A Caldwell Wedding (Serenity Springs)

by Sullivan, Dawn

  The rest of the night was spent contacting Amy’s husband and Clive’s wife, making sure the car was removed from the highway, along with the rest of the debris, and collecting all of the evidence from the accident that they could. It was procedure, even though it seemed obvious what had happened. Clive had swerved in his inebriated state, hitting Amy’s car before losing control of his own vehicle and ending up in the ditch, smashing into a tree. He wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, and the impact with the tree had snapped his neck.

  Creed slammed his hand against the steering wheel, cursing again. Travis and Amy Townsend were friends of his. They’d grown up together, and the couple had been inseparable since the eighth grade. Amy was a loving wife, and wonderful mother, and a good person.

  After rubbing a hand over his face tiredly, Creed retrieved his Stetson from the seat beside him, sighing deeply as he slipped it on. He knew he should go home and get a few hours of sleep, but first he had a few things he needed to take care of at the office, starting with the paperwork from the accident. Fuck, he hated writing reports.

  Taking out his cell phone, he dialed a number he knew by heart. When Sloane answered on the second ring, his lips turned up slowly in a small grin. “Hey baby,” he whispered, “I just wanted to check in.”

  “Everything is fine here,” came the quick response. “I just dropped Cassie off at school, and I’m headed to the bookstore now.”

  His hand tightened on his phone, and Creed muttered, “Wish I were with you.”

  Sloane was silent for a moment, and then she asked, “Are you okay, Creed? Do you need me?”

  The smile on his lips grew wider as he replied, “I always need you, sweetheart.” Sloane’s soft laughter rang in his ears, and warmed his aching heart. “Tell me about the wedding,” he said quietly. “How’s everything coming with it.”

  “It’s coming,” she responded shortly.

  Creed’s eyes narrowed at the almost defeated tone in her voice. “What’s wrong, Sloane?”

  He could hear the tears in her voice, and his heart clenched as she whispered, “I just want it all to be perfect for you, Creed. I’m trying, but…”

  “Sloane,” he interrupted soothingly, “you are all I need. As long as you are there, everything will be perfect. You are all that matters to me, Sloane Murphy. Just you.”

  It took a moment, but then Sloane rasped, “Do you really mean that, Creed?”

  “Yes,” he told her honestly, “I don’t care if we get married in our house, with just you, me, and the minister. As long as you are there, that is all I need.”

  He could picture the sparkle returning to her beautiful brown eyes, as she caught her breath and murmured, “I love you so much, Creed. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  Creed opened the door to his truck, stepping down as he replied, “Me too, baby. Me too.”

  Ending the call, Creed strode purposefully into the building and through the front doors of the station. He needed to get his reports done, and then he was going home to rest, and he was stopping by the bookstore on his way to bring Sloane with him. It was still a couple of hours before she would open the store anyway. She could just open a little bit late. He needed her right now. He wanted to hold her in his arms, and feel her heartbeat against his.

  Striding past the receptionist area, he greeted Margie Timmerman absently as he made his way to the back room for a much needed cup of coffee. It took him until his third sip of the hot brew before he realized that it was his nightly 911 operator sitting at the front desk instead of Claire. His brow furrowing, Creed stalked back up to the front of the building, setting his coffee down on the counter. “What are you doing here, Margie? Where is Claire?”

  Margie shook her head, holding up a finger as she answered the ringing phone. Creed retrieved his hot coffee and took another sip while he waited. Finally, she hung up from the call, and turned back to him. “I have no idea where Claire is, Creed. She never showed up for her shift this morning.”

  Creed glanced around the office, his gaze lighting on Jace and Cody where they stood talking by Jace’s desk. “Hey!” he yelled at them, “have either of you heard from Claire?”

  Jace glanced over and shook his head, “No, boss. I haven’t seen her since Friday.”

  Cody’s eyes narrowed, “She never called in?”

  Creed shook his head, looking at Margie for confirmation. “I haven’t heard anything from her,” Margie told them.

  “That’s not like Claire,” Jace said.

  They had all been on edge with the young receptionist lately, worrying about her after she had slowly started losing weight and had become quiet and distant from everyone. They had all tried to be there for her, but she refused to tell anyone what the problem was.

  “You two, come with me,” Creed ordered, his mind churning with thoughts on just where Claire might be. For all he knew she was just home sick with a cold, but his gut told him that wasn’t it. Something was wrong. “Margie, do you mind manning the desk for a little while longer?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” Margie insisted. “You go find our girl. I am not leaving until I know where she is.”

  Creed nodded, turning to walk out the door, his deputies on his heels. It did not take them long to get to Claire’s place, just two blocks down on the square. She lived above a bakery called Sinfully Delicious, in a small, one bedroom apartment, and had ever since she moved to town after she turned eighteen and graduated from high school. She had been taking online college courses for the past three and a half years, and would be graduating soon. Creed knew she hoped to move up to a deputy position from the receptionist one she was presently in, and he was more than willing to give her a try. She’d proved herself numerous times in the past, taking on way more than the job required. He knew when he hired her that she accepted the receptionist position just to get her foot in the door, and it was a way to afford rent and college until she could begin the career she really wanted in law enforcement. The only problem was, he needed people that he could trust, and ones that would trust him. So far, Claire had not put her trust in him by telling him what was going on in her life. Before all of this happened, he would have given her a shot at one of his open deputy positions in a heartbeat, but now he was not sure it was a good idea. What could be so horrible that she could not share it with either him or Katy? He understood that everyone kept some things to themselves, but secrets, secrets like the one that she refused to share, were not good between partners when there was a chance that lives could be on the line.

  Creed knocked firmly on the door to Claire’s apartment, then stood silently as he waited for a response. When there was none, he called out loudly, “Claire, it’s Sheriff Caldwell. Are you in there?” Still no response. “Claire,” he called, knocking loudly one last time. When there was once again no response, Creed reached down and grasped the doorknob, turning it slightly. His eyes widened in surprise when there was a soft click and the door opened. “Claire,” he yelled, “I’m coming in!”

  Letting the door swing all of the way open, Creed drew his gun and signaled to his deputies to do the same. The first thing that hit him when he stepped through the doorway was the complete silence. There was absolutely nothing, and the place felt empty. Glancing around the small living room area, he motioned for Jace to check the kitchen and balcony, and then for Cody to follow him down a hallway. Slipping past a bathroom quickly, he left it for Cody to check as he made his way to the bedroom at the end of the hall. Something was off. He wasn’t sure what just yet, but his gut was telling him something was wrong.

  “Clear,” Jace shouted from the front of the apartment.

  “Clear,” Cody echoed from the bathroom.

  Creed let his gaze slowly wander around the small room he was in. The bed was perfectly made, looking as if it had never been slept in. The nightstand held a picture of a middle-aged couple he assumed were Claire’s parents. There were built-in shelve
s on one wall overflowing with books, and a dresser that was bare on top. Raising an eyebrow in speculation, Creed walked over to the closet doors, slowly opening them. He stood staring quietly at the emptiness before him, aware of Jace and Cody coming to stand behind him. Yes, something was definitely wrong. Claire was gone.

  Chapter 6

  The week went by in a blur, and by Friday Sloane was exhausted. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place for the wedding the following Saturday. The seamstress in town would have the bridesmaids’ dresses altered and ready to go by Monday night. Sloane was picking up the tuxedos she’d rented for Justice and Linc on Tuesday, just in case they were able to come. Hopefully they fit, because she had guessed at their sizes, going off of her memory of their builds compared to Creed, Ryder, and Caiden. Hell, she didn’t care if they wore jeans, as long as they showed up.

  Her parents were due to arrive on Thursday evening, and were staying with Charles and Cara at the ranch. She could not wait to see them. Her brother and sister were unable to make it with such short notice, but had already sent their congratulations along with gifts. The truth was, she was not close to either of her siblings. She never had been, even before she cut everyone out of her life because of her ex-husband. They were all just very different people, and it didn’t help that there was a huge age gap between them all. She was the oldest, Mark was six years younger than she was, and Brittany three years younger than him.

  The only thing clouding Sloane’s happiness was the fact that no one could find Claire. Creed and his deputies went through everything in her apartment looking for a clue as to why she vanished without a trace, but there was nothing. No note, nothing hidden just for them to find. She was just gone. Claire was such a sweet girl, and Sloane was afraid she may have somehow gotten caught up in something way beyond her control. There were no other explanations that anyone could think of.

  Sloane glanced up from the planner at the sound of the bell ringing as the front door to her store opened. She grinned when the minister from her church, Victor Nichols, walked through, followed by a young woman with large green eyes and a wealth of long, dark red hair.

  “Good morning, Sloane.” The minister’s voice was deep and gravely, but full of warmth. A wide smile crossed his face as he walked up to the counter, then reached over to place a trembling hand on top of one of hers. He was seventy-two years old, and from what she knew, had been the minister at their church for over forty years. She had liked him instantly when they met the year before.

  “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Nichols,” she replied, turning her hand over and squeezing his lightly.

  “You might not say that when you find out why I am here, Sloane,” he told her, a dark red flush covering his cheeks as he ducked his head slightly.

  Sloane’s gaze went from the minister, to the redhead, then back to him again. There was only one reason that she could think that would make Minister Nichols show up at her store late in the afternoon on a Friday, just days before her wedding. She hoped she was wrong, but in her heart, she knew she wasn’t. “It has something to do with my wedding, doesn’t it?” she asked softly, her eyes once again turning to the woman who stood just behind him.

  “I’m sorry, Sloane,” he said quietly, gently patting her hand with his. “It does. I’m afraid I made a mistake that I feel horrible about. But, I think Miss Jersey and I have come up with a solution to the situation that you will be happy with.”

  Sloane took a deep breath, forcing down the panic that was quickly rising inside her. Just moments before, she was thinking about how everything was falling into place, but now it would seem that wasn’t the case.

  “When you called to schedule the church with me,” Minister Nichols began, “even though you told me the date, for some reason I was thinking you wanted it for this Saturday. I already have the church scheduled for next Saturday. A young couple is getting married in the early afternoon, at 3p.m.”

  Sloane stiffened, a muscle ticking in her jaw as she clenched her teeth together tightly. She was supposed to get married at two. If they were getting married at three, there was no way she would be able to have her ceremony in the church. Fighting back tears, she nodded, “I understand.” Gently removing her hand from his, she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. “It’s okay. We can come up with another date.”

  “There is no need for that, child,” he told her kindly. “Like I said, I believe Jersey and I have come up with a solution that will hopefully meet your approval.”

  Biting her bottom lip, Sloane glanced at Jersey. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “who are you?”

  The woman threw her head back and laughed; a deep, full laugh that made the corners of Sloane’s mouth turn up slightly, even though right now all she wanted to do was cry.

  “Jersey,” she said, holding out a hand to Sloane. “Jersey McIntyre.”

  “Jersey will be taking over for me at the church, effective the first Sunday in May,” Minister Nichols told her.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “I will be around to give a sermon every now and then. I just can’t do it all anymore,” he admitted. “I’m tired. I’m getting old.”

  Sloane’s gaze went back to Jersey. “You’re a minister?” she asked in confusion, as her eyes traveled down her body. A snug tee-shirt and tight blue jeans accented all of her curves, and she wore a pair of black boots with at least two inch heels.

  Jersey laughed again, her eyes dancing in merriment. “You sound so shocked.”

  “No...” Sloane stopped, unsure where to go from there. She was shocked, actually, but it seemed rude to tell the other woman that. She was absolutely stunned. Never in a million years would Sloane have envisioned Jersey in front of a pulpit, reading from the bible and sharing God’s word with others.

  “Jersey’s a little more,” the minister paused, before continuing slowly, “she’s a little more eccentric than I am.”

  Jersey burst into laughter. “Maybe just a little bit,” she teased. “God’s disciples come in all different forms, Ms. Murphy. If you would have asked me ten years ago if I thought I would be here, doing His work today, the answer would have been no. Things happen. Life changes people. Now, I wouldn’t want to be any other place.”

  Once again, Sloane let her gaze wander over Jersey’s form, before meeting the woman’s eyes one more time. “I get that,” she said, still in doubt, but willing to listen to what Jersey had to say. “I’ve been there myself.”

  Shrugging, Jersey smiled. “We all follow the path that God puts us on. Mine has been a hard, but good one. I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.”

  “Me too,” Sloane agreed.

  “Good,” Jersey grinned, pushing her long, gorgeous mane of hair over her shoulder, and resting her hands on her hips. “Then you will understand why we need to make this change for next Saturday.”

  Her dark green eyes sparkled with humor, and Sloane could not help but respond. “Alright,” she said, “tell me your idea.”

  Minister Nichols smiled. “Thank you, Sloane. Thank you for being so understanding at this old man’s mistake.”

  “It happens. I am sure we will get it all figured out.”

  He nodded, stepping back from the counter. “I will leave you two ladies to plan everything. I need to get home to work on my sermon for Sunday.”

  After he left, Sloane glanced back at Jersey, suddenly not as worried anymore about the wedding. “So, what’s your plan?”

  Jersey grinned, “Well, I would love it if you would allow me to officiate at your wedding next week.”

  Sloane slowly nodded, all the while thinking, this could get interesting.

  “There are many places in town where we can have the ceremony. I know it won’t be in a church like you were hoping, but weddings outside are so beautiful. I checked out the forecast already, and it looks like the highs will be in the seventies. We can rent chairs from the hall in town. They have beautiful white, wooden ones. The
decorations will look just as beautiful as they would on the pews at the church. There is a park on the north end of town that is absolutely stunning this time of year. Or…”

  “The ranch,” Sloane interrupted.

  Jersey stopped her pacing to look back at her, one eyebrow cocked, “The Caldwell Ranch?”

  “Yes, the Caldwell Ranch. Back behind the house. Cara has the most beautiful flowers. The roses are just starting to bloom.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” Jersey agreed, her eyes glowing with excitement. “We can make an arch for you and the groom to stand beneath. A wooden one, full of beautiful flowers.”

  “Caiden can build one,” Sloane told her. “He can make just about anything out of wood.”

  “That’s great!” Sloane smiled as Jersey went on, sharing more ideas, and her own excitement began to rise as she realized how beautiful her wedding was going to be. It may not be a church wedding like she originally planned, but that didn’t matter. Like Creed had told her several times already, all that mattered was that they were going to be married.

  Chapter 7

  Creed hung up the phone, barely resisting the urge to slam his fist against the desk. Another lead gone, just like Claire. The woman had up and vanished into thin air, leaving no clues behind as to where she had gone. She was good, very good. He had to give her that. They also still had no idea as to why she left in the first place. They dug deeply into her past, but found nothing suspicious, and nothing to point them in the right direction.

  Claire grew up on a small farm, about fifteen miles outside of town with her mother and sister. She had attended school in Serenity Springs, and then accepted a job at the station after graduation, while taking college classes. She was a good kid, without even a parking ticket. There was nothing to suggest she’d ever been in any kind of trouble, and especially not the kind that would run her out of town. Creed and Katy had spoken with her mother, but the poor woman was devastated, and was of no help.