A Wedding in Apple Grove (15 page)

Bolstered by the feminine company, she started to feel more like herself. Meg sighed. “I'm so hungry, I could gnaw off my right arm.”

Her friend laughed. “How long have you got before your next stop?”

Meg stretched and said, “Ten minutes, but you can talk while I eat, and then maybe I'll have the strength to talk.”

“OK,” Honey B. said, putting her hands on her hips. “Now you're just bragging.”

Meg didn't argue with her; she was too busy letting the wonders of coffee—hot, light, and sweet—work its magic on her beleaguered brain. When the plate of sweet rolls appeared before her, Meg wolfed down the first one before she realized Honey B. was talking.

“Sorry. I wasn't listening. What did you just say?”

Her friend frowned. “Pay attention, I'm only going to repeat myself once, because you're obviously famished and I'm dying to find out why.”

“OK,” Meg mumbled, her mouth full of gooey, sweet carbs.

“Melanie was waiting for us last night. Between Mrs. Winter, Miss Trudi, and I, we came up with a bio that I think will attract someone interesting.”

Meg nodded. “You're a fabulous person,” she said. “What's not to like?”

Honey B. shook her head. “I used to wonder why I couldn't catch the sheriff's eye. I've been in love with that man for so long, I'm starting to think maybe it was just a habit I'd gotten into.”

“And now?”

“I'm still not sure, but I feel good about doing something instead of sitting around and waiting for him to notice me beyond the fact that my sister is his dispatcher.”

“Mitch Wallace is a busy man, but even he can't help but notice someone like you, Honey B.”

Meg got up and poured herself another cup of coffee and held up the pot. “You want some?”

Honey nodded. “Thanks.”

When Meg handed it to her black, just the way Honey B. liked it, Honey sipped and set it back down. “All right, now start talking.”

That was all the urging Meg needed as she unburdened her soul to her friend. They'd shared so many years of broken dreams, it was time they shared some happy news. “I was going to let him go and start looking for someone else, now that I've realized what I have with Jimmy isn't worth keeping.”

“But?” Honey B. prompted.

“Now I'm wondering if maybe I'm not the only one who has a past and maybe I should be reasonable and try it Dan's way for a little while.”

“Is that what you want?”

“No,” Meg admitted. “But it's what I'm willing to do as long as I get what I want in the end.”

Honey B. smiled. “And what is that?”

Meg grinned. “Dan in my bed every night.”

“Is that all you want from the man?”

Meg laughed, a deep sultry sound that surprised even her. “For starters. I'm hoping that we have a few more things in common other than we like classic cars and burn each other up in bed.”

Honey B. took a long, slow sip. “I'm willing to bet that you do. Otherwise, your heart wouldn't have let you anywhere near that man last night.”

“You think so?” Meg wasn't so sure but was hopeful.

“I do. Now, do you want to know how we're going to leak the information about my online dating?”

Meg glanced at her wristwatch and grinned. “I've got three minutes. Spill.”

“I'm going to use the Apple Grove Diner as my meeting place and make sure that the McCormack sisters know why.”

“But what good will that do?”

“My sister Cindy's in on my plans and has convinced me that I just might meet someone who is more suited to me than Mitch, and you know what a hotbed of gossip the diner is.”

Meg digested that thought and waited for Honey B. to continue.

“Cindy's in the perfect spot to relay information as I feed it to her, and she's told me more than once that he has the ears of a cat, so I plan to give him something really interesting to hear.”

“But you will be careful, won't you?”

Her friend sighed. “I'm not stupid.”

“I never said you were. I just don't want you to get hurt or your heart to get broken.”

“Like yours?”

Meg rubbed her hand over her heart. “Mine's not really broken… bruised, but on the mend.”

“Can you stop by later?” Honey B. asked, getting up to clear the tiny table in the back of her shop.

“I've got a busy day but sure. What time did you have in mind?”

“Right around closing time, that way you can be in on the first call to Apple Grove's dispatcher.”

“You really think you'll have some responses by then?”

Her friend's smile was just this side of wicked. “I've got twenty messages in my inbox right now.”

“That must be some bio you came up with.”

Honey B. laughed. “I may have tweaked it a bit too much.”

Meg looked at the time and swore. “I've got to go, but I'll be back.”

Honey B. pulled her in for a quick hug and was pushing Meg out the door. “Get going so you can hurry back.”

“I'll keep you posted if I hear any scuttlebutt about Dan the man.”

Meg was laughing when she got back into her truck. Recharged and lighter of heart, she was ready to tackle the rest of her day. “Maybe I'll let Dan stew a little first before I tell him I've decided to let him start over.”

Dan wondered if he was going to make it through the day without losing his temper. He had to talk to Meg to make her understand, but he also needed to speak to Doyle and Hawkins to make sure that they hadn't gone out onto that bridge because of something that he had said. When they showed up early for his first period phys ed class, he did a double take. “What are you two doing here?”

They looked at one another and then at him. Doyle grinned. “Taking class?”

Hawkins started to laugh and Dan knew then that he must have lost his mind sometime during the night. If he had, he knew right where to place the blame—it was his own fault.

“Do you have a doctor's note?”

Doyle and Hawkins both shrugged. “We weren't sick.”

He turned to Hawkins and rasped, “But you almost drowned.”

“Heck, Coach,” Hawkins said, “everybody knows that almost doesn't count except for in hand grenades and horseshoes.”

Dan shook his head at the two of them and motioned for them to go over to the bleachers and have a seat. “I need to talk to you two.”

“We wanted to say something to you too, Coach.” Doyle's voice was quiet as he and Hawkins sat down.

“I need to ask: what were you doing on the bridge?” He'd hoped that he'd been making progress and getting the boys on the team in particular to open up and trust him. Thin beads of sweat trickled from his temples. “Well?”

They finally looked back at him and Doyle told him, “We've been walking on that bridge since we were kids. It's our thinking place.”

“Why?”

They stared at him for the longest time before Hawkins suggested, “Because we can?”

“But it's dangerous!” Dan was incensed. How could he have given these two the benefit of the doubt that they were marginally intelligent and compared them to the football players who had pulled a stunt that was far less dangerous? He had to ask, “Couldn't you think of another way to amuse yourselves?”

“We didn't feel like cow tipping and the Smolinsky brothers had already pulled one prank at the school, so we wanted to think up something better.”

Dan shook his head. At least he knew it wasn't because of him that they'd been on that bridge yesterday. “But why would you walk there if Hawkins can't swim?”

Doyle and Hawkins looked at each other again. “It's never been a problem before.”

“Well, what the heck do you do when the train starts coming?”

Doyle grinned. “We usually slip underneath and wait until it's gone, then we climb back up.”

Dan shook his head. “So it
is
my fault that you nearly drowned. I'm sorry.”

“No problem, Coach. My mom's been telling me for years I've got to learn to swim. After yesterday, I understand why and I'm gonna take lessons.”

“Is there a local pool?”

Doyle laughed. “I'm going to teach him down at the lake.”

“There's a lake nearby?”

The boys looked at one another and then back at him. Doyle told him, “On the other side of town.”

“Great bass and trout fishing,” Hawkins told him. “Not too many weeds by the shore.”

“Take another one of your friends with you.”

“Why?” Doyle asked.

“One of you can be with Hawkins teaching him and the other can be ready to call for help. Swimming where it's weedy is dangerous. You can get tangled up fast.” He rubbed at the ache in his forehead. “Isn't there a swimming pool nearby?”

“Not indoor,” Hawkins told him.

“Then make sure you go with someone else—safety in numbers. Maybe you should wait until spring; it's too cold to go swimming.”

The boys were still chuckling when the rest of the kids started to wander in to class. “Are you two busy Saturday morning?”

Doyle shook his head. “My mom always makes me do my homework before the weekend. I'm free.”

“Me too,” Hawkins said. “What do you have in mind?”

“My great-aunt needs help over at her garden center and I was wondering if anyone wants to help. She promised hot cinnamon rolls and coffee in exchange for an hour or so of our help.”

“We'll be there,” Doyle said. “What time?”

“Is eight o'clock too early?”

They looked as if they were about to say no when Weatherbee and McCormack walked over to join in their conversation. “Too early for what?”

“We're gonna help the coach over at Miss Trudi's Saturday morning,” Doyle said.

“Wanna come too?” Hawkins asked.

“Sure.”

“My aunt's promised cinnamon rolls and coffee—”

“I'm in! Your aunt makes awesome cinnamon rolls,” Weatherbee said.

“Yeah,” McCormack added. “She makes them for the church's rummage sale in the spring and then again in the fall.”

At his first break, he called his aunt and told her the good news that four of his team members would be joining him Saturday morning. Somehow Dan made it through the rest of the day without trying to second-guess all that the boys had told him. He'd made a mistake, but in his defense, the sheriff had urged him to grab the boys and jump. He'd acted quickly, and in the end no one had been seriously injured. Life was funny that way—sometimes bad things had to happen to prevent something even worse from occurring.

If he was going to put this behind him, he had to talk to Sheriff Wallace too.

After practice, he drove to the Sheriff's office and walked into bedlam.

“What in the hell do you mean, she's put herself up on a dating site?”

The sheriff was a formidable man when he wasn't riled. Angry, the man resembled a bear, and even a suburbanite like Dan knew better than to poke a wild animal.

“I don't see what the problem is, Sheriff,” his dispatcher said quietly, glancing behind the sheriff at Dan. “Besides, what's done is done and you've got someone waiting to see you.”

“I don't care who the hell—”

Dan decided he'd better distract the man before he took his temper out on Cindy. “Thought I'd come back and fill you in on what Doyle and Hawkins had to say today.”

The sheriff's anger evaporated. Dan admired the man's ironclad control. “So they showed up for school today?”

“I figured they'd be out for a couple of days,” Dan said, “all things considered.”

“Well, they weren't sick.”

Dan bit back what he wanted to say. He was still the new guy in town and didn't want to give anyone the wrong impression of him… but then again, maybe it was better if he leveled with the sheriff from the start. “Did you know that the bridge is their
thinking
place
?”

Mitch was watching Dan closely, which made him wonder if maybe he shouldn't have brought it up. Had he just told the man something he didn't need to know?

“Hell, I've known that for years. Those boys pretty much hang out there and climb like monkeys… you, on the other hand, were an unknown yesterday. I figured by telling you to jump that you'd pull them in with you. I couldn't count on the fact that you could clamber down under the trestle bridge and wait for the train to pass overhead.”

“What if I didn't think to grab those boys and pull them into the water with me? What would have happened then?”

“I'm a pretty good judge of character. Besides, it's best not to think about the what-ifs in life.” Mitch turned to listen to what Cindy was saying and bent down to place his huge hands on the front of her desk when he answered her. “You tell your sister that I'll be over there later to discuss her putting herself out there where all kinds of psychos, wackos, and weirdos are bound to prey on her.”

Cindy nodded. “I agree, but you know Honey B. She's turning thirty in a few months and… well”—Cindy leaned close to confide—“her biological clock's ticking.”

“Damn fool woman,” the sheriff grumbled, straightening up and spinning on his boot heel. “Dating site, my ass.” He stalked past Dan into his office and slammed the door.

“Well.” Cindy dialed the phone and was smiling when she said, “That went far better than we'd hoped.”

Dan picked up on the comment and wondered what she'd meant by it, but felt like an idiot asking her outright. Maybe he could find out later.

Walking outside to his car he realized where his train of thought was going and had to laugh at himself. “Not even two weeks in the sticks and you're getting involved in local gossip.”

He wondered if he'd started any gossip by staying at Meg's so late last night. He pulled a U-turn and headed toward his aunt's garden center. She'd be his best source of information right now and might be able to help him decide what to do about Meg.

“Daniel,” his aunt called out from where she stood at the front of her shop, holding her watering wand. “I'm just giving these mums some water.”

He had to smile. His great-aunt was wearing her signature outfit again—including the rubber boots she referred to as her
Wellies
. He stared at her and the odd extra width of fabric at her hips. Who the heck wore pants like that? Well, aside from his great-aunt and equestrians.

“Everything looks great here.”

She smiled at him and then her look turned thoughtful. “Something heavy weighing on your mind, Daniel?”

Was he that transparent or had the gossips been at work?

“I, uh… was just at the sheriff's office.”

She nodded and moved to another row of planters. “Those boys were bound to get into trouble one of these days, sitting on that bridge instead of finding somewhere safer to spend their time.”

“Does everyone in town know that Doyle and Hawkins spend their time out on that bridge?”

She looked over her shoulder at him and inadvertently sprayed the window of her garden center.

“You're watering your front window, Aunt Trudi.”

She harrumphed at him but turned around to watch where she pointed her water wand. “To answer your question, I cannot speak for everyone in town, but their parents, the sheriff, Amelia Winter, and I know that they do. Why do you ask?”

“Shouldn't someone have warned them to stay away from that bridge? Don't they know how dangerous it could be?”

She turned off the water and hung the hose with its attachment on the hook by the big double doors to her shop. “Land sakes, Daniel. I don't know why you're all het up about this. The boys are fine. Besides, you have far more that you
should
be
worried about than those boys.”

A cold chill chased up his spine, leaving the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. “Do I?” He watched her closely for a clue as to what she meant, but if there was one thing he admired most about his great-aunt Trudi, it was her ability to hide her thoughts behind a truly blank expression.

“Why don't you help me bring those planters inside and I'll make us a nice cup of tea?”

Tea was the last thing he wanted right now. What he wanted was to drive over to Meg's apartment, storm up the stairs, take her in his arms, and—

“Daniel?” His aunt was tugging on his arm.

“Hmmm?” Great, now he was daydreaming about the woman who'd turned him inside out and backward… the one he'd slammed the brakes on the possibility of a relationship with.

She slipped her arm through his and patted his hand. “Come on, dear,” she said. “I've got a lovely blend of Darjeeling, so soothing.”

“What about the stuff you want me to move?”

“You can move it later.”

He let himself be led, not so eager to speak to her now that he knew there was something his aunt thought he needed to know. She puttered around in her kitchen. He offered to help, but she refused, motioning him into one of the chairs surrounding the round oak table by the picture window.

Dan sat and wondered how she managed things all by herself. “Who winterizes your house?”

She paused and set the tea kettle back on the burner. “I do.”

“These windows are so old, they can't be double-paned.”

She smiled. “I usually put a nice thick plastic on the inside of the windows. Keeps the warm air on the inside.”

“What about the plumbing?”

She shook her head and picked up the kettle, pouring hot water into the waiting teapot. When she was finished she carried the pot to the table and placed it on an iron trivet. “You're going to love this tea. We just need to let it sit for a few minutes. While we wait,” she said, meeting his gaze, “I'd like to talk to you about Megan.”

Damn, she knew! “What about her?”

“There's a lot of history here that you might need to understand before you get involved with her.”

An image of Meg perched on the edge of her countertop flashed in his mind, distracting him.

“Daniel!”

“Huh?”

His aunt frowned up at him. “Well. That certainly answers my next question. Don't you think you should have courted the girl first?”

Fishing to see just how thorough the gossip chain in Apple Grove was, he asked, “First before what?”

His aunt got up and started to pace around the kitchen, and he couldn't help but notice that she looked like an indignant fairy, but he wasn't about to tell her that. “Just because there's snow on the roof, doesn't mean there isn't a fire inside, young man.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and when they did, he was speechless. He had no idea what to say and no desire to discuss sex with his great-aunt. So he did what any red-blooded American man would do when faced with this type of a situation: he changed the subject.

“So Aunt Trudi, I was at the sheriff's office before and noticed he was upset about Honey B. signing up at a dating site. Why would that be?”

She took the bait, hook, line, and sinker. “Was he angry or upset? Upset means she got his attention, angry means he really does care.”