by Lori Wilde
She supposed he was right. Dugg’s citation pad had stayed in his pocket on this particular visit. If she started arguing with him now, he’d surely charge them with some infraction—real or imagined—that he could think of on the spot.
Colton turned to go inside and paused at the door to the building that served as a combination camp store and recreation room.
“We’ll mention to Steven about Mrs. Turner’s missing tools, but I’m certain he doesn’t know anything about them.” Holding the door for April, he added, more for Dugg’s ears than hers, “There’s too much work to do for us to be standing around out here.”
Without so much as a word of goodbye, he ushered her inside and followed with a firm click of the door. To their surprise, the bell above the door tinkled again as it swung open and their nemesis stepped inside.
Clyde, their part-time employee, wheeled his chair out from the aisle where he’d been stocking pool toys in preparation for the summer guests. When he saw who was with them, he reversed the direction of his wheelchair.
“Is there something else?” Colton delivered the words more as a statement of dismissal than a question.
The deputy paced down the aisle where Clyde was now loading shelves with plastic snorkels and inflatable pool toys. He examined the procedure as if he were about to give the elderly gentleman a performance review.
Turning back to Colton, he asked, “Got any cold drinks?”
Colton’s hat brim nodded toward the refrigerated compartment along the back wall where large red lettering above it spelled out COLD DRINKS.
The deputy went to the cooler, retrieved an orange soda, and downed half of it before he reached into his pocket to pay for it. He was headed toward the cash register when he abruptly stopped, peered through the refrigerator’s glass doors, and studied the neat rows of bottles, cans, and cartons. The pink-faced man grinned as if he’d single-handedly tracked and apprehended one of America’s most wanted criminals.
Alexander Dugg licked his lips and hitched his breeches a little higher.
“What do we have here?” Dugg asked, reaching once again into the cooler.
April’s stomach felt as though it hit the floor. It was clear Colton had also seen the can of beer in Dugg’s hand.
From Dugg’s smug smile, April supposed he was picturing the headline: Deputy Busts Campground Owners for Illegal Alcohol Sales. Perhaps he even imagined that Lisa LaQuinta, the TV news reporter, would interview him. If April knew Dugg as well as she thought, he was probably making a mental note to take his uniform to the cleaners for the occasion. And he’d ask for extra starch. She wouldn’t be surprised if he thought such publicity would give him a shot at the sheriff’s job in the next election.
The deputy sauntered to the front of the building and placed the can on the counter in front of April. “How much do you charge for this?”
“We don’t,” April said. Remembering the deputy’s eagerness to achieve his self-made quota each weekend, she forced herself to speak with as much caution as she could muster. “We don’t sell alcohol here.”
“Coulda fooled me.” Dugg turned the can over to display the price tag. “Let me see your liquor license.”
When Colton stepped forward, Dugg touched the gun at his side as if to reassure himself it was still there.
Apparently noticing the deputy’s find, Clyde rolled his chair toward them and cleared his throat to say something. The expression of guilt on his face made him look, despite his seventy-plus years, like a small boy holding a baseball bat near a broken window.
She should have known. Clyde had often remarked that he slept better at night after “downing a cold one.” But she didn’t realize he’d been keeping those beers in the camp store’s cooler.
Before he could speak, however, Colton silenced him with a slight shake of the head. “That’s mine,” he told Dugg. “It’s for personal use.”
To make sure their employee didn’t make matters worse by confessing his part in the mix-up, April distracted him by handing him the squirrel to care for. For a moment Clyde looked torn between responsibilities, but ultimately went away to look for a box and bedding for his new charge.
“Personal use, my eye,” the deputy argued. “This can has a price sticker on it.”
Colton’s hands moved to his blue-jeaned hips. With his feet slightly apart, ready for confrontation, he reminded April of a cowboy preparing to shoot it out.
“If you’ll take a look around,” he said, his voice low and steady, “you’ll see that we don’t sticker any of our drinks. The price list is posted on the cooler door.”
Her partner’s patience was being tested, perhaps more than her own. It was stupid, having to put up with this kind of harassment, but there came a point when it was senseless to fight over inanities. Maybe if they just took their lumps and made an appropriate apology, the deputy would go away satisfied that he’d won.
“Look,” said April, “we have a business to run, and I’m sure you have some other deputying to do. So why don’t you just tell us how much we owe, and we can call an end to this misunderstanding.”
She pulled her purse out from under the counter. Colton tried to stop her, but it was too late. Her wallet was already open, and she was counting out bills onto the Formica counter. A low moan escaped the back of his throat.
Dugg’s eyes widened. “Miz Hanson, you are obviously mistaken about my ethics as a law enforcer.”
A quizzical expression crossed her face. “What? I only—”
If he let her say anything else, she was only going to worsen the situation. Colton spoke up, effectively preventing her from digging the hole any deeper. “I believe my partner is trying to say that she would be willing to pay whatever fine is involved.”
But Dugg wouldn’t accept his explanation. “I’m going to have to charge you both with selling beer without a license.” He glanced at April. “And attempting to bribe an officer of the law.”
She tried to protest but was drowned out as Dugg launched into the Miranda speech. “You have the right to remain silent…” When he finished reading them their rights, he fished a pair of handcuffs out of his back pocket.
Clyde rolled his chair toward them, the squirrel in a cardboard box on his lap, and rubbed the sprinkling of gray whisker stubs on his chin. “Colton, I gotta tell you—”
Colton cut him off. “We need you to stay here and take care of things until we get back. And keep an eye out for Steven. He should be arriving soon.”
His message was clear. Don’t say anything else, or there will be three of us going to the sheriff’s office.
“Hold out your wrists,” Dugg said to April.
She stared helplessly at the cuffs the little man held out toward her. With a quick, pleading glance at Colton, she slowly lifted her arms.
A knot formed in Colton’s gut. There was no way he was going to stand by and let that little twerp handcuff April. His big hand shot out and, without thinking about the consequences, he snatched the metal hardware from the deputy. “Hey!” Dugg yelped. “Give those back.”
“You are not going to put these things on her.”
“Okay, you’ve done it now.” Dugg hitched his pants up and touched the gun at his side. “I’m going to have to charge you with interfering with an officer of the law in the performance of his duties.”
This wasn’t Mayberry, and Colton doubted the deputy was required to carry his bullets in his shirt pocket. Since Dugg was already agitated and obviously out of control of the situation, Colton knew it would be foolhardy to back him into a corner.
“Charge me as you see fit,” he said, dangling the stainless-steel cuffs from one finger, “but the lady doesn’t wear this style of bracelet.”
Dugg grabbed the cuffs from Colton and stepped back a pace as though he might get bitten if he ventured too close. “I’m gonna have to ask you to hold out your arms.”
April moved beside him, and Colton felt her arm slip around his waist. “You don’t n
eed to use those on him,” she said. “He’s never hurt anyone in his life.”
If the deputy hadn’t been clamping steel around his right arm, Colton would have smiled at her words. She’d conveniently forgotten about the times he’d defended her from schoolyard bullies and left them with bruises or bloodied noses.
He waited patiently for the circle to close around his left arm, but Dugg said, “Behind your back.”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” April stepped away as Colton turned to accommodate the deputy.
Their eyes met, and Colton wished he could protect her as easily now as when they were kids.
The cell door opened, and April entered looking as repulsed as she had when the door had first been opened to them more than an hour ago.
Was Nicole home?
Colton slid to one side of the narrow bench attached to the cinder block wall. She looked so pathetic it was all he could do to keep from taking her in his arms and holding her. After all, they had an agreement. Well, they didn’t, but he let her think they did. Shortly after he’d returned to Bliss County to start running Cozy Acres Family Campground with her, he’d suggested they go out together. April was quick to remind him they were friends and business partners first and foremost. She didn’t want to mess up their friendship like she’d done with her ex-husband.
Damn that Eddie for everything he’d done.
April might consider him her best buddy, but Colton wanted more than a “just friends” relationship with her. Just as water wore down rocks in the creek bed, he would wear down her resistance. Somehow, he would find a way to make her stop seeing him as a friend and start seeing him as a potential lover.
She sat next to him. Following his earlier impulse, Colton put an arm around her and tugged her to him. To his surprise and pleasure, she didn’t resist but leaned against him and sighed heavily.
“Nicole will be here in about twenty minutes,” she said. “Thank goodness she was home. If Mom finds out about this, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Considering that Mrs. Hanson still lamented her older daughter’s indiscretion of getting pregnant while unmarried and in high school, he had no doubt April would receive an ear bending for this brush with the law. And calling her niece to come pick them up wouldn’t keep the news from April’s mother. In a town the size of Bliss, there was no doubt the elder Hanson would learn of it eventually.
A wayward fluff of April’s blonde hair caressed the pulse point of his neck. He chuckled, as much from being tickled as from what she said. “That’s a switch, Nicole bailing you out for a change.”
She stared, dead-eyed, at the cell door.
“She told you her news?”
April glanced up and gave him a small smile. “I acted surprised.”
Their physical closeness was making him restless. Colton stood and paced the small enclosure they shared. Apparently, Deputy Dugg, or others like him, had been busy today, which made for a full house. The cinder block walls between cells afforded a small amount of privacy unless the neighboring jailbird was industrious and more than a little curious. In one smooth movement, Colton stepped to the bars at the front of the cell and confiscated a pocket-sized mirror from the hand that had reached around the corner.
“Hey, man, I was just checking out the babe!” a male voice protested. “Ask her if she wants to go dancing.”
“She’s not interested,” Colton growled.
“Tell her I got all my teeth.”
Colton shoved the mirror into his pocket and turned to see April’s reaction. But instead of responding to their neighbor’s dental condition, she quietly announced, “Liver spots or not, I’m going to have a baby.”
He stopped in his tracks. He didn’t know what she meant by the first part of her statement, but the last part felt like a kick in the gut with steel-toed boots. What was a guy supposed to say when the woman he cared about—the only woman he’d ever cared about—said she was pregnant with another man’s baby? If it’s a boy, name it after me? He hadn’t even realized she was seeing anyone.
“I’m going to kill the guy,” he muttered.
2
April lifted her chin from her hands. “What?”
He wasn’t up on the etiquette. Was he supposed to congratulate her or offer his sympathy? Or maybe he should suggest she have an ambulance standing by when she told her mother, because the news that her “good daughter” was pregnant was certain to send Mrs. Hanson into cardiac arrest.
Instead, he blurted the first thing that came to his mind. “Who’s the father?”
“The father?”
“Yes, the last I heard it takes two to make a baby.” There was an edge to his voice, but he couldn’t help himself. Still, her expression was enough to make him clamp his teeth together to prevent another outburst. She’d always confided in him, and even though he didn’t like what he’d just heard, he didn’t want her to shut him out.
“I—I don’t know,” she said, getting up from the bench. “Not yet.”
Despite his resolve to temper his comments, Colton couldn’t hold back. “You don’t know?”
Panic set in as he considered the possibility that she hadn’t been careful about her partners or, more importantly, her health.
Her back was to him. Gripping her shoulders, he turned her around. Her short blond hair swung about her face. “You don’t know?” he repeated.
“I’ll find out,” she said with conviction. “It’s not like I won’t know his hair color or whether he’s tall or short. And I’m sure he’s very bright.” She squirmed under his hands. “You’re hurting my shoulders.”
Colton released her and shoved his hands into his back pockets to keep them still. It didn’t take a bright man to see how attractive she was and take advantage of her trust. And apparently, she’d been very trusting. His hands came out of his pockets as he punctuated the air with them.
“You mean you won’t know until the baby is born? And have you forgotten there are diseases out there?”
“Relax, Buddy,” April said as if she were instructing a new rider on how to sit a saddle. “The fertility clinic checks the donors before they, um, contribute.”
Colton frowned. “Fertility clinic?”
“Yeah, the one in Richmond, near Arthur Ashe Boulevard.”
“You don’t need no fertility clinic,” the voice called from the adjoining cell. “I got real strong swimmers.”
“You mean, you’re not pregnant now?” Colton demanded.
“Why, do you think I look fat?”
Colton began pacing again. How could she think of doing such a thing? “You can’t go down to the clinic.”
April opened her mouth, then promptly closed it and plopped herself down onto the bench. She stared up at him for a moment before responding.
“I’m almost thirty-seven years old, Buddy, and I’m not getting any younger. If I’m ever going to have a baby, now’s the time to do it.” She folded her arms across the Just Do It slogan on her shirt.
“Maybe if you thought it over some more—”
“This is not a whim. It’s not a decision I came to lightly.” She reached down and picked up the cowboy hat he’d set on the bench earlier. Smoothing the band around the weathered crown, she added, “You don’t have to agree with what I’m doing, but I would appreciate it if you were supportive of my decision.”
How could he support her getting pregnant with another man’s child, no matter how anonymous the donor might be?
“What about the baby?” he asked. “Do you think it’s fair to raise a kid without a father?”
“After the divorce, my mother raised my sister and me all by herself, and we turned out okay.”
Colton grew silent. Stella, her older sister, had become pregnant in her senior year of high school. Had she been looking for the male affection that she no longer got from her absentee father?
As for April, she’d impulsively married their mutual friend Eddie Brock the semester after Colton went away to coll
ege. Perhaps she’d been searching for the happiness and companionship that was so obviously lacking in her mother’s life.
Though April had a reputation for being impulsive, and he had the habit of bailing her out of her mishaps, he felt certain she’d given a lot of thought to her decision to have a baby.
She’d be a good mother, that’s for sure. All anyone had to do was watch her with the kids at the campground to see how much she loved them. And they all returned her affection, some of the younger ones crying when their vacation was over and they had to leave “Miss April.” Nevertheless, Colton worried that she was letting her heart rule her head once again. When she did that, all he could do was go along, try to protect her as best he could, and hope for the best.
“That clinic is in a bad part of town,” he declared. “I’ll take you there.”
In the next moment, a uniformed officer turned a key in the lock, and the barred door swung open. “You’re free to go,” he said.
As they left to join Nicole, the man in the next cell called out, “Goodbye, pretty lady. It would have been nice knowing you.”
“I didn’t do anything, Colton. I swear I didn’t.” Steven’s voice cracked, and he hoped his boss wouldn’t mistake the changing of his hormones for guilt. The teenager glanced from Colton to April, silently beseeching them to believe him.
Bea Turner got off her golf cart and tottered up to the camp store porch. Colton was immediately beside her, offering an arm in assistance up the step, but the elderly woman waved him off.
“There’s no need to hover,” she snapped. “I’m not going to fall on your property and sue you.”
Steven could tell April and Colton hadn’t considered that possibility. Even so, he knew they would refuse to think the worst, believing that everything would soon be worked out to everyone’s satisfaction. He wasn’t so sure.
“What seems to be missing this time, Mrs. Turner?” April gestured in invitation toward the empty bench, but their neighbor shook her head and clutched her black handbag tighter under her arm.