
The Sheriff's Valentine
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Amy Vastine
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PROLOGUE
HEART RACING, SIXTEEN-YEAR-OLD Benjamin Harper slid into the passenger’s seat of his dad’s cherry red 1970 Dodge Chevelle. His dad’s prized possession. His pride and joy. Every weekend, the man religiously pulled it out of the garage and sat in it. He didn’t drive it. He just sat at the wheel or polished it but mostly simply admired it.
“Buckle up, Harper,” Shelby said, readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. “This is going to be one heck of a ride.”
“Swear to me that we will put this car back in my garage without a scratch on it,” he begged as he clicked the seat belt into place. Shelby just smirked as she revved the engine. It was the opposite of reassuring. “I’m serious, Shelby. If my dad finds out we took this car, we’re dead.”
“If you don’t want to do this, tell me now because once I put this baby in Drive, no one is going to stop me until we run out of road.”
It was Valentine’s Day, and in Goodfield, Georgia, Valentine’s Day was a big deal. As soon as Christmas ended, the whole town’s focus shifted to the holiday dedicated to love and romance. Ben always thought it was sort of a lame holiday until Shelby moved in with Mrs. Wallace next door. Today was the anniversary of her arrival in Goodfield.
If he was honest, Ben had fallen in love with Shelby the moment he saw her. He’d spent the last four years convincing her to be his friend, which he felt he had accomplished. They were inseparable most days. Ben had finally worked up the courage to tell her how he really felt, to confess he didn’t want to be just friends anymore.
At first, he considered giving her flowers or maybe a bracelet with a heart charm, but Ben knew better than to waste his money on that kind of stuff. The things other girls thought were sweet or romantic didn’t impress Shelby. He needed to be more creative than that.
Shelby loved cars and speed. She loved breaking the rules. She loved taking risks and the thrill of a good chase. That was why he was sitting in his dad’s newly renovated classic car on a deserted back road. Ben had hoped this gesture would make her realize that he was the guy who would do anything for her. He wouldn’t be able to use words like girlfriend or boyfriend. She wouldn’t like those labels, but maybe she wouldn’t mind letting him kiss her, because all he ever thought about these days was kissing her.
Ben had been chasing after Shelby since the day they met. He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she’d slow down so he could catch her. What would it be like to hold her hand? He wouldn’t know until he was honest with Shelby about how he felt. He was definitely in love with her.
Shelby pulled her gaze from the wide-open road ahead of them. With her brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, she turned those emerald green eyes on him. “What’s it going to be, Harper? Are we doing this or not?”
“You know I’ve never been able to say no to you. Why would I start now?” He braced himself. “Show me what this thing’s got.”
The smile that broke across her face was worth all the fear he felt the second she put that car in Drive and slammed down on the gas. Ben’s body pressed hard against the seat from the force of the acceleration. Shelby was in her glory.
Out the window, the world was flying by at a speed Ben had never experienced before. Everything was a blur as they flew down the road, a mix of colors with no definite shape. Ben kept his eyes forward. The two black stripes on the hood matched the color of the asphalt road ahead.
Shelby shifted gears again. “Do you feel that?” she asked. “I heard your dad tell Mr. Klobucher this thing pushes 675 horsepower thanks to the engine rebuild he did two years ago. Why have we never taken this baby for a drive before? This thing is a monster!”
Ben knew she had more experience driving than most kids their age. She had taken Maggie’s car for a joyride more than a couple times last summer even though she had only turned sixteen last month. The Chevelle was way different than Miss Maggie’s car. If his dad found out they took his car out, licensed or not, Ben was a dead man.
He glanced at the speedometer, which said she was already pushing ninety-five miles an hour. He would have been more afraid if her smile wasn’t so big. Being the one who did that, who made Shelby Young beyond happy, meant everything to him. Emotions were something she usually kept contained. She was the best at acting like she didn’t care. He knew that was a defense mechanism so people couldn’t use her feelings against her.
They were coming up fast on a tractor. On the other side of the road was a 16-wheeler. How did the road go from deserted to crowded all at once? Just as he had started to relax, his anxiety spiked again. Surely, Shelby would slow down until the truck passed.
“Hang on, Harper. This is going to be close.”
Before he could scream at her to slow down, Shelby shifted gears, pushed on the gas and pulled into the left lane to pass the tractor. Ben could only watch in horror as the truck came barreling toward them. They were going to die. He was about to be splattered all over this rural highway.
As he braced for impact, Shelby slid past the tractor and slipped back into the right-hand lane allowing the truck to fly by, the horn still blaring in warning. Ben’s heart had stopped beating. His life had definitely flashed before his eyes. He had to be dead. There was no way they had made it.
Shelby put her hand on his knee and he was very aware of being alive. “Holy moly, Harper! Did you see that? That was...amazing! This car is incredible!”
“Pull over, Shelby.”
“What?”
“Pull. Over.”
“Oh come on, Harper. That was a little scary, but I had everything under control.”
“Pull over right now!” Ben wasn’t a yeller. He didn’t lose his cool or raise his voice. He fancied himself one of the most easygoing people on the planet. That was probably the only reason Shelby did as he said.
When the car came to a complete stop, Ben opened the door. He climbed out, needing to have both feet on the ground and in control of how fast or slow his body was moving. He felt like he was about to throw up.
“Are you okay?” Shelby asked, coming around to his side of the car. She actually sounded concerned.
“No, Shelby. I’m not okay. You almost got us killed back there!”
“No, I didn’t,” she argued. Her nose scrunched up like he had accused her of something ridiculous. “I had everything under control. I knew I could make it and I did.”
Ben laced his fingers behind his head and tried to take some deep breaths like he did after running sprints at the end of basketball practice. When he finally caught his breath, he dropped his hands to his sides.
“All I wanted to do was make you happy. I wanted to give you something no one else could give you for Valentine’s Day. It couldn’t be boring like a box of chocolates or a dumb charm bracelet. A ride in my dad’s car was perfect. Only I didn’t expect you to try to get us run over by a semitruck!”
There was a definite crease between her eyebrows. “Driving your dad’s car was my Valentine’s Day gift?”
Ben should have known she wouldn’t have made the connection.
“Forget it. We need to go home.” He stalked over to the driver’s side. She was not driving this car for another second.
“You’ve got to chill out, Harper. You’re wound so tight, one day you’re going to snap.”
He was about to snap, but it wasn’t because he wasn’t “chill” enough. The only reason he was going to lose it was because she was out of control.
“Sometimes I have myself convinced that no one gets you like I do. Other times, especially when you go out of your way to give me a heart attack, I feel like I don’t know you at all.”
“What is that supposed to mean? Since when is being willing to take a risk not who I am?”
“This wasn’t taking some meaningless risk. This was putting your life and my life on the line like that for...what? A stupid thrill?”
Shelby stared hard at the ground, unable to look him in the eye as he finally set her straight. He waited for her to say something. Anything to explain herself. At least offer an apology for being so reckless. When she had nothing to say, he felt completely defeated.
“I love you, Shelby, but I guess you don’t care if I live or die.”
Her head snapped up and her eyes locked on his. “Excuse me?”
“It’s obvious that you don’t care about me.”
“Not that part. Did you just say you love me?”
Ben scrubbed his face with his hand. That wasn’t exactly how he planned to tell her he was in love with her. It kind of annoyed him that she was somehow that surprised. Didn’t he spend every moment of free time with her? Wasn’t she the one he went to first when he had good news or bad news? She had to have noticed the way he looked at her because sometimes he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
“Come on, Shelby. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed. The point is you obviously don’t feel the same.”
She had almost killed him and clearly felt no remorse about it either. She thought it was “amazing” to put their lives in danger like that. Ben had to face the facts: there was never going to be more between him and Shelby than this.
“A long time? Like how long?” she asked, moving slowly in his direction.
“I’m pretty sure that doesn’t matter.”
She gently bit down on her bottom lip and nodded. “It kinda does.”
“If you don’t care about me, why would it matter if I’ve been in love with you for four years or four minutes?”
Shelby stood in front of him now. She was so close their bodies were almost touching. His breath hitched and his heart began to race again.
“I would never let anything happen to you, Ben.” She placed her hand on his cheek. Her thumb brushed his cheekbone ever so softly. “You’re probably the only one I truly care about in this whole stupid world. I never imagined someone like you could love someone like me. Something that good doesn’t happen in my world.”
It wasn’t “I love you,” but Shelby had never been someone who used those words to describe her feelings about anything. Ben felt a flutter in his stomach. She didn’t tell him she loved him, but she did push up on her tiptoes and kiss him.
Ben’s heart exploded right there on the side of the road. He could feel the joy spread through his body like a wildfire in a dry forest. Shelby didn’t need to say those three words. He felt them. It was the best Valentine’s Day ever.
SHELBY YOUNG WASN’T sure which was louder—the sound of her heart beating like a drum inside her chest or the scraping noise the old wood-framed windowpane had made when she pushed it open. Everything sounded so much noisier at night, from the creak of the bedsprings when she stepped on her mattress for a boost to the thud of her backpack hitting the ground outside. It all seemed capable of waking the dead.
Not that Shelby was worried about the dead; she was much more concerned about the living. Maggie Wallace might have been old, but she was definitely very much alive. Thankfully, as long as Shelby used the window in her room instead of the front door, Maggie wouldn’t hear a thing.
The window in the Harpers’ house directly across from Shelby’s was closed. The room was dark. No one was sleeping in that room tonight. Ben was still in the hospital. Maggie swore that she’d heard from his mom that he would make a full recovery. Still, Shelby worried.
The winds off the lake picked up and blew between the two houses. There were curtains that hung inside that other window, bright red with a black stripe at the bottom. The Georgia Bulldogs had been Ben’s obsession since he was a toddler. If he really did make a full recovery, he could go to school in Athens in the fall. There was nothing holding him back once Shelby left town.
She placed the folded up piece of notebook paper with Maggie’s name scrawled across it on her pillow and scanned the moonlit room one more time for anything she might want to take with her. Her gaze fell on the photograph Mrs. Harper had given her as a birthday gift in January. It was of her and Ben sitting on the dock last summer. Shelby’s head rested on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist. It was the best gift anyone had ever given her. She shoved it into her duffel bag before climbing out the window and closing it behind her.
There were no signs of life at the Harpers’. Mrs. Harper had been staying at the hospital with Ben while his dad came home at night to be with Nicky, Ben’s little brother. Mr. Harper had made it clear the other day that there was no place for her in Ben’s life anymore. She really couldn’t disagree. She pulled another folded piece of notebook paper from her back pocket and ran a finger over his name.
Ben.
Her first friend. Her first boyfriend. Her first love. Her first heartbreak. She had no one to blame for the last one except herself. She had been behind the wheel of his dad’s Chevelle on prom night and hit a deer going too fast. Ben had been ejected and was lucky to be alive. The sooner she got out of Goodfield, the better for him.
She folded the goodbye note again, making it square instead of a rectangle. She had written and rewritten it a dozen times. There were so many things she wanted to tell him and so many more she couldn’t. She took a step toward his window. He always went to the window in the morning. Always waited for her to show her face. Always reminded her to smile. Good morning, Trouble, he’d say.
Trouble was his nickname for her, a name she’d happily lived up to until today. The note would be the only thing to greet him when he returned home, though. He’d have no more trouble in his life after tonight. It was better that way.
Shelby tried to steady her racing heart as she got closer to the window. Hopefully he’d see why she had to go. He’d understand.
Someday.
Probably.
Maybe not.
She held the note against her chest. She thought about all the times he had told her he loved her. How he had made promises to never leave her behind. It was going to be them against the world. He thought he could protect her from a world that always managed to do her wrong. Little did he know he really needed to protect himself from her.
She shoved the note back in her pocket. It was pointless to leave him nothing but a bunch of excuses and apologies. Better to leave without saying goodbye. He would need a clean break.
Shelby heaved her backpack over her shoulder and resisted the temptation to steal one more glance at Ben’s window. There was no more looking back, only forward.













































