Biloxi Brides (Sugar and Grits)

by Martha Rogers

  “Did I hear my name?” Fanny waved from the kitchen. “Are you boys watching the clock?”

  Gus gave Bud a look, then turned to face his date. “We’re letting you women watch the clock.”

  “Don’t count on me, Grandpa,” Sue Ellen called. “Far as I’m concerned, midnight’s just the time the clock chimes. It certainly doesn’t mean anything special.”

  There was no missing the look Sue Ellen gave him. He almost grinned when Dottie Jean swatted at Sue Ellen with a dishtowel. Words were exchanged, but in a whisper. From their expressions, it looked as though Dottie Jean was explaining to Sue Ellen just how wonderful Bud Briggs was.

  Or at least he hoped that was the case.

  “How ’bout you and me take this conversation a little farther away from the females?” Gus headed for the front porch and motioned for Bud to follow.

  Bud stepped into the brisk air and sucked in a deep breath. Somewhere between dessert and now, the temperature had plummeted. Tomorrow morning’s run would be a good one, but he’d probably need a second layer under his sweatshirt.

  Gus took up pacing and only stopped when the door closed behind them.

  “Here’s the thing, Bud,” Gus said. “I figure I’m about done for in the wife department. I had me the best, and we spent a lot of good years together.”

  Unsure of the correct response, Bud kept it neutral. “I reckon you did.”

  “I’m not sayin’ that a body don’t get lonely. And my wife, rest her soul, she made me promise I’d marry up again if I felt the Lord a-leadin’ me to it.” He started pacing again. “I figured I could ease my way through what’s left of my life here on earth without having to worry about any of this. Then the competition started.”

  “Competition?” Bud chuckled. “Over you?”

  “Yeah, I know.” Gus halted his pacing. “It don’t make no sense, does it? The trouble all started when the new widow woman came to town.”

  “You mean Miz Ledbetter?”

  “That’s the one. Ever since she came to town, Fanny’s been working twice as hard to get my attention. Guess she thinks she’s got to best the sheriff’s sister-in law.” He shook his head. “Faeoni Ledbetter’s a fine woman, but I don’t cotton to her or Fanny as the next Mrs. Caldwell.”

  “If you’re not looking, Gus, why’re you here with Fanny?”

  He shrugged. “I figure to nip this silliness in the bud. If I pay attention to Fanny, maybe Faeoni won’t think she’s got a chance and will drop out of the race. Once Fanny spends time with me, I figure she’ll lose interest, too. I don’t believe you’d know this, Bud, but I’m not the easiest man to live with.”

  It was Bud’s turn to laugh. “Why’re you telling me this?”

  “Laugh all you want, young man, “ Gus said. “Let’s just see if you’re laughing when it happens to you.”

  A shiver snaked down Bud’s spine, and he wished for his jacket. “If that’s all you’re worried about, then we can go back inside.”

  “Maybe so, maybe not.” He paused. “I figure if my grand-daughter takes a shine to you and you don’t cotton to settlin’ down with her, you’ll know how to handle the situation.”

  “Let me get this straight. You think I’m in danger of having your granddaughter fall for me?”

  “I’d say it’s more than a danger.” Gus leaned closer. “She’s here with you, ain’t she?”

  The old man looked so solemn, Bud almost bought it. Almost, but not quite.

  Had it not been so cold out, he might have stuck around and argued the point for the craziness it was. Instead, he decided to cut to the chase.

  Bud took a step back and shook his head. “All right. You got me, Gus. Where are the rest of the guys?”

  “What’re you talkin’ about, Bud? It’s just you and me out here.”

  “Sure it is.” He gave Gus a sideways look. “You’re ribbing me again, and this time I won’t be fooled. You got me here by challenging me to ask your granddaughter to the party, then prodding my ego until I took the bait.” He stomped his feet to get the circulation going. “I did that, but I shouldn’t have. Sue Ellen and I are like matches and dry kindling.”

  Gus had the audacity to laugh. “I know that, boy. Been knowin’ that since the two of you were knee-high to a grasshopper.”

  He did a quick check of the shrubs lest the others in Gus’s crowd were hiding there. The sound of laughter from somewhere inside drifted past.

  “I’m going back in, Gus, and I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. You do whatever you want about Fanny and Miz Ledbetter, but leave me out of it. And as for Sue Ellen—”

  “What about Sue Ellen?” a familiar female voice asked.

  Bud cringed. Of course the woman would come outside just now.

  “Nothing, darlin’,” Gus said. “Bud and me were just jawin’. Say, what’s this I hear about you takin’ a tumble off my ladder?”

  Sue Ellen approached and wrapped her arm around her grandfather’s waist, then gave Bud a look. “Did you tell on me?”

  “Of course not, girl. That boy’s got more sense than to tell on you. He knows I’d have had your hide for being on the ladder at all.” He looked down at Sue Ellen. “Where did you find that thing anyway?”

  “It was leaning behind the garage.” Sue Ellen frowned. “It’s cold out here.”

  “I told you to wear your sweater,” Bud said.

  Another look and then Fanny came to the door.

  “Gus, honey, are you planning to stay out there all night?”

  Leota knocked on the window and gestured for Sue Ellen to come inside. Bud watched her go, helpless to find the words to keep her with him.

  “One minute,” Gus said. “Bud and me aren’t quite finished with our business.”

  Gus’s date looked disappointed, but she merely nodded and disappeared inside. When the door closed, Gus clamped his hand on Bud’s shoulder.

  “You’ve got to get hold of your senses, Bud Briggs, else you’re going to ruin it for the rest of us bachelors.”

  “What’re you talking about?” He watched Sue Ellen through the window as she appeared to be deep in conversation with Leota. My, but she looked pretty with her hair done up like that.

  “Now that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. The last fella who went around with that hangdog look ended up married—tonight.”

  Bud swallowed hard. He tried to protest, but there wasn’t any use. Gus had him caught, and good.

  “I can’t help it,” he said. “That girl’s been a thorn in my side long as I can remember.”

  Gus shook his head. “Well, all I got to say is fish or cut bait. Me, I’m going back inside.”

  The older man made good on his statement, and Bud followed. It was warm inside but crowded. He hated crowds.

  The idea of leaving now appealed to him, but in reality it defeated the purpose. In order to make his exit, he’d have to take Sue Ellen and Reverend Jordan with him.

  “Pondering the great mysteries of the universe?” Sue Ellen tapped him on the shoulder, and then yawned. “I hate to be a party pooper, but I think I’m going to head home.” She gestured to the hulk of a man standing near the door. “Bubba Lee said he’d be glad to run me home, since it’s on his way.”

  Bud exchanged nods with the man who, back on the high school football team, threw blocks so Bud could run for touchdowns. Without a word to Sue Ellen, Bud made his way to the door and Bubba.

  He shook hands with the burly fellow, making sure his handshake was every bit as strong as Bubba’s. When Bud saw the big man wince, he released his grip.

  “I ’preciate the offer to take Sue Ellen home,” Bud said, “but I’ll be seein’ her home tonight.” You got a problem with that?

  Bubba caught on quick. “All right, then.”

  “All right, then,” Bud added.

  Reverend Jordan chose that moment to come between the men. Thankfully, he needed a ride home, and Bubba made his services available. “Yes,” the revere
nd explained. “I promised my wife I’d get home in time to watch the ball drop in Times Square.”

  “I’m particular fond of watching that myself,” Bubba added. “Might ought to get on out of here, then. I’d hate to miss it.”

  Bubba opened the door for the reverend, and just before following the preacher outside, he gave Bud a smile and a big thumbs-up.

  Bud palmed his keys and checked his watch. Twenty minutes to twelve. If he hurried, he could have Sue Ellen home before the clock struck.

  “You ready to go?”

  “Oh no, you can’t leave yet, Bud Briggs,” Sassy said. “You’ve got to stay here until midnight.”

  “Who’s leaving before midnight?” Dottie Jean grasped Sue Ellen’s wrist. “Are you feeling ill? Have you caught cold?” She stepped back to give Sue Ellen the once-over. Apparently satisfied, Dottie Jean let her go. “Bud told you to bring a sweater.”

  Although he could have said more, Bud only nodded.

  “I’m fine, Dottie Jean,” Sue Ellen said. “Just a little tired. I thought I might—”

  “Go home and watch the year change on television?” Dottie Jean shook her head. “I declare that’s what’s wrong with the two of you. Instead of watching life on television or from the inside of a squad car, why don’t you start actually living it?”

  Speechless, Bud turned to Sue Ellen. She seemed to be trying to form a protest but having no luck.

  “Well, neither of you is going anywhere until the clock strikes midnight.” Fletcher wrapped his arm around his bride’s waist. “The squad car’s blocked in by a half dozen vehicles.” He shrugged. “Hazard of coming early, I guess.”

  It didn’t take a specialist in criminal behavior to note the twinkle in his host’s eyes. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you, Fletcher?”

  “I refuse to answer that question.” The older man shrugged. “I suppose in your line of work, Deputy, that would be called taking the fifth.”

  Chapter Nine

  Sue Ellen looked around the room for a diversion and found none.

  Bud jammed his keys back into the pocket of his jeans and rubbed his palms together. “Least we can do is make the best of it.”

  “S’pose so,” she responded.

  “Another fifteen minutes and I can take you home.”

  She shrugged. “Better figure on more than that, Deputy. You’re assuming all these folks are leaving at midnight. What you don’t know is that Dottie Jean’s got a whole other course of desserts and appetizers to serve after the clock strikes. Oh, and don’t forget the fireworks. I heard tell that Fletcher went all the way to Biloxi for them.”

  Bud groaned.

  “Hey, a girl could be insulted by a man who’s that anxious to leave her company.”

  His expression softened. “I could say the same for me. That is, for you.” He shook his head. “What I mean is, you sure were in a hurry to get home. A guy might be insulted by that, too.”

  Sue Ellen chewed on that statement for a minute. “Fair enough. How about we make the best of the rest of the evening?”

  Bud looked around at the milling crowd and saw few prospects for enjoying himself. “What do you have in mind?”

  Her smile was contagious as her gaze swept the room. “Since Bubba and the reverend left, looks like we’re the only ones who aren’t a couple. What say we find a television somewhere in this place and watch the ball drop?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, Sue Ellen. I doubt Dottie Jean wants us wandering around her home.”

  She grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the nearest exit, a hallway that led away from the noise of the crowd. “Which door shall we try?” she whispered as she looked at doors on the right, then on the left. “How about that one?”

  Bud stopped short and refused to budge as Sue Ellen tried the first door on the left. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Turning the knob, she pushed the door open to find a linen closet. “Hush. If you’re not going to help, at least keep quiet.”

  She tried another door and found what looked like a guest bedroom. On the third attempt, she hit the jackpot. A cozy den, done up in dark wood paneling, beckoned. A leather sofa dominated the center of the room, while a large television hung above the fireplace.

  “Bud, get in here.”

  Sue Ellen stepped inside the room and inhaled deeply of the vanilla scent, a fat white candle sitting on the oversized coffee table being the obvious culprit. Beside the candle was what looked like a remote control for the television.

  “Any idea how to. . . Bud?” She retraced her steps to find the deputy still standing in the hallway. “What are you doing?”

  “You’re trespassing, Sue Ellen, and I won’t be a part of—”

  Before he could complete the sentence, Sue Ellen had him inside the room with the door shut tight. “Now all we need to do is figure out how to get this thing working.” She thrust the remote in his direction, but he refused to take it. “Come on, Bud. Loosen up. Do you honestly think Dottie Jean and Fletcher will care that we’re watching their television instead of standing around out there making small talk?”

  “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “But I just don’t think. . . Say, look at the size of that television. Is that surround sound? I wonder if Fletcher’s got 3D.”

  Sue Ellen chuckled as she handed him the remote, then led him to the sofa. “Sit here, techno dude, and fire that puppy up. The night’s not getting any younger.”

  Three clicks of the remote and they were watching a sports wrap-up of the evening’s bowl games. Sue Ellen grabbed for the remote, but Bud was too fast for her. He switched from the sports talk to a John Wayne movie.

  “Oh man, this looks amazing in HD on a screen this size,” he said as he made himself comfortable on the sofa. “I wish we’d thought to bring popcorn.”

  “Hey,” Sue Ellen said as she made another reach for the remote, “you’re going to make us miss the big moment. Cut that out.”

  “Oh, all right,” he said, “but I don’t think you fully understand what I’m giving up so that you can watch that show. Don’t you realize this movie is the Duke’s personal favorite?”

  She gave him an I-don’t-care look, then made a grab for the remote. He easily dodged her and turned the channel to the golf channel.

  “Bud!”

  He gave her a wicked grin as he clutched the remote to his chest. “Quiet, Sue Ellen, or we’ll be found out.”

  “Why, Bud Briggs, that was spoken like a true criminal.”

  His brows shot up in mock offense. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said in an exaggerated drawl, “but last time I checked, I was the law around here.”

  Before she could protest, Bud switched the channel to the correct program. Sue Ellen settled into the cushy leather sofa and watched a popular actor and his on-screen costar freezing on a balcony overlooking Central Park while chatting about their latest romantic comedy. Obviously half listening to the staged banter, Sue Ellen cast a furtive glance at her companion.

  The flickering light of the television cast a myriad of colors across his face, and the light of the single lamp cast gilded highlights into his already golden hair. While her fingers itched to improve the straight lines of the barber’s cut, she also wondered how the blond strands would feel to the touch.

  He obviously bought his hair products at the grocery store, and whatever he used did not have a good conditioner in it. Probably one of those shampoo-and-conditioner-in-one items. Given the right cut and a deep conditioning, the deputy would be drop-dead gorgeous.

  Who was she kidding? He already was.

  If only he had a sense of humor. Sue Ellen sighed again. There was nothing more tragic than a man who’d forgotten how to have fun.

  A commercial featuring a talking lizard came on, and Bud chuckled. He always did have a nice smile.

  Lord, You’ve thrown Bud and me together since we were just kids. Why is it that I feel like I’m just now seeing him for the first time?

  What wou
ld it take to keep Bud Briggs in Calista? She sighed. Certainly more than the promise of a romance with her.

  Much as she hoped she could change the situation, unless the Lord intervened, Bud Briggs would be headed out of Calista as soon as he heard back from the FBI Academy. And thanks to a recommendation from her daddy, he was all but certain to get in.

  “Thanks, Dad,” she muttered.

  “What’s that?” Bud hit the MUTE button. “Did you say something?”

  “No, nothing.” At least nothing I meant for you to hear.

  The New Year’s Eve program came back on, and Bud clicked off the MUTE button. “You’re not old enough to start talking to yourself, and I’m not deaf,” she thought he said.

  “What’s that?” She caught his grin as it disappeared.

  “Nothing at all. Just making an observation.” He pointed to the television. “Look, isn’t that the guy from. . .”

  Bud kept talking, and Sue Ellen did her best to give the on-screen antics her full attention. Something about the man sitting less than an arm’s length away kept her thoughts skittering in two directions.

  “Five more minutes,” Bud said without removing his gaze from the screen.

  She didn’t reply.

  “Any last-minute resolutions you want to make?” He swiveled to view her profile. “Other than a full month of following my every command.”

  Butterflies crashed about in Sue Ellen’s stomach, and she clasped her trembling hands. Then good sense took over. Much as she wanted to be a blob of simpering emotions, she did have her pride.

  “As I recall, I didn’t commit to anything. I said I’d listen to what you had to say over lunch.”

  He shrugged. “Fair enough. But don’t think you’re ordering the fried catfish.”

  Sue Ellen worked up a look of pretend anger. “I predict by the end of the month I’ll have you eating fried catfish and begging for more.”