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Deep in the Heart of Dixie

Page 28

by Heidi Sprouse


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  Fairy tales. They were real. The moment she slipped into Dixie Mason’s shoes, magic happened. A home. It might not be much but it was hers. Friends. Honest to goodness, got your back, rainy and sunny day friends. A job…and the prince. Maybe Tinkerbell spilled a bucket of pixie dust on her way to Neverland or the Fairy Godmother made a wrong turn. Aladdin’s dog might have buried the Genie’s lamp under her trailer and the prince probably needed glasses. Dixie didn’t care. She’d stepped into the pages of a story book and hoped she’d never come out. The week at camp was one Dixie would remember for the rest of her life, lazy days spent swimming and sunbathing. Gardening and cooking with Sara with a joy and freedom she and Mama were never allowed. Having no schedule to abide by, no watching the clock waiting for Owen to get home or those awful moments when he took them by surprise, showing up on his lunch break or when he was fired—again.

  James took her and Jake out in the boat each day and taught her the wonders of catching a big one, letting it go. Dixie had never been fishing, didn’t know a rod from a reel or how to poke a worm out for bait but the day she caught one no bigger than her hand, she was hooked. The more time she spent with the man, the more she played pretend that he was her daddy. Mornings were Sara’s, helping prepare a brunch, enjoying family time. Every night, they stayed up late, lying on their backs and studying the stars.

  It was their final evening. James and Sara, yawning, unable to keep their eyes open, had wandered off to bed. Dixie and Jake took one more turn, stretched out on the lawn, staring up at the midnight sky. The stars were so bright, she thought she could reach up and pluck one in her hand. “See that one right there?” She whispered. Jake had started to doze off and gave a little start. “That’s Mama. The great big one next door, that’s Daddy. They’ll never be apart again.” Her cheeks were wet and her voice had a little catch. She wished she could climb up there and shine with them.

  “See that stardust sprinkling down? They’re showering you with kisses.” Jake brushed her cheek with his finger. His hand found its way to hers and held on. “That warm air pressing down, that’s their hugs and if you listen really careful, they’re whispering ‘I love you,’ in the breeze.” Dixie turned to him with a smile.

  “You’re a silver-tongued angel, Jake Lee Jackson, that’s what you are.” She stood up then with mischief flashing in her eyes. “Get under that beach blanket and no peeking until I say so.” A quick shuck of her t-shirt and shorts, a splash, and Dixie called out. “What are you going to do—just sit there all day? The water’s real fine. Coming in?”

  Jake stood up slowly, surveying the scene, taking in the trail of clothes telling their tale. His eyes opened wide and his pulse started to do a little dance. “And just how am I getting in without you getting a look at me?” His answer—laughter and a wiggle of her finger in invitation. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and stuck a toe in the water.

  “Aww, Jake, come on. I’ll duck under water. Move fast and I won’t see a thing.” Dixie popped beneath the surface and counted to ten. When she came back up for air, there was nothing on shore but a pair of shorts. There was no sign of any movement in the water. “Jake? Jake!” Her voice rose sharply, spiking with fear. “Jake Lee Jackson, quit fooling around!”

  A head suddenly burst out of the water out in the middle of the lake as Jake took in a great gasping breath. The thought of Dixie with only water to cover her body had his heart hammering and imagining things that was making his body go haywire. A good, long swim helped, if only to wear him out and slow his brain down a bit. “Care to join me, Dixie Cup, or are you chicken?”

  That grin was all it took. Dixie ignored the buzzing in her ears and the bird-sized butterflies taking flight in her stomach. A few good strokes and she was nose to nose with Jake. She couldn’t see anything in the inky water of the lake but the thought of being next to a boy with nothing covering him down below had her face so hot it was a wonder the water wasn’t hissing. “You…you can’t see anything on me can you? I mean…I’ve never been undressed in front of a boy before…or seen a boy without… you know.” Suddenly self-conscious, she almost stuck her head back under water.

  “Dixie, relax. We’re just skinny dippin,’ honey. I’m not making any moves on you except for one.” Jake came in close enough that they were breathing the same air. Before she think twice, he planted a kiss on her lips, a long one that left them both a little dizzy. The bats skimmed the surface of the water, catching dinner, but nothing disturbed the boy and the girl in the water. They stared at one another for a heartbeat and Dixie took her turn trying out a kiss. This time, when they closed their eyes, they both saw fireworks.

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  Owen staggered into the post office in Gerrardstown. He stood at the window and made a futile effort to smooth his hair, attempting to look presentable but failed miserably. Days without showering made his hair an unmanageable mess. He’d worn the same clothes since he left the truck stop in Pennsylvania. Presentable was out of the question. Someone’s worst nightmare was more like it.

  He walked up to the postmaster, a wizened ,old, man with spectacles on the end of his nose and a back stooped from years of sorting mail. Clearing his throat, Owen thought to throttle his voice down below a growl. “Do you recognize this girl? She’s my daughter that’s run away and I’m trying to bring her home.”

  The postmaster squinted at the photo and shook his head. “Don’t ring a bell. Sorry, sonny.” He moved on to his next customer, eyeing the deviant creature with suspicion. A lot of people had walked through his door in his time. This one barely qualified as human. Wouldn’t have turned over a dog to the likes of him.

  Owen moved on, asking customers down the line. Everyone looked at him with disdain, some refused to talk to him or moved away, and no one helped him. He walked out, shoulders hunched in frustration, and kicked out at the brick foundation. Three giggling girls climbed out of a BMW and walked toward the entrance. He straightened up and approached them, his last try before he moved on, started going door to door.

  The girls were wary. A dark-haired girl reached in her purse, hand on the mace inside. “Carole Sue, just head right inside.”

  “That’s right, Bobbi Jo. He is definitely a stranger.” She nodded and took the blonde girl’s arm. “We’ve taken self-defense class and my daddy is a judge so don’t get any ideas.”

  “Just a minute of your time, ladies. I mean you no harm. I’m just trying to find my runaway daughter, get her back home. I’ve missed her something awful and I’ve been searching for weeks, come all the way from up North. She’s just made a downright mess out of me, what with the worrying. I haven’t been able to stop to rest or dress proper. Have you seen her?” He held out the girl’s last school picture.

  Each girl scanned it for a moment and shook their heads, eager to get away from the horrible man, when Carole Sue snatched the photo out of his hands. The dark hair and the scared look in the eyes had thrown her but if she looked carefully at the face, pictured it with a cocky smile, and a curtain of cheap, fiery curls, there was something familiar tugging at her. “Wait a minute...of course. I know who that is. We had a Yankee girl come here not too long ago. She’s going by the name of Dixie Mason. She’s in the next town over, in Dale’s Hollow. Look for her at Jackson’s General or Nichol’s Park Lane. Oh, one more thing. She’s a redhead now.”

  Carole Sue looked up into the man’s cold eyes and couldn’t hold back a shiver. The slightest bit of conscience told her to call the authorities and notify Dixie. Leading that no-good piece of trash to her was like throwing Little Red Riding Hood to the Big Bad Wolf and handing him a toothpick to pick his teeth after he was done licking his lips. Carole Sue stomped on any misgivings she might have while Owen shuffled away. Moving on to the post offi
ce door, she did her best to ignore the heavy lump in her stomach that said she’d done the wrong thing. After all, who was she to get in the middle of a family’s pile of dirty laundry? The girl deserved what she had coming, skulking on in to their town and putting herself where she didn’t belong. Time to get her back with her own kind.

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  He was so close, he could feel her in his hands. Thinking about what he would do to her made a smile stretch across his face that did nothing to warm his dead eyes. One town over. Owen’s journey was nearly done. As for the girl—Dixie—he’d be sure to give her something to cry about before he was through.

 

 

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