then turned quickly away. Those dark green eyes scared her with their intensity. When he looked at her, Greg Richards saw more than she could allow. She didn’t know how or why; she only knew it had to stop.

“I’m just trying to get to know you, Beth, but for some reason you make that very difficult. I can’t help wondering why.”

Because if she told him the smallest thing—truth or lie—he’d be able to find out more. Because she couldn’t afford to trust. Not even him. No matter what her heart said.

The red haze was back. “I notice you didn’t answer my earlier question about your own empty house,” she said, making a quick amendment to Beth Allen’s Rules of Survival. Avoiding personal questions was no longer the issue. Sidetracking him was.

“A couple of things happened to change my plans.”

“What things?” The fact that she really wanted to know made the query a dangerous one. But she had to keep him talking—about him. And not her. It wouldn’t be much longer before Bonnie and Keith returned. “You haven’t met the right woman?”

It was a common enough excuse.

“I met her.”

Oh. Beth frowned. “Was she from Shelter Valley?” Had the woman died? Why hadn’t Bonnie told her?

“Born and raised,” Greg said, his thumb tapping a rhythm on the couch beside him. “Shelby and I met in grade school. Dated all through high school. I think I always knew I’d marry her someday.”

“What happened?” And why was she taking this so personally?

“I asked her to marry me, but I wanted to wait until after I graduated from Montford and the police academy.”

Beth didn’t think she’d have agreed to wait—and was bothered by that thought. Did it mean she was impatient by nature? She certainly hadn’t had any indication of that up to this point. But she’d been so busy surviving, self-discovery hadn’t been much of an option.

As life in Shelter Valley grew more routine, things were starting to slip out from her hidden past, her hidden mind. She wanted that so badly.

And yet…she didn’t want it at all.

Ignorance allowed her to stay safe in Shelter Valley and raise her son.

Of course, maybe the reason she wouldn’t have agreed to wait had nothing to do with her; maybe it was just because of Greg. She couldn’t imagine having him in love with her and agreeing to wait a week, let alone years.

“During my last year of college, Shelby went to Los Angeles to visit a girl who’d lived with her grandparents in Shelter Valley during our senior year in high school. Shelby met some guy in California and was married within a month.”

“What?” Beth sat forward, completely forgetting that Ryan was sound asleep. Disturbed, the child lifted his head, eyes unfocused as he opened them. He fussed for a second and then settled against her and went back to sleep.

“She wanted out of Shelter Valley. Didn’t want to be trapped in this small town, raising a bunch of kids. She just hadn’t bothered to tell me that.”

“She was an idiot.” The words weren’t conciliatory or polite. Beth honestly couldn’t think of any dream better than a real home in this town, shared with a loving man. One who’d love Ryan, teach him the things a son should know. One who’d give her another baby or two…

But was it the real Beth thinking these thoughts? Or were they simply the desperate longings of a lost woman on the run?

“I like to think so,” Greg said, grinning at her. “Anyway,” he added, growing more serious, “that kind of put a kink in my plans for home and family.”

The softly spoken words lured her further into the dangerous conversation.

“That must’ve been at least ten years ago,” she said. “I can’t believe there haven’t been opportunities since then.”

“I spent the past ten years taking care of my father.”

“Bonnie told me,” Beth said, compassion welling up so strongly she wasn’t sure what to do with it. “I’m so sorry.”

Tight-lipped, Greg didn’t say anything. Beth could almost feel his frustration…and pain.

Which was ridiculous. She barely knew this man.

She adjusted Ryan, moving him to her other shoulder. His sweaty hair had left a damp spot where his head had lain.