The Deputy's Perfect Match (Love Inspired)

by Lisa Carter

  She withdrew from Mrs. Davenport’s embrace and started for the door only to stop short. “But the library... I can’t—”

  “Yes, you can.” Mrs. Davenport fingered the pearls at her throat. “As the chairwoman of the Kiptohanock Library Committee, I’m sure I can check out a few books and keep the lights burning for our patrons as long as I’m needed.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Mrs. Davenport fluttered her hands toward the door. “Go. Just go.”

  Evy grabbed her purse. Prayers, a litany of petitions for Charlie’s well-being, flooded her mind.

  “Keep your cell phone on.” Mrs. Davenport took Evy’s customary spot behind the checkout desk. “I’m putting in a call to Jolene. She’ll have answers neither you or I will have access to. I’ll have her meet you in ER and take care of you from that end.”

  Evy stumbled toward the door. Her hand on the knob, she paused. “Thank you, Mrs. Davenport.” She fought to keep from losing it again. “For everything.” She pushed her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose as she ran out of the library.

  Chapter Ten

  Throwing herself into her car, Evy hastened out of Kiptohanock. Down Seaside Road, she clattered over the tiny bridge at Quinby. Pulling onto Highway 13, she broke without compunction every speed limit on the way to the hospital.

  She figured every law enforcement officer was probably further south, mopping up the situation. But she couldn’t have been more mistaken.

  Evy barreled into the emergency room. A sea of Accomack County Sheriff’s Department uniforms filled the waiting area. She halted her headlong flight and chewed her lip.

  The smell of antiseptic flooded her senses. Her gaze swept the waiting room. Before her, a gauntlet of khaki brown. State trooper gray, too. Where was Jolene?

  One of the officers—a state trooper—broke away from the pack and came toward Evy.

  Tensing, she widened her stance even with her hips. This was America. A free country. And nobody was throwing her out of here. Not until she’d made sure Charlie was okay.

  The trooper—in his late twenties like Charlie—smiled. “Are you Evy Shaw?”

  “Yes...”

  Her eyes darted to the others, their faces impassive. Except for a mutual leashed anger. And concern. Adrenaline vibrated between the men and women.

  “How do you—”

  “I’m Thad Walters. Charlie and I partner sometimes on interagency situations. He told me about you.”

  She blinked against the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. Her heart hammered. Charlie talked about her to his friends? And she was ridiculously pleased.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  Another smile. “He described you to a T. The heels. The skirt. The glasses. The ponytail.” Officer Walters steered her toward the others. “How pretty you are. And smart.”

  The circle opened. Admitting her as a member. And closed again.

  “Is Charlie...? Can you tell me...?” Tears pricked the edges of her lashes. “He’s not dead. Don’t tell me he’s dead.”

  “No, ma’am. We’re waiting for the nurse to come out of the examining room. But he was conscious when the EMTs arrived.”

  She put a shaky hand to her throat.

  “You need to sit down. Before you fall down.” Walters eased Evy into a chair and then leaned against the nearby wall. The at-ease posture so reminiscent of Charlie that her breath caught. Perhaps no one in law enforcement did stand up straight.

  “We established a roadblock at the bridge.” A Northampton deputy rested his hands on his gun belt. “No way we were letting them off the peninsula. Not on our watch.”

  Thad Walters nodded. “Charlie’s car took the lead. And the morons—”

  “I believe you mean the alleged morons, Officer Walters.” An older man’s lips quirked.

  Judging from the pins on his shirt, someone higher in the law enforcement food chain. And then Evy recognized him from his picture in newspaper articles. The Accomack County sheriff.

  Walters rolled his tongue in his cheek. “My bad. The alleged morons fired. Took out one of Charlie’s tires. At the high rate of speed, the vehicle flipped—”

  Evy closed her eyes at the image of a car hurtling out of control. Of Charlie wrestling with the steering wheel. The vehicle, with him inside, rolling over and over.

  There would’ve been sounds of grinding metal. The crashing thud of impact as the patrol car settled upside down on the asphalt. An air bag deploying.

  Despite his toughness, he must have been so scared. She was so scared for him. For the first time in her life, Evy wished she didn’t have such a vivid imagination. That she hadn’t gone through a phase of reading police thrillers five years ago.

  “You guys should work on your bedside manner.”

  At Jolene’s voice, the men and women—including Evy—rose from the chairs.

  Evy elbowed the taller men out of her way. “Jolene?”

  In her green hospital scrubs, Jolene exuded her own authority. They were in her jurisdiction now. “He’s going to be okay.”

  Evy clutched the strap of her shoulder bag. Thank you. Oh, thank You, God.

  The officers exhaled. Several lifted their faces to the ceiling. Their lips worked silently.

  Jolene gave her a hug. “He’s blessed. No spinal trauma. Some bruised ribs, which will make him wonder if he’s going to die after all. Possibly a slight concussion. After examining the results of the MRI and X-rays, the doctor is writing a prescription for pain medication.”

  “You’re sure he’s okay?”

  Dixie and the love of her life, Bernie, charged full tilt into the waiting room. The Sandpiper waitress shouldered through the band of brothers. Apologizing on her behalf, Bernie, a middle-aged engineer from Wallops Island, followed in her wake, gripping a cell phone.

  “One morning off,” Dixie huffed. “And chaos erupts in my absence. Bernie and I were out on the boat and didn’t hear the news till I returned my books to the library. Mrs. Davenport said to tell you she’s fine. And I promised to give her the details. Which would be what, Jolene?”

  “A possible concussion. He’ll need monitoring for twenty-four hours.” Jolene shrugged. “But otherwise nothing to keep him from returning to the chip-on-his-handsome-shoulder Charles Pruitt we’ve come to know and love.”

  Evy sank into the chair.

  Walters turned his hat around in his hands. “Is he okay for company?”

  “Only a few while we’re putting together his discharge papers.”

  Walters, the sheriff and the Northampton deputy moved toward the curtained examination rooms at the end of the hall. The others disbanded. The exit doors opened and shut.

  The brisk seaside air of September flicked across Evy’s skin. She shivered. “You’re letting him go home, Jolene?” she whispered. “Is that wise?”

  “Like mere mortals could keep SuperDeputy here?” Jolene rocked in her rubber-soled mules. “What do we know? We’re just medical professionals.” She rolled her eyes. “He wants to go back to work.”

  At Evy’s motion of protest, Jolene squeezed her arm.

  “Don’t worry. Not happening. Doctor’s orders. But he can go home as long as someone volunteers to watch him for complications. And makes sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

  The sheriff and Charlie’s friend, Walters, returned to the waiting area.

  “Anybody ready for the challenge?” Jolene did a slow pivot of the remaining members of law enforcement. “Any of you brave boys and girls in blue? Anybody? But Evy’s got first dibs. How about it, darlin’?”

  Evy set her jaw. “He’ll behave on my watch. I’ll see to it.”

  Jolene gave Evy a small two-fingered salute. “Thank you for your service.”

  Dixie smoothed E
vy’s hair. “You get him settled at home. Bernie and I will cover the night watch.”

  Bernie’s bald head glistened in the fluorescent lighting. “Wouldn’t be proper for a single gal like you to be at his house alone with him at night.” He glanced at the screen on his cell phone.

  Evy raised her eyebrows. “In his condition, I hardly think he’s likely to besmirch my honor.”

  Dixie patted Evy’s purse. “Who says we were talking about him, sugar?”

  Evy laughed. As Dixie had meant for her to.

  “Did I ever tell you, Dixie, how much it means to me that you’ve been my friend? In spite of your longstanding relationship with certain others.”

  “Honey has her sisters. You’ve had nobody but me for a long time.” Dixie sniffed. “Too long a time, I expect.”

  Bernie’s gaze dropped to his phone. “Dixie called Charlie’s mother. Expect a phone call tonight. His brother is driving over from Norfolk after his shift at the firehouse to ride herd on Charlie for the weekend. He’ll be here at first light.”

  Dixie checked her lipstick in her compact mirror. “Expect a phone call from all of ’em. Only one I didn’t get, of course, was the Pruitt currently floating somewhere in the Mediterranean.”

  She cocked her head at Bernie. “Speaking of the Mediterranean, our sixth anniversary is coming up, Bernard.”

  Bernie raised his eyebrows. “You bring the sunscreen, and I’ll bring the snorkel gear?”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Bernie and Dixie smiled at each other. True love. The kind that lasted.

  An improbable match—the serious, analytical, never-married engineer and the seemingly ditzy, never-met-a-stranger waitress. But theirs was the real deal. Evy should be so lucky—no, make that blessed.

  Bernie and Dixie went in to see Charlie next after Evy begged off. “I’ll wait. You go ahead.”

  After what happened last night, would Charlie be pleased to see her? Did he even want to see her?

  She freed her hair from the confines of the ponytail. Agitated, she raked her fingers through her hair. But oh, how she longed to see him. If nothing else, to reassure herself Charlie was really okay.

  When Bernie and Dixie emerged from the curtained-off cubicle, Evy pushed to her feet. And took a deep breath.

  * * *

  Where were his pants?

  Charlie tried sitting up in the hospital bed. At the throbbing stab of pain, he gasped and fell onto the pillow. The room swam.

  He waited for the wooziness to subside. He appreciated the well wishes of his colleagues and friends. In the small Eastern Shore community, everyone knew everybody. Or knew somebody who knew everybody else.

  Word of his accident had spread fast. Orderlies he’d known since his football days at Nandua High popped their heads around the curtain to check his status. Therapists who knew his mother stopped to say hello. It appeared that everybody was worried about his well-being.

  Except for the one person he wanted to see the most. As the minutes slid by, she was apparently the only one who didn’t care if he was dead or alive. The curtain twitched.

  A mirage? He blinked to make sure.

  Her hands on her hips, Evy Shaw was a sight for sore eyes in her black pencil skirt and starched sea-blue blouse. Her hair, interestingly enough, had come loose from her usual ponytail. It billowed around her shoulders. Framing her face.

  He’d never seen Evy with her hair down. He would’ve never suspected how wavy it was. His heart accelerated, and he drank his fill of her.

  In that split second when the tire blew and the airbag hit his face, he’d wondered if he’d ever see her again. A strange silence had filled his head in those minutes. The horrific sounds faded to white noise as his head hit the roof. And he’d experienced a stillness, a peace. A clarity as the crash tossed his body from side to side.

  But he’d felt sheltering arms. Infinite love. Someone who’d proven on Calvary He could be trusted. With everything.

  Charlie’s breath stopped as he and Evy stared at each other. The moment hung suspended. Stretching between them. Connecting them. Did she hate him? If she did, he deserved it.

  She cleared her throat. “What is this I hear about you being a difficult patient, Deputy Pruitt?”

  He gulped past the emotion lodged in his throat. “I’m not staying here.”

  She plucked his pants, the worse for wear, off a nearby chair. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “No way I’m letting you dress me. Where’s Jolene?”

  “You’ve got control issues, Pruitt.”

  “You’ve got book issues, Shaw.”

  Evy laughed. He flushed. Then laughed, too.

  “Stop.” He clutched his rib cage. “Don’t make me laugh. Sorry if I’m not up for the usual witty repartee we do so well.”

  Evy smiled. “We do banter well, don’t we?”

  In that instant, he recalled a brief flash of memory when the windshield shattered on impact. An image of him and Evy in the window seat of his house reading aloud a picture book with a small child between them. A dream? A vision? A prayer?

  A lifeline.

  She moved alongside the bed. “Does it hurt to talk? If so, I’ll be quiet.”

  “That’ll be the day.” He shifted on the thin mattress and winced. “I don’t mind talking. It’s the breathing that hurts.”

  But that didn’t matter, either. He was so deliriously glad to see her. In the parade of faithful friends, he’d wondered if she cared enough to come. Hoped she cared enough to come.

  She did. If only a little.

  Evy held up his pants. “Jolene can help you get dressed. But then I’m taking you home.” She leaned over the bed. “And that’s the way it’s going to be, Charles Pruitt. Whether you like it or not.”

  “I like it.”

  He took a cautious exploratory breath. He loved the intoxicating scent of her. Something exotic.

  “Okay then.” She opened the curtain. “Glad we understand each other.”

  He was a blessed man. In more ways than one. Why hadn’t he seen that before?

  Charlie didn’t believe in luck. He believed in his training, his gut, in God’s overarching orchestration of his life. And he believed in Evy.

  He was tired of wrestling with doubt. Charlie was going to trust her. Without proof. As an act of faith. She didn’t have anything to prove to him. Actually, it was the other way around. He was done with this so-called investigation of Honey’s.

  And he thanked God for the second chance to prove to Evy he was a man who could be trusted. With her secrets or not.

  He’d be there for her—as long as she let him.

  Chapter Eleven

  An hour later, at his house, Charlie glanced at himself in the hall mirror. And shuddered. The air bag had saved his life. That plus the seat belt. And most of all, God. But the air bag hadn’t done his face any favors.

  Charlie fingered his chin, eyeing the abrasions and small cuts. Evy had helped him get in and out of her car. The journey from his driveway and up the porch steps had felt like climbing K2. He hated feeling helpless. So he fussed. She was too small to bear his hulking weight. She told him to shut up.

  But she was stronger than she looked. The ballet training? Or the something she didn’t want to talk about that had made her so strong on the inside?

  She closed the front door with a decided click. “Stop admiring yourself, Charlie, and sit down. Nothing has marred your handsomeness.”

  He shot her a look and grinned. The cut on his cheek burned. He told himself not to smile again. But it was hard not to smile when he was with Evy. “Glad to know you think I’m handsome.”

  She took his arm, leading him into the living room. “Not a news flash. It’s c
ommon knowledge. And if I didn’t already know you were handsome, all I had to do was ask you. You’d have told me, for sure.”

  He laughed. And immediately regretted it as he had to bend over double to cushion his ribs.

  “Evy. Stop,” he wheezed. “For pity’s sake.”

  He glanced at the sofa. “If I go down now, I won’t be able to get up.”

  She straightened his cockeyed collar. “What do you need?”

  “Comfort food. But more than that, I want to take a shower.” He planted his palms on her shoulders. “Don’t attempt to persuade me otherwise...”

  She sighed. “You peeked ahead two weeks to our reading of Jane Austen’s Persuasion.”

  Charlie ran his hand behind the nape of her neck and tangled his fingers in her hair. “I like your hair this way. You should wear it loose more often.”

  Her lips twitched. “You’ve obviously been overmedicated.”

  “As a matter of fact, I like you, Evy Shaw. More than a lot.”

  “Suppose you get dizzy, fall down in the shower and split your head open on the tile?”

  “Your over-the-top imagination rivals Catherine Morland’s.” He encircled her waist with his hands. “I’m suddenly feeling much better. But if worse comes to worst, you can give me mouth-to-mouth.”

  Evy rolled her eyes. “You wish, Deputy. I’m not the only one with an overactive imagination.”

  But she didn’t move away. If anything, she settled in closer. Her head tucked into the hollow of his throat. Fitting, Charlie thought, just right in his arms.

  Pieces of a puzzle coming together. Like God had made them to complete each other.

  “My, my. You’ve been busy since book club last night. Reading ahead. Chasing bad guys. Surviving a near-death experience. When did you find time to sleep?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Her brow knitted. “Why not?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t like the way things ended between us. I’m sorry for being an idiot. I’ll try to keep my idiocy under better control next time.” He bit his lip and caught himself in an unconscious imitation of Evy. “If you’ll give me a second chance.”