The Sheriff Catches a Bride by Cora Seton

Author:Cora Seton [Cora Seton]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Romance, Cowboys, Contemporary, Adult
ISBN: 1927036534
Amazon: B00HT90NWA
Barnesnoble: B00HT90NWA
Goodreads: 20423452
Publisher: Cora Seton
Published: 2014-01-08T00:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Ten

After much discussion with a ticket agent at the train station and the helpful young couple who stood in line behind her, Fila realized she now needed to turn to a different form of transportation. She duly found herself several hours later ensconced in the comfortable seat of a Greyhound bus heading west for Montana via Wisconsin and Minnesota. She had one transfer in Minneapolis, but she’d been assured that would be a piece of cake. The ride would take almost exactly twenty-four hours. Time to catch up on some sleep.

She woke up when a young woman sat in the empty seat beside her and Fila fought down the panic that threatened to overwhelm her again.

“What station is this?” she asked, jerking upright in her seat.

“Tomah.”

Fila checked her ticket. Still three hours to go until the transfer in Minneapolis. She settled back in her seat, but sleep eluded her again. Where were Wahid and the others now? Were they still searching for her in New York City, or had they somehow figured out where she’d gone?

She shivered and peeked over to see what her seatmate was doing. The young woman had withdrawn a tablet from her purse and held it on her lap. Fila had seen them everywhere since she landed in New York and she longed to hold one, too. To explore what it could do. The woman was watching a movie, with earbuds in her ears, so Fila couldn’t hear what the actors said. She wished she had a movie to watch. Maybe then the time wouldn’t crawl by so slowly.

As if hearing her thoughts, the woman glanced her way. She smiled, manipulated something on her tablet, paused the movie and removed her earbuds.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Catherine.”

“Fila.” Too late she remembered she was supposed to say Karen. Well, what were the chances of Wahid or the others meeting this Midwestern girl and actually speaking to her?

“Where you headed?”

“Montana. How about you?”

“Fargo, North Dakota,” Catherine said. “I go to college there. Is Montana your home?”

“It’s going to be,” Fila said. A grin twitched the corners of her mouth. For the first time she believed it.

“I love Montana,” Catherine confided. “I want to move there when I’m done with school.” She looked Fila up and down. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” Fila said. Ancient in Afghani years—much too old to be unmarried—but just a child here in the United States.

“Me, too,” Catherine said happily. “I’m in my senior year. What about you?”

“I haven’t been able to go to college yet.”

“Oh.” Catherine seemed confused. “Where are you from? You have an accent I can’t place.”

Fila bit her lip. She wanted to be truthful with this bright, young girl, but she couldn’t afford to leave a trail for the men to find.

“I’m from Syria,” she said, figuring no American could tell the difference. She relaxed when Catherine took her answer on faith.

“Syria,” she said. “Is that near Greece?”

On Saturday morning, Cab stood in the foyer of Carl’s house, ready to head into town to grab some breakfast at Linda’s Diner, when his phone rang.

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