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Spring Texas Bride (The Brides 0f Bliss Tx. Book 1) Page 17
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“Is it your new deputy, Tucker? I’ve been looking forward to meeting him. He sounds like a nice young man. Even if he is a little overzealous. You were overzealous too when you first started—”
He cut in because his mother could ramble on forever. Just like someone else he knew. “It’s a woman.”
There was a long stretch of silence before his mother released a squeal that almost broke his eardrum. “Thank the Lord! My prayers have been answered. Who is she? Does she live in Bliss? Please don’t tell me it’s Winnie Crawley? No, I take that back. If she makes you happy, I don’t care if it’s Winnie.”
“It’s not Winnie. You’ve never met her, but you’ve talked to her on the phone.”
“Your new assistant? I was hoping you’d fall head over heels in love with that sweet little gal.”
He started to correct his mother, but then realized that she was right. He had fallen head over heels in love with Spring. He’d known it for a long time. He just hadn’t put it into words. It was surprising how good it felt when he did.
“I do love her, Mom.”
“Oh, Waylon,” his mother’s voice held joy and tears. “I’m so happy for you, son. And if you love her, I know I’ll love her too. I’m halfway there already after talking to her on the phone. Now give me all the details.”
He had never been good at giving his mother details about his other girlfriends, but he found he had no problem talking about Spring. By the time he ended the conversation, his mother probably thought he was a lovesick fool. But he didn’t care. He wanted to tell everyone about his feelings for Spring. He wanted to walk down the street with her on his arm and let the whole world know that she was his girl.
But first he needed to tell Spring.
He wanted to do it right. Red roses. A romantic dinner in Austin. While he was looking up florists on his computer, Luke called. And since the kid only texted him when he wanted to practice baseball, Waylon got a little concerned.
“What’s up, Luke? Everything okay at home?”
“Yeah. I mean Raff is driving Savannah crazy with his overprotectiveness, but other than that, things are good.”
“Did you want to meet this afternoon?” Luke didn’t need any more instruction. The last few games he’d played great, and the team had a good chance of going to the state playoffs. And maybe that’s why Luke had called. He was feeling nervous and just needed some reassurance. “Although you don’t really need my help anymore. You’ve been doing an amazing job in center field. And that double you hit was crucial to winning the last game.”
“Thanks,” Luke said. There was another long pause before he added. “Actually, I’m calling to tell you thanks for coaching me. I know I wasn’t exactly cool about it to begin with. And I just wanted you to know I appreciate the help.”
Waylon smiled. “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it as much as you did. If you ever want to toss the ball around after school, you let me know.”
“I can’t. I’ve started doing homework after school with Cheryl Gibbs.”
Waylon’s smile got bigger. “Yep, you don’t want those grades to slide. And Cheryl Gibbs seems like a smart young lady . . . pretty too.” There was a tap on his door, and Spring peeked her head in.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”
Talk about pretty girls. Just the sight of Spring made Waylon’s heart beat faster. And suddenly, he realized he couldn’t wait until dinner to let her know how he felt. “Thanks for calling, Luke. But I better get back to work.”
Once he’d hung up, he stood and came around his desk. “Is there something you needed, Miss Hadley?” There was something he needed. Her. In his arms. Forever. But before he could bring that up, he noticed her pale face and serious expression. He was instantly concerned. “What’s wrong? Did you have a relapse of the flu?”
She shook her head. “I just need to talk to you.”
His shouldered relaxed. “That’s funny because I need to talk to you too. But ladies first.”
She fidgeted with the skirt of her dress. “Remember when you came out to the—” The sound of the front door opening had her cutting off and glancing behind her. “Could I help you?”
Sheriff Dan Wainwright appeared. He was an older sheriff from the next county who was close friends with Waylon’s father. Waylon immediately walked over to shake his hand and greet him. “Hey, Dan. It’s good to see you. This is my new assistant, Spring Hadley. Spring, this is Sheriff Dan Wainwright.”
Dan had always been a jolly sheriff, much more easygoing than Waylon’s father. But he seemed almost hesitant when he took off his hat and nodded at Spring. “Ma’am.” He looked at Waylon. “Could I speak with you in private, Way?”
Obviously, he was there on serious business. Waylon nodded. “Of course. If you’ll excuse us, Miss Hadley.”
“It was nice to meet you, Sheriff Wainwright,” she said before she stepped out the door and closed it behind her.
When she was gone, Waylon walked around his desk and sat down. “What’s going on, Dan?”
Dan sat down in the chair and hooked his hat on his knee. His eyes widened when he glanced at the computer screen that was still turned at an angle. Waylon remembered the half-naked cowboy screensaver and quickly turned the monitor. But it was too late. If his confused expression was any indication, Dan had already seen it.
“It was just a joke,” Waylon said lamely.
Dan seemed at a loss for words. “That’s . . . real funny.” Since more excuses would only make things worse, Waylon kept his mouth shut and waited for Dan to explain why he was there. It didn’t take him long. “Did Holt Hadley ever show up here?”
Waylon shook his head. “No. I would’ve called Mike if he had.”
Dan nodded. “I figured as much.” He tapped his hat on his knee. “They found him. Like most everyone had figured, Holt was headed for the border. New Mexico state patrol picked him up outside of Las Cruces.”
Damn. He wished Dan had waited a day to give him the information. Now he’d have to tell Spring. And that certainly threw a wet blanket on his plans to tell her that he loved her. He had little doubt that Spring would be upset about her father’s arrest.
“Thanks for stopping by to let me know, Dan.”
Dan continued to tap his hat. “That’s not the reason I stopped by. Holt got so far because he had ditched his car and was driving another vehicle.”
“He stole a car?”
“We don’t think he stole it. We think it was given to him.”
Waylon rested his hands on the desk. “Are you thinking that Dirk gave him a car and then lied about it? He’s not that kind of man. Besides, Dirk and his wife Gracie only have four vehicles, and I’ve seen all of them in town in the last week.”
Dan studied Waylon. “I don’t think it was his son who gave Holt a vehicle. It was his daughter.”
Waylon was surprised. “Autumn or Summer?”
He glanced at the closed door. “Neither.”
When the truth dawned on him, Waylon shook his head. “You’re way off track on this one, Dan. Spring has been here in Bliss for the last two months. She hasn’t seen her father. If she had, she would’ve told me.”
Dan held Waylon’s gaze. “The white Jeep Holt was driving was registered to Spring Leigh Hadley.”
Waylon felt his insides tighten. “Then he must’ve stolen it.”
“Spring’s Jeep was reported stolen?”
Waylon suddenly felt like he had when he’d gotten the flu—off-balance and unable to put his thoughts in any kind of coherent order. Or maybe he just refused to see the picture all the pieces had fallen into. Spring hadn’t said a word about her Jeep being stolen. She had claimed it had broken down. Which was why she was driving Dirk’s old ranch truck. But if her Jeep was broken why wasn’t it at Emmett’s garage?
“Holt was also found with a trailer,” Dan said. “One of those tiny vintage ones. Pink with Spring Fling written across the back.” When
Waylon only stared at him, he released his breath in a long sigh. “Damn, Way. I thought you weren’t the type of man to get sucked in by a pair of pretty blue eyes.” He shook his head. “I thought your daddy taught you better.”
His father had taught him better. But Waylon was obviously a slow learner. Even now he couldn’t quite believe it. But the proof was in the pudding, as his mother always said. And everything pointed to Spring helping her fugitive father to escape the country . . . and then lying to Waylon about it.
He glanced at the office door. “Are you here to arrest her?”
Dan studied him. “No. I’m here because your daddy is my friend. And I don’t want this coming back to bite you in the ass. You should know that as sheriff, you’re constantly under a microscope. You can’t move without people talking. And the talk is that you and your assistant have started playing house. Now that would be okay if she was a sweet hometown girl who didn’t break the law. But Spring abetted a fugitive. And if you don’t want shit on your face, you need to fire her before the feds get here to question her.” He got up and put his hat on. “And we never had this conversation.” He turned and walked out.
When he was gone, Waylon fell back in his chair and ran a hand through this hair. There had to be a mistake. The Spring he knew wasn’t a criminal or a liar. She was sweet and kind and honest.
“Waylon?”
The softly spoken word made his insides tighten. He looked up and saw Spring standing in the doorway.
“Where are your Jeep and trailer, Spring?”
Her face grew even paler, and the guilt in her eyes was easy to read. Still, he couldn’t accept the truth. Because if he accepted it, everything she’d made him believe in would be nothing but a lie. And he couldn’t deal with that. He damn well couldn’t deal with it. So he just sat there and didn’t say anything. He didn’t ask for an explanation or the truth because he didn’t want either. He wanted things to stay the same.
But then Spring spoke, and everything changed. “My father has them.”
He wanted to cover his ears and shout at her to shut up. Instead he sat there while the woman he thought he knew turned into someone he didn’t know at all.
“But you have to believe me, Waylon,” she continued in a pleading voice. “I didn’t know he was running from the law. When he showed up, he acted like he just wanted to go camping with me. And I should’ve known something was wrong when he hid in the bathroom the night you came to my trailer.”
He stared at her. “He was there that night I came to the trailer? The night I smelled the cigarette smoke?”
“Yes.”
He finally woke up from the trance he’d been in. “You lied. You lied about it all. The cigarette smoke. Your trailer. Your Jeep.”
She moved closer to the desk. “But only because I didn’t want Dirk to find out my daddy was there and start a family squabble. I didn’t keep the secret from you to hide my father from the law. I swear I would never put your job in jeopardy like that. I just fell for my daddy’s lie. I’m just a stupid, gullible ditz.”
He shook head. “I don’t believe you. Because the woman who’s worked for me the last few weeks is far from gullible. She’s intelligent, capable, and intuitive enough to know a lie when she sees one. If hiding in your bathroom when I showed up wasn’t a big enough clue that he was on the lam, stealing your Jeep and trailer should’ve been. But he didn’t steal it, did he, Spring? You gave them both to him, and then you straight faced lied to me about it.”
Her eyes widened. “How can you say that?”
His gaze locked with hers. “How can I not?”
Tears welled and trickled down her cheeks, but he refused to fall for that ploy again. “I thought you knew me,” she whispered. “I thought you knew me better than anyone. But you don’t know me at all.”
He turned his back to her and stared at the sheriff’s creed on the wall. “You’re right. I don’t know you. And I don’t want to know you. You’re fired, Miss Hadley. I want you gone today. Right now.”
He waited for her to say something. Waited for her to plead her case. And maybe he wasn’t waiting as much as praying. Praying that she’d say something that would make everything right. But she didn’t. After the clock had ticked through a full minute, he finally glanced over his shoulder.
Spring was gone.
And all that was left was a harsh, cold winter.
Chapter Twenty-One
Granny Bon’s house had changed very little since Spring had lived there. The front path was still buckled from the roots of the big oak tree that she and her siblings had climbed. The porch swing still squeaked loudly enough to alert Granny of any overzealous teenage boys attempting to kiss her granddaughters. And inside, the walls still held the scent of Granny’s favorite lavender air freshener . . . and love.
Spring had thought that returning to Granny Bon’s house in Waco would make her feel better, but it didn’t. Not even her sisters snuggled on either side of her made her feel better. When she’d left Houston, she’d felt like two of her limbs were missing. But now she felt like her entire heart was missing. There was a huge hole in her chest that couldn’t be filled by her sisters. Only one person could fill it. And that person was never going to talk to her again.
Tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks as she stared at the ceiling above the bed. There was old tape on the popcorn plaster from all the posters of boy band idols Spring had taped up, a few spidery cracks from where Summer had misjudged her softball tosses, and one faded photograph of their mama that Autumn had tacked up.
The triplets looked just like Dotty Hadley. Same jet-black hair. Same deep blue eyes. Same full lips. But her mother’s personality traits had been divided between the three of them. Summer had gotten her determination and tenacity. Autumn had gotten her love of books and calm disposition. And Spring had gotten her weakness for believing Holt Hadley’s lies.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she believe that her father just wanted to go on a fishing trip to Mexico? He probably hadn’t fished a day in his life. And why hadn’t she been more suspicious when he’d gotten so freaked out when Waylon showed up? She should’ve known something was wrong when Holt had hidden in the bathroom. It was true that Dirk would’ve been upset if he’d found out Holt had been there, but her father had never cared about upsetting Dirk before. Or keeping peace in the family. Spring was the only one who worried about that. And if she hadn’t been so determined to bring her family back together, she wouldn’t be lying there with a hole in her chest. She’d be back in Bliss making Waylon his morning coffee.
She’d really screwed up this time. It was one thing to leave a door unlocked and another to straight-faced lie to a sheriff. Especially when you loved that sheriff with all your heart. Waylon had trusted her, and she’d betrayed that trust. She’d seen the hurt from that betrayal in his eyes. And she hadn’t just hurt him emotionally. She’d hurt him professionally. Before she left, the town was abuzz with gossip about how the sheriff had been bamboozled by Holt Hadley and his daughter. All Waylon had wanted was for the townsfolk to respect him, and Spring had taken all their respect and flushed it right down the toilet.
A double rap on the door drew her attention away from her thoughts. She knew the rap. She’d heard it hundreds of times before. She also knew it would be followed by her Granny Bon peeking her head in. Not wanting to talk to her grandmother, she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. She should’ve known better. Nothing got past Granny Bon.
A second after the door creaked open, Granny Bon spoke. “I know you’re awake, Spring Leigh. You never were good at pretense.”
Spring opened her eyes to see her grandmother standing at the foot of the bed. She was dressed for work in her polyester black pants and floral top. Her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a braid. She had never worn makeup, and her face held very few wrinkles. Of course, both she and her daughter had been teen mothers so she was young for a woman with adult grandkids.
“Breakfast is ready,” she said in her no-nonsense voice. “Don’t wake your sisters. I want to talk to you alone.” Then she swept out of the room without giving Spring a chance to decline. Not that it would’ve done any good. When Granny gave an order, you followed it. And there was little doubt that her grandmother had ordered her to breakfast.
Since there was no way out of it, she carefully untangled herself from her sisters. Summer was hardest to get away from. For being such a hard-ass, she was the biggest cuddler. She grumbled in her sleep as Spring slipped beneath her arm, then snuggled closer to Autumn and went back to sleep.
When Spring got to the breakfast table, Granny Bon was sitting and reading the morning newspaper as if she had no desire to talk. Two places were set with Granny’s usual breakfast—a bowl of steel-cut oats with blueberries, a slice of whole-wheat toast with no butter, and a glass of orange juice with no pulp. Granny’s orange juice was in a juice glass. Spring’s was in a Disney princess glass. One of the same Disney princess glasses Holt had given her and her sisters on their sixth birthday. It was the only birthday gift they’d ever received from him. Just the sight of it made Spring want to swipe it off the table and send it crashing to the floor.
“I won’t drink out of that glass,” she said between clenched teeth.
Granny Bon’s gray eyes peeked over the edge of the newspaper. “Sorry, but the other glasses are dirty. And sometimes we just have to drink out of the glasses we’re given.”
There was a lesson in there somewhere. There was always a lesson with Granny Bon. But Spring was too upset to figure it out. “I hate him.” She flopped down in the chair. “I really, really hate him.”
Granny Bon carefully folded the newspaper and tucked it under the plastic napkin holder in the center of the table. “No, you don’t. You love him. Which is where all your anger comes from. We want the people we love to be perfect. But that’s just not how life works. Your daddy isn’t perfect. In fact, he’s about as imperfect as a man can get. That doesn’t mean you get to hate him. Hate is worse for the hater than it is for the person being hated.”