~ Tall, Dark And Western ~

by

Kay LeGrand

The Corvette wasn’t new. But the dozen or more years that had passed since it was built had done nothing to diminish the provocative appeal of its timeless, fluid lines or the finish that gleamed with glassy perfection. It was a deep-red wonder designed for speed and rebellion. For seduction. Not at all the sort of personal vehicle she’d envisioned for a man like Nathan Ballard. She’d expected something more like the Jeep. Or maybe an enormous pickup truck with the inevitable gun rack in its rear window. Something in keeping with his outdoorsy, hat-and-holster cowboy image. But this?

Shaking off Nathan’s grip, she stepped forward and lay a damp, unsteady hand on the cool slope of fiberglass above the fat left-rear tire. This was not the car of a county Sheriff. It was the kind of rocket-powered bobsled rural Sheriffs were supposed to chase eternally--with no hope of ever catching up.

Overhead, the door mechanism hummed to life again. The heavy wooden door rumbled downward. The sound broke Bethany’s fascination, and she turned her head to stare at the Sheriff.

His lips twitched. He touched the car’s smoked glass roof panels with a possessive hand. He smiled at her. "I take it this isn’t what you expected, either."

The precise perfection of his teeth flashed white against sun-burnished skin. Bethany’s heart gave a single, convulsive jerk as a shock wave of thermonuclear energy radiated outward from her center to her arms and legs, her fingers and toes. She suspected he knew full well the impact of that smile and had planned for it. She was sure he meant to sweep her up in a stampede of raw, screaming power.

His power, or the car’s? It really didn’t matter. Every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation. Mesmerized, she stared into his incandescent brown eyes, trying to read them. To understand why, stalking gunmen or no stalking gunmen, Nathan Ballard had really brought her here.

"Bethany?" His voice rose on a note of concern. "Are you all right?"

As quickly as it had come, the wave of heat and energy deserted her. Bone-deep weariness returned and she felt the blood drain from her face. Staggering, she leaned her weight against the low sports car.

"You’re not all right." Nathan stepped forward and scooped her up into his arms.

"I’m so tired." And his arms were so firm. So steady. They were the only solid, reliable objects in a world of exhaustion, quicksand, and earthquakes. She let her head sag gratefully to his shoulder.

"It’s way past time for you to get some sleep."

Bethany’s arms found their way around his neck. Her fingers tangled themselves deep in thick chestnut hair above his collar and she pulled herself closer to him. She buried her face against the clean-scented warmth of his brilliant shirt front. "Where are you taking me?"

"Upstairs."

"Upstairs?" A sudden case of jitters seized her. Lifting her head, she peered anxiously at his face. "What are you going to do with me there?"

Laughing, he started up wide stairs near the center of the house. "I’m going to put you into my bed."

"Your bed?"

Nathan reached the top of the stairs. He turned right into a darkened room and deposited her on a bed that seemed a hundred miles wide.

"I’m worried about you." He leaned over to untie her sneakers and pull them from her feet. "You’re too tired. Like a light bulb getting ready to burn out. You’re flaring bright, using up energy you don’t have."

"Nathan, I..."

"Bethany." He placed one hand on either side of her shoulders and frowned down into her pinched, pale face. "You’re just a little thing. You’re not prepared to deal with something like this. You need sleep. You need protection. And I’m going to see you have both."

"Sleep?" She groaned, the sound very close to a sob of despair. "How can you expect me to ever sleep, when..."

"Sleep’s important. It’s vital. You’re going to need all the strength you can muster in the next few days. You’re going to have to be wide awake and alert for trouble. The only way to get that strength is to sleep now. While you’re safe. While you have the chance."

"I wish I could believe I’m really safe."

"You have to believe." He sat on the edge of the bed next to her and stroked her hair with a soothing hand. "You have to believe in me. And in yourself. You have to believe you’ll come out of this. Above all, you have to trust me to watch out for you."

"I want to, Nathan. I do. But I believe in Les and his pal, too. You didn’t hear the things they said. The way they said them. They meant every word. They’re going to do whatever they can to get rid of me. Any way they can."

"Then believe this, if you won’t believe anything else." His eyes were serious, his mouth a stern line in the dimly-lit, dusky room. "From now on anyone who wants to get to you will have to go through me first. As any of my deputies would be quick to tell you, that’s not an easy thing to do."

For the first time in the long, horrible evening that had begun the moment she’d spotted those misbegotten greenish lights among the ruins, Bethany allowed herself to hope. Nathan sounded so positive. So sure of himself.

Still, doubt lingered. A lifetime of habit clamored, insisting self-sufficiency was the only way. Some part of her heart, long hardened by lack of a father to watch out for her, by exposure to years of derision from a brother who had consistently refused to lend a hand in any situation he considered her fault, warned her that she had to protect herself. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not even the Sheriff of Crowe County himself.