Can't Hurry Love

by Melinda Curtis

  Drew knew he wouldn’t sleep that night.

  Jane was back. And the things she wanted…

  No. Absolutely not.

  * * *

  “You wanted to see me, Sheriff?” Rupert Harper was a third-generation lawyer with aspirations to be a second-generation judge.

  Those aspirations meant Rupert lived a conservative life, one that wasn’t too austere or too flashy. Still, he had to be at least fifty, and there wasn’t a gray hair on his head. He wore a dark suit, wool so fine it had to have cost a month of Drew’s salary. A vacation to the Bahamas had left Rupert looking tan and rested.

  Anyone would look more rested than Drew the morning after Jane’s return to town.

  Rupert had arrived at the sheriff’s office just as Drew finished walking Rosie.

  Drew ushered Rupert into a seat and closed the door, explaining the situation with Jane. “All she wants is a sugar daddy to take her back to Nashville. She doesn’t want to be a mother.” Drew might have repeated that sentiment more than once.

  Rupert nodded, tapping something into his cell phone. “Does Jane have a record?”

  “Of course she does,” Drew said, realizing he’d worked himself up into a near panic. He took a slow breath. “Marijuana and indecent exposure.”

  “I hear you’re dating Wendy Adams. Good choice, considering.” Rupert handed Drew a sheet of paper. “Marriage will definitely help you out. Sign this agreement, and I’ll take your case.”

  Drew looked it over without reaching for a pen. “Just so you know, I called your brother, Oliver, when I heard you were out of town, but he was unavailable.”

  “No surprise there. Oliver and I agree to be out of town at the same time every year to level the playing field.” Rupert’s smile was wide and sharklike. He and his brother being the only two attorneys in town, it was a coin toss as to which one would be chosen when the need for legal representation arose. “What might surprise you is that Oliver took Jane’s case.”

  “What?” Drew felt as if Rosie were sitting on his chest. He’d assumed Jane couldn’t afford legal representation. He scanned Rupert’s agreement. “There’s nothing on here about fees.”

  “If you have to ask, you consider money more important than your daughter.” Rupert’s cell phone buzzed. He checked the display. “You’re in luck. My father is willing to see you now.”

  “Why would that be lucky?”

  “Because apparently, he’s with Jane.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  As much as Jane had looked like a polished country star last night, this morning she looked like a young woman who’d never left Sunshine.

  Big green eyes, artfully tousled hair, blue jeans, and a white T-shirt. She sat demurely in a chair in Judge Harper’s chambers, trying to look innocent.

  Lucky for Drew, Judge Harper wasn’t the kind of man to fall for an innocent appearance.

  A century or so before, the old man would’ve been labeled a hanging judge. The silver-tipped cowboy boots and black bolo tie with a turquoise clip enhanced the impression that Judge Harper was from another era.

  Part of the reason crime was so low in the area was that Judge Harper believed in alternative sentencing. When you came into court, he gave you a choice—jail time or a punishment of his own making.

  Steal someone’s bicycle? You might find yourself walking around the high school track for twenty miles. Drunk and disorderly? If you were an annoyance, you might find yourself locked in a jail cell for twelve hours with one song playing loudly on repeat. Steal from your boss? You might find yourself standing next to the road out of town on a Saturday with a sign that said you were a thief.

  With sentencing like that, no one wanted to go back in front of him.

  Tension sat at the base of Drew’s throat, loaded with arguments he could spring on Jane.

  Rupert sat to Drew’s right in the judge’s chambers, which were darkly paneled and somber.

  Rupert’s brother, Oliver, sat to Jane’s left. Oliver seemed to be wearing the same high-quality suit as his younger brother but he didn’t look as sophisticated. His tie was too wide and a dirty gray color. He’d also gotten sun on vacation but his skin wasn’t the smooth tan Rupert had achieved. He had the shiny red skin of a man who’d forgotten sunscreen.

  Judge Harper cleared his throat, sounding like Bob Lumley’s ’57 Chevy. He looked like he hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much, unlike his vacationing sons. He scowled at the assembled. “Well?” The judge stared at Jane. “Six years ago, you said I was done with you.”

  “A lot can happen in six years,” Jane said quietly, staring at her clasped hands as if she folded those hands together every Sunday at church.

  Drew struggled to sit still.

  “A lot has happened.” The judge flipped through a folder. “Rebecca Maureen Taylor won a sack race at the county fair in the Under Five division. She fell attempting to climb a tree in the town square and sprained her wrist. She’s about to star in the lower grades’ annual school play.” He stared at Jane over the top of his round reading glasses. “Did you know any of this?”

  “No,” Jane said, hands clenching.

  Drew derived some level of satisfaction from Jane being outed as an absentee mother. But it was a small measure and did nothing to ease the tension gripping the base of his neck.

  The judge rocked back in his big leather chair, steepling his hands in front of his chest. “Is that because you didn’t ask?”

  “Yes.” Her voice seemed very small now.

  Beside Drew, Rupert relaxed and smiled at his brother.

  “Now, before you resort to tears…” Judge Harper held up a gnarled and spotted hand. “And before my son decides he’s won a case that has yet to be filed…” He shot Rupert a stern look. “I respect a parent’s right to be involved in their child’s life.”

  Now it was Jane who relaxed. Jane who smiled.

  Drew felt his gut wind into a tight little ball.

  Judge Harper rested his elbows on the desk. “But first, the court needs to determine if the parent who signed away rights to Becky will be a good influence.”

  “Dad.” Oliver wasn’t as distinguished as his younger brother, Rupert, but he had the Harper killer instinct, as evidenced by his take-no-prisoners tone. “Not another one of your tests.”

  The judge slapped the top of his desk with the flat of his hand. “I’m Judge Harper while I’m in the courthouse.”

  Had Drew thought Judge Harper looked worn out? Anger sparked in the old man’s gray eyes.

  Rupert smirked at his brother. Oliver smirked back.

  The fire in Judge Harper’s eyes turned on Jane. “Young lady, you left your child and never looked back for six long years. Do you know what it’s like to be abandoned like that? To be left?”

  Jane gave a little half shrug.

  “Well, you’re going to know now. For the next week, you’ll be spending your days looking for work, and you’ll be spending your nights camping out on the land the cemetery annexed last year, checked on every night by the sheriff’s department.”

  “What?” Jane’s hands moved to the arms of her chair, as if she was going to push herself out of it and do something impulsive.

  Oliver’s hand came down on her arm.

  “You’ll find out what it means to be on your own—”

  “I know what it feels like to be on my own,” Jane said hotly, jerking her arm free from Oliver’s grip.

  “And”—the judge raised his voice to a near shout—“you’ll know what it’s like to be alone and forgotten.”

  “Becky wasn’t forgotten.” Jane was digging her own grave. “She had Drew and his family. And my parents. I was the one who was forgotten.” She tapped her chest. “Me.”

  Oliver shushed her but most likely the only reason Jane stopped speaking was because she’d run out of things to say.

  Rupert wore a grin the size of China.

  “I don’t think anyone in Sunshine ever forgot you,” Judge
Harper said gruffly. “My assistant has what you need to camp. You’ll return the supplies in the condition you borrowed them in, or there will be further consequences.”

  Oliver cleared his throat. “Judge Harper—”

  “If you do this”—the judge coughed and then worked hard to clear his throat—“I’m granting supervised visits while in Sunshine.”

  “What?” Drew couldn’t believe it. He gave Jane a contemptuous look. “After everything she’s said and done?”

  “Daily visits,” the judge said firmly. “Of up to one hour in length. We’ll reconvene next week, and each of you will submit to further review.”

  Now Drew knew how a driver caught speeding felt—trapped. “I’ll need time to prepare Becky.”

  “One day,” Judge Harper allowed. “Two max.”

  Drew thanked the judge and left the office.

  “This is a good thing.” Rupert followed him out, a bounce to his step. “As is your dating Wendy.”

  “Is it?” Drew barely kept himself from slamming the outer office door against the wall.

  “Yes. If Jane’s not good for your daughter, you’ll know it. And if by some twist of fate she is, you’ll know it. I know you, Sheriff. You’re a good judge of people. And you’re fair.” Rupert walked down the hall toward the courtroom and a waiting defendant, Ellery Finkle, who’d been charged with drunk and disorderly conduct.

  “Fair?” Drew didn’t want to be fair. He wanted to play dirty.

  It was time to get serious about Wendy.

  * * *

  “My kids are in love with you.” Mary Margaret hung her dress next to Lola’s fashion-show outfit in the room beneath the stage at the high school. “The boys all want horns like you did for Caden, and the girls are dreaming of fairy makeup.”

  “Your class is adorable.” Lola meant it. She couldn’t wait for the next rehearsal with those five- and six-year-olds. It helped that Mary Margaret seemed to have forgotten the hug Lola had given her. “And your dress is lovely.”

  “It is, isn’t it?” The kindergarten teacher held it up to admire it. Mary Margaret had been given a midcalf midnight-blue sleeveless sheath. It would show off her cover-model figure and provide a rich contrast to that mane of red hair. “I wish I could afford it.” Her expression wavered between wistfulness and melancholy. Word was just now spreading about the debt her husband had left her with. “Three hundred dollars. Yeesh. How much is yours?”

  “Three seventy-five.” Lola wouldn’t be buying her outfit either. She’d been given a robin’s-egg-blue formfitting pantsuit with a sleeveless tunic and a cream-colored scarf. The ruby earring she’d found in Randy’s keepsake box was going to stand out on that scarf and look like an antique brooch. Only Randy’s lover would recognize it for what it was.

  And this time, if anyone asked Lola for it, she was giving it to them. She still had a bruise on her backside from falling on the table at the bake sale.

  “I drove by your house the other day.” Mary Margaret looked around to see who might overhear and lowered her voice. “Loved the couple in the window.”

  Her praise went a long way to settling Lola’s nerves. “My husband bought them. It’s kind of my revenge for him being a jerk, you know? They’ve been up for more than a week, and I’m starting to talk to them.” Starting? That was a stretch. “Do you think that’s weird?”

  “No.” Mary Margaret took Lola’s arm and leaned in close as if they were best friends sharing secrets. “People talk to plants. My mother-in-law talks to her dog.” She had a sweet smile but it turned mischievous. “If you want to talk to somebody who’ll talk back, come to Shaw’s on Sunday afternoons. You’ll fit right in with the girls.”

  Lola nodded. Sunday afternoons at Shaw’s. Avery might be there. Lola had been too busy to track her down to apologize in person.

  “Question.” Drew’s sister Priscilla had been given a black cocktail dress with a plunging neckline. She had curves and filled out every inch of the dress. “Should I hitch the dress up?” Priscilla tugged the shoulders and turned her torso from side to side. “Or pull it down?” She tugged the dress at her hips.

  “It rides more naturally up,” Lola said diplomatically.

  “Up, definitely,” Mary Margaret agreed. “Otherwise it bunches over your hips and makes your butt look big.”

  “It does not.” Priscilla swatted playfully at Mary Margaret’s arm and then tugged the dress down. “Does it?”

  Mary Margaret assured her she’d been teasing.

  “When you’re done with those dolls in your window,” Pris said, nudging Lola’s shoulder, “I’d like to borrow them. They’d drive my brother crazy.”

  No matter what happened in her search for Randy’s mistresses, Lola would always remember this day. She belonged to a club that included her in fund-raisers. She’d been invited to hang out at a bar. And she had friends again.

  While Lola changed, her gaze strayed to the corner where Avery sat alone, as far away from Lola as she could get. She wore a vintage-style white dress with lace cap sleeves and an A-line skirt. She looked like a 1950s bride. Her hair should have been styled in wraparound braids with a few wisps of hair framing her face and softening that scowl.

  Holding a wedding bouquet, Mims walked over to Avery. “How did you end up with this dress?” She frowned and searched the room until her gaze found Wendy in the opposite corner with her back to them all as she put on makeup. She wore a floor-length black satin gown. It was a look Avery would have rocked. Obviously, there’d been a mix-up somewhere.

  “It’s too late to change now,” Bitsy said brightly as she zipped Darcy Jones into a denim jumpsuit.

  “I suppose…” Mims didn’t sound convinced.

  Avery’s shoulders rounded. She snatched the bouquet from Mims’s hands.

  “Where’s Edith?” Mims marched over to where the purple evening gown with feathers still hung from a rack, leaving Avery alone once more.

  Lola’s heart went out to her. Avery needed some TLC. This was a fashion show but that didn’t mean Avery’s hair couldn’t look fabulous. She walked over to Avery’s corner, intending to apologize. “Hey.”

  Avery’s back was to Lola. She stiffened beneath all that lace but didn’t turn.

  “That dress is beautiful.” Lola took a few steps closer. “How about I pin up your hair?”

  “Nobody touches Avery’s hair but me.” Barbara’s blond hair was slicked back into a severe ponytail, and her makeup was flawless. The mayor’s wife stared down her nose at Lola, intimidating the curl right out of Lola’s hair.

  Not today. That was what Lola should have said. Not today, Barbara. Avery needs me.

  Instead, Lola shuffled her feet. “I…uh…”

  Avery still hadn’t turned around.

  “I think Avery would look lovely with an updo,” Lola said meekly.

  Barbara blew out a puff of air in apparent disgust. “There’s no time for that. Her hair is fine as is. And if there were time, she’d need a style more sophisticated than you could achieve with pin curls.”

  Lola felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

  When Barbara sauntered off and Avery still said nothing, Lola turned away and clipped the antique ruby earring onto her scarf.

  * * *

  “Smile at Wendy when she comes out,” Drew’s mother said from her seat next to her son at the fashion show. “You should have gotten her flowers. Women love flowers.”

  “Mom, I don’t need your dating advice.” Drew intended to smile at Wendy. There was no way she wouldn’t see him smiling in his front-row seat. And with Becky at his side, his mother was going to see Wendy smiling too.

  Seats were filling rapidly in the high school gymnasium, and the volume of the crowd’s conversations was rising. The fashion show was starting soon.

  “It’s been a long time since you dated.” His mom waved at Augie and Rowena Bruce, who’d sat down on the other side of the runway.

  “It’s been longer for you, Mom.�
��

  “Sheriff.” Tom Bodine tapped his shoulder and leaned close. “Jane applied for a job at my butcher business.” He gave Drew’s shoulder a squeeze and Drew’s mother a thumbs-up. “I told her we weren’t hiring.” Tom moved on without waiting for Drew’s response.

  The protective father in Drew wanted to cheer. No job meant Jane couldn’t stay. But the sheriff in him, the man who played fair and did the right thing, knew what Tom had done was wrong.

  “Friends have been calling all day to tell me Jane’s back,” his mom said, trying to be heard without shouting. “And, like Tom, no one will hire her, out of loyalty to you.” She sighed. “I almost feel sorry for her.”

  “Let’s not go that far.” Drew jerked back in his seat because his mother wasn’t above contacting Tom and asking him to reconsider Jane’s request for work. “She wants to return to Nashville. Do you want Becky to go with her?”

  “Go with who?” Becky piped up. She was becoming a class-A eavesdropper.

  Drew didn’t say. He hadn’t told Becky yet that Jane was back in town, and now wasn’t the time.

  “Sweet, sweet child.” Edith appeared before them. She wore a pink terry bathrobe and black flip-flops. She grabbed Becky’s hand. “Can I borrow you?” Without waiting for Drew’s approval, Edith led his daughter away.

  “What do you suppose that’s all about?” his mom asked.

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Drew said.

  Mims stepped up to the podium and called for quiet. She wore a bright-green dress, a black silk jacket, and her usual broad-faced grin. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to the Twelfth Annual Widows Club Fashion Show to benefit our college scholarship fund. If you’ve been chomping at the bit for the snow to melt and your social life to resume, have we got ideas for you! But first, let’s give a warm welcome to our emcee, Mayor Kevin Hadley.”

  As the applause died down and the music began to play, Drew’s mother said, “I’d date a man like Kevin. But there are no single men like him on the market.”

  “You mean no men your age,” Drew corrected.

  “No.” She volleyed the word back at him sharply. “If Kevin were single, I’d make a move on him.”