“Sounds familiar.”
Meg felt her cheeks getting red, but she’d rather be embarrassed about something she’d done as a kid than to have to talk about Dan.
“What happened?”
“One of Joey’s friends called 911 and our intrepid sheriff had to climb up and rescue Joey.” She was grinning when she added, “The video rescue went viral ten minutes later.”
“About time Sheriff Wallace made the news. How many times has he had to rescue someone from the water tower?”
Meg sighed. “Thirteen.” She’d been the third.
“How many times has he had to climb up that ship’s mast at the McCormacks’ farm?”
“Only five.” She’d been his first official rescue on the job.
“No wonder he doesn’t want to get involved with Honey B.”
Meg was shaking her head when she asked, “How do you figure that?”
“Honey B. has always been vocal about wanting to raise a family—a big one with at least six kids. Can you imagine how tough Mitch Wallace’s life would become not only taking care of every kid in town but six of his own?”
Meg’s jaw dropped open; she’d never thought of it that way. But she shouldn’t have been surprised; Honey B. had always been the first choice of babysitters when they’d been in school. The kids always loved having Honey B. sit for them. Meg never seemed to have the time, spending so much of her teen years watching her younger sisters when she wasn’t on the job with her dad.
“Maybe it’s time that Honey B. took the bull by the horns,” Meg admitted, “and let the sheriff know that she’s tired of waiting and is going to start looking on the Internet for a man who will fits the bill and fulfills all her needs.”
The devilish look in Mrs. Winter’s eyes had Meg wishing she’d kept her thoughts to herself. When the older woman got up to get a pad of paper and a pen, Meg was looking for an excuse to leave. But Mrs. Winter wasn’t having any of it. “Now then, Megan, I need the names of several reputable Internet dating sites.”
“Oh no.” Meg stood and held her hands out in front of her as if that could stop Amelia when she was on a roll. “I can’t do that to Honey B.”
“She’ll thank you once she’s got Mitch’s ring on her hand.”
Would she? Meg wasn’t so sure. Out of all the women around their age, they were still single after all these years, and the men they’d loved hadn’t had enough sense or money to buy a clue where Honey B. and Meg were concerned.
“What if it doesn’t work?” Meg asked.
Mrs. Winter nodded. “What if she finds out that she and Mitch aren’t meant to be and that there is another man out there who will love her and cherish her just because of who she is?”
Meg finally acquiesced and wrote down three names for Mrs. Winter. “These are the ones I’ve heard about and read about, but I can’t guarantee anything because I’ve never used any of them.”
Mrs. Winter nodded. “Agreed. I’ll just see about doing a little research, shall I?”
Fifteen minutes later, Meg was in the truck, her precious pie in the basket she kept on hand for valuables received as payment for work, and wondering if she’d just gotten involved where she shouldn’t have. “Won’t be the first time,” she said with a sigh.
Driving past Honey’s Hair Salon, she no longer thought she was doing the right thing. What if someone decided they wanted to help Meg with her love life? She groaned in frustration. She would not like it. Pulling around the corner, she parked, got out, and walked to Honey’s shop.
“Well, hi there, Meg.” Honey’s smile was as sweet as her name. It was one reason Meg decided they’d be friends all those years ago. Meg looked around at the empty shop, with its three hair dryers lined up like soldiers at attention on the left and the pair of sinks across the narrow shop on the right. Three antique barber chairs sat in front of vintage mirrors in need of silvering, but patrons didn’t notice the age or the wear on the interior of Honey B.’s shop; they noticed the warmth. It was just like the shop’s owner, Honey B. Harrington.
Encouraged by her friend’s warm and welcoming smile, Meg unloaded and told Honey B. the whole plan.
Honey’s face didn’t give away what she was thinking, so Meg was surprised when Honey finally nodded. “I’m tired of chasing after that man.”
“But, Honey—”
“I have loved that man for half my life.” She sat down and motioned for Meg to do the same. Sitting there in front of the hair dryers, Honey confided, “I didn’t want to believe that he didn’t return the feelings that were so huge inside of me I thought they would consume me.”
Meg felt a lump forming in her throat, but she ignored it and said, “I know what you mean. I guess I only recently realized that I’d been hanging on to the false hope that Jimmy would ask me to marry him—and stay. I guess it didn’t occur to me that maybe what I thought was love had morphed into an obsession.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to,” Honey B. said. “I know you.”
“Busted.” Meg didn’t want to talk about her reaction to Dan, but once she got started, she realized that deep down, she needed to bounce what she was feeling off a trusted friend who would understand and help her to cope with the rejection that she felt was sure to follow.
“What makes you think he’s dating Peggy?”
“She’s the complete opposite of me.”
“What’s wrong with you?” Honey B. asked.
“I saw the reaction on his face when the McCormack sisters strolled over to meet him… all that blonde hair and those mile-long legs are hard to ignore. Just like my sisters—”
“Oh, give it up, Meg,” Honey B. grumbled. “And get over it. Your sisters take after your dad in height; you take after your mom. Embrace who you are, damn it!”
Meg’s ire started to bubble to the surface. “Like you have?”
Honey’s eyes widened and then her gaze narrowed as she frowned at Meg. “That’s right. I decided long ago that if I couldn’t catch Mitch’s eye as a blonde, then I would try a different hair color every week until I could.” She waited a beat before adding, “I didn’t just step aside and let another woman usurp my rightful place.”
“But you didn’t get your man,” Meg said quietly.
“Then it’s about time I woke up and smelled the coffee, ’cause right now it’s boiling over.” When Meg looked down at her feet, Honey B. reached over and touched her on the arm. “It sounds like this man could be someone special if he jarred you back to reality with just one innocent kiss.”
Meg tried to keep from smiling, but in the end she gave in. “Well, it wasn’t exactly the kiss that did it.”
“Well?” Honey asked, and then threatened, “Don’t make me hurt you to get you to fess up.”
“It was when I lost my balance and fell into his arms.” She drew in a long slow breath and let it go. “Being held in his arms only added to the sparks and tingles…” She paused to inhale a deep breath. “And then I looked up into his clear gray eyes… and got lost.”
“Girl, you’ve got it bad.” Honey got up and started to pace. “I’ll make a deal with you, Meg.”
She paid attention, because when Honey called her that, her friend meant business. “I’m listening.”
“Good. Because I’m going to call Mrs. Winter and give her a free haircut and color if she’ll keep quiet about those dating sites until I’m ready to let it leak out to a certain someone that I’m giving up on the sheriff.”
Meg bounced to her feet. “All right, Honey B.!”
“But,” Honey added, “only if you agree to go after Dan Eagan with every bit of fire you possess.” Honey held out her hand. “Deal?”
Meg didn’t even hesitate; she put out her hand and they s
hook on it. “Deal.”
“You’d better call Amelia right away; she’s bound to have told Miss Trudi by now.”
Meg pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “Mrs. Winter? Hey it’s Meg. There’s been a slight change in plans.” She looked at her friend and smiled. “Honey B.’s in on it.”
Chapter 4
Dan concentrated on the paperwork piled on his desk. He was grateful to be busy; it kept him from replaying last night and Meg’s confusing response. She didn’t exactly run hot and cold, but she did withdraw at moments just when he thought they were getting closer.
“Coach, did you hear about the Smolinsky brothers?”
Dan looked up from the player evaluations he was working on and noticed the excited expression on Doyle’s pale, thin face. “Yes. It’s sad; there are some pranks that are just not meant to be repeated.”
Doyle nodded and a lock of black hair fell into his eyes. He brushed it out of the way and was grinning when he said, “The guys are all talking about it, and we just have one question.” Dan pushed back in his chair and waited. Doyle rubbed his palms on his jean-clad thighs. “How come the soccer team never gets into trouble like that?”
Dan grinned, grateful that the question had been an easy one. “We have to be smarter and faster.”
Doyle was nodding as Dan added, “Soccer players will always have great core strength, can run all day long, and have the smarts to outwit defenders on the opposite team because it’s the nature of the game.”
Doyle grinned and said, “So we’re smarter, faster, and never get caught.”
Dan laughed out loud. “Exactly.”
Doyle spun around and was about to leave when Dan stopped him. “That doesn’t mean that you should go out and plan something idiotic to one-up the varsity football team.”
It was Doyle’s turn to grin. “No sir, Coach!”
Watching him leave, Dan wondered if he’d gotten through to the young man or if he’d inadvertently managed to fire up the kid’s imagination. Maybe it was time to lay a little groundwork—do some preemptive damage control—and get to know the sheriff better.
He had five minutes before his free period, the last class of the day, was over, time enough to place a phone call. He punched in the numbers and waited to be connected.
“Wallace.”
“Hi, Sheriff, it’s Dan Eagan. We met—”
“Save your breath, Dan, and call me Mitch—you’re making me feel old,” the sheriff drawled. “What’s on your mind?”
“I heard there was a little mishap outside the school early this morning.”
“News always travels fast,” Sheriff Wallace said, “good and bad.”
“I heard no one was injured.”
“You heard right, but I’m sure you didn’t call just to verify that statement.”
The sheriff spoke at a slower pace than Dan was used to back home, but he wasn’t a pushover; the man was shark-smart. “I might need your help with Doyle and Hawkins.”
The other man chuckled. “Smart boys. I went to school with their folks.”
“Doyle was in here asking about the Smolinsky brothers and when he left he reassured me he and the other guys on the team wouldn’t be pulling any pranks, but now I’m not sure.”
“Why?”
“When he asked me why the soccer team never got into trouble like that, I told him that’s because soccer players have to be smarter and faster.”
There was a slight pause before the sheriff finally spoke. “So you’re thinking, in Doyle’s teenaged mind, it was a challenge of sorts?”
“I didn’t mean it that way, but I can’t help but wonder if it is.” Dan wished he’d thought it through more carefully before speaking, but he’d been reliving his college soccer years and really missed the camaraderie of the team—and the hell they’d raised.
“You think they’ll try something?”
“Couldn’t hurt to be on guard,” Dan admitted. “Was there ever a prank that the soccer players played that the kids might try to reenact?”
“Let me think on it,” Sheriff Wallace said. “You know where to find me if you need me.”
“I do. Thanks, Mitch.” Dan was surprised that he really meant it. He was relieved.
The bell rang, startling him back to reality and the last class of the day. “Time for some three-on-three drills.”
***
It had been a long day and a great practice. Dan was feeling more at ease with his new job and position as coach. He liked the kids and was really encouraged by their excitement about playing hard and advancing to the States. It didn’t bother him that the main motive for the guys was their former coach. He hoped one day to have the team feel that way about him, but in the meantime was happy to be a part of the team and helping them achieve their goal of a winning season.
Who knows, maybe the kids would come to appreciate Dan for who he was—the same as he was beginning to appreciate the little differences in a town the size of Apple Grove.
He’d had the opportunity to repay his great-aunt’s generosity by helping her at coffee hour at church and planned to help out at her garden center. He had an open invitation to taste the pie at the Apple Grove Diner—which he would have to do soon, fix (make that drool over) Joe Mulcahy’s Model A pickup, talk fast cars and watch racing on TV with Bob Stuart, and then there was the mystery that was Meg…
As he walked to his car, lost in thought, he didn’t notice the tall, blonde woman leaning against the driver’s door until he was nearly there. “Ms. McCormack,” he said by way of greeting. “What a surprise.” He wasn’t exactly afraid to talk to the woman that Meg seemed to be jealous of, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep his tone neutral so that he didn’t give her the wrong impression. A few of the women he’d dated before his ex had mistaken open friendliness for interest. “How are you?”
Her smile made him uneasy, but he tamped down the feeling and maintained his friendly attitude. He was interested in a petite redhead with a sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Even though he hadn’t seen Meg in a day or so, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“Now that you’re here, I’m better,” she said, pushing off the car and walking toward him. “Much better.”
Why did women pick the worst possible moments to come on to a guy? He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to hurt Peggy’s feelings. Damn. He didn’t have time for this right now. “Good to hear,” he said, neatly blocking her advance and stepping around her. “Have a nice day.” Before she could regroup, he was in the car, revving the engine and backing out of his parking space.
“Women,” he mumbled, tilting his rearview mirror, watching to see what she’d do. His sigh of relief echoed in the car. She’d been right behind him, but then she turned left when he turned right. He couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he’d said or done that had encouraged the woman—or if she was just taking charge of the situation and making her move. He’d have to think about it later; right now the sheriff had asked him to stop by his office after practice. Dan guessed the man had come up with a few thoughts to keep Dan’s team from doing something stupid. A short ride from the high school, he parallel parked and got out. He couldn’t tell how old the brick building was, but he smiled at the fresh coat of bright green paint on the front door and wondered… it looked a lot like the color on the water tower. He’d have to ask the sheriff if he’d noticed any of his paint missing lately.
“Hi, Dan,” the brunette behind the desk greeted him by name. He knew he’d never met her before, but she did look familiar…
“Hi, I’m meeting with—”
The brunette smiled. “Sheriff Wallace, he’s expecting you. First door on the left.”
Dan hesitated and asked, “Did we meet at Bill and Edie’s wedding?”
She shook her head. “Y
ou met my sister, Honey B.”
The woman’s name was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her face; he’d been bowled over by Megan Mulcahy that day and had yet to recover his balance.
The woman behind the desk smiled and stretched out her hand. “I’m Cindy Harrington, my sister Honey B. owns Honey’s Hair Salon.”
He took her hand and shook it. “Pleasure to meet you, Cindy.”
She smiled up at him and he felt the welcome down to his toes. “I hear the kids on the soccer team are working hard to impress their new coach. They needed someone to lift their spirits after Coach Creed had his heart attack. I hear that you were the top-scoring forward on the Rensselaer college team.”
He was momentarily at a loss for words before his brain kicked in and he started to laugh. “Has Aunt Trudi been talking about me behind my back?”
Cindy’s laugh was infectious. “She’s talking about you every chance she gets. She’s very proud of you.”
“Um… thanks. I think I’ll go talk to the sheriff now.” He walked down the hallway and knocked on the door frame since the door to the sheriff’s office was open.
The man himself was seated behind a beat-up oak desk. “Eagan,” the lawman said, rising to his feet. “Glad you’re here. Sit down.”
Dan took the seat across from the sheriff and leaned forward. “Well?”
“I have been going through the records and have found a couple of pranks that were memorable that should not be repeated.” The older man sighed. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure that the kids are going to do something stupid, but I’m a cautious man.”
“It didn’t hit me right away, but after Doyle left, I had this really bad feeling.”
Sheriff Wallace snorted. “Happens more times that I’d like… when I feel like that, I roll with it and put out feelers all over town.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen it all over the years.”
A Wedding in Apple Grove Page 10
