Chapter Sixteen
A loud pounding reverberated through Colt’s head; each blow to the front door struck his brain like a hammer to an anvil. This was the second morning in a row he’d woken up hungover, and if he weren’t so angry with the world right now, he’d be downright pissed at himself. But a person had only so much anger to go around.
He stumbled to his feet, untangling the sheet from his bare waist. He glanced around, grabbed a pair of boxers, slipped them on. This was as good as he was going to get at—he peered at his bedside alarm clock—7 a.m. Whoever was at the front door would just have to deal with his appearance.
He lurched through his apartment, rubbing his bleary eyes. The walls of the hallway tilted, curled in toward him. He cursed. Too damn much liquor the night before. Again. The apartment was shoddily built, but the walls still stood straight. His father would bring up at least once a year the fact that he shouldn’t live in a crap apartment, should have his own home. Something about needing to be a walking advertisement for his business. But, since it was just him, an apartment suited Colt fine. He’d build a home when he had a family.
Pausing at the front door, he leaned his head against the cold wood. He’d be living in an apartment for a very long time.
Someone banged again, rattling the door on its hinges and smacking it against his forehead. He pushed away with a groan and flung it open.
“What?” Watery morning light struck his eyes, forcing him to squint, but he could still make out Jerome’s blue uniform on his doorstep. An arctic blast of air swept in with the light, and Colt stepped back. “Christ, it’s cold this morning.”
Jerome stepped past him, turning as Colt eased the door shut, trying to close it as quietly as possible for the sake of his throbbing head. “It’s not as bad when you wear, you know, clothes,” Jerome said, eyeing him up and down. “I’m not interrupting something, am I?”
Colt yawned and sank down on his couch. “The only thing you’re interrupting is my sleep.”
Jerome settled on a worn Barcalounger, shifted his utility belt, and pulled his gun around so he wasn’t sitting on the hard metal. “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d be interrupting anything important. I heard you blew it with Sadie already.”
“My sleep is important,” Colt growled.
“After a night of drinking, I’m sure it feels that way.” Narrowing his eyes, Jerome shook his head minutely.
“Piss off.” Colt scratched his jaw. His beard was already coming in. He wouldn’t need to shave again. No reason to. “Besides, what do you mean I blew it? She blew it with me.”
Jerome snorted. “I don’t think that’s how it works, man. One thing I learned from my ex, the guy’s always the one responsible.”
“And yet you still got divorced. Forgive me if I don’t take relationship advice from you anytime soon.”
“That’s low. But I’ll forgive you because you’re probably feeling like crap after losing out with someone like Sadie.” His chocolate eyes warm with sympathy, Jerome asked, “Want to talk about what happened?”
“No.”
“Good. Because I really didn’t want to hear it. I was just being nice.” Jerome pulled the lever on the side of the chair and popped his feet up. They sat in silence for a good minute, the ticking of a clock the only sound.
Colt cracked his knuckles and leaned forward on the couch. “Okay, here’s what happened. The city is trying to condemn Sadie’s house, and because she saw me talking with someone from the planning commission and because she crushed my brother’s truck, she thinks I’m responsible.”
“Actually, I saw you talking with the commission and mentioned it to her.”
Colt waved a hand in front of his face. “Whatever. It doesn’t change the fact that she accused me of something I didn’t do.” He paused and glared at the cop. “But thanks for that.”
“No problem.” Jerome’s teeth gleamed, a slash of white in the dim light. “But let me get this straight. She thinks you intentionally got her house condemned?”
“Yeah, she heard something about some big redevelopment plan and has now cooked up a conspiracy with me as the bad guy.” He rubbed his hand back and forth through his hair. “This is total crap. I’m tired of people blaming me. First my dad, now Sadie. I think I’m going to blow town for a couple of days. Maybe do some ice fishing.”
Jerome shifted in his seat, leather squeaking. “Uh, you can’t do that just yet.”
“Why?”
“We’ll get to that. But first, I just want to make sure I’ve got this right. There’s a new redevelopment plan. Sadie’s neighborhood has also recently been rezoned to allow multi-unit housing.” At Colt’s raised eyebrow, Jerome nodded. “I heard about that yesterday, too, when I heard about the redevelopment. And for full disclosure, I also told Sadie about it.” He ignored Colt’s growl. “And Sadie’s house is suddenly condemned.” He shook his head. “I don’t know, man. Maybe there is a conspiracy.”
Colt clenched his jaw, trying, and failing, to rein in his temper. “You think I’m trying to screw Sadie, too?”
Jerome smirked at his choice of words. Colt glowered at him and the man’s smile disappeared with satisfying speed. His friend raised both hands in a placating gesture. “Calm down. I don’t think you’re the bad guy. But I’m not saying that there isn’t one.”
That thought tumbled around in Colt’s mind. He had been so ticked off yesterday at Sadie’s accusation that he hadn’t given any thought to the unusual circumstances. Was someone messing with Sadie to get her property? He told himself he shouldn’t care anymore what happened to her. But he did.
Colt cracked his knuckles, one by one. “How do we find out?”
“You’re the one with contacts in the planning department. Use them. I can have a chat with Judge Nichols and the mayor and see what they know. In the meantime, Sadie should get a lawyer.”
Colt let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t doubt she intends to, probably put my name at the very top of the lawsuit. But if you want to make sure she has, you’d better talk to her yourself. She won’t listen to me.”
Jerome smiled cheerfully. “She’s next on my list of wake-up calls, so I’ll talk to her when I go to Allison’s house.”
Colt scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Why Allison’s?”
“Jane in dispatch told me that Samson Elliot told her that Davie Lawson overheard Allison offer her a spare room when Sadie went to the café last night.”
“While that’s a very interesting chain of gossip, I was wondering why you have to wake her up. And why did you wake me up?” Colt couldn’t keep the petulance from his voice. He rubbed his bleary eyes and figured Jerome deserved the attitude.
“Ah, yes.” Jerome struggled from the deep chair to his feet and rested his hands on his duty belt. “Judge Nichols made a test run of the tree last night and he says there’s a big section in the middle where the lights aren’t working. You and Sadie need to go fix it.”
“What? The lights were working fine last time I checked them.” No way was he going back to that tree. To work beside Sadie and her suspicions.
“Well, they’re not working now. And need I remind you that you’ve still got another day on your community service? You either go back to that tree and fix it, or you go to jail.”
Colt flopped back on the sofa in a defeated slouch. “Are you going to give Sadie that same tough talk?”
“I won’t need to.” Jerome’s smile was all condescension. “Sadie’s a nice, conscientious woman. She’ll be happy to fix the lights.” Ambling to the door, he called back over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight at the ceremony. And every light in that tree had better be on.”
* * *
“I have to go back and fix the lights?” Sadie stared at the ceiling, groaning. “I’m sure Colt can handle it by himself. There’s no need for both of us to go down there.” She tilted her head to the side and glanced at Jerome from the corner of her eye. His mouth was pinched tight and he shook his
head sadly.
“Well, that attitude is real disappointing. I knew what I’d get when I knocked on Colt’s door, but I expected more outta you.” Jerome shifted in Allison’s foyer, squinted down at Sadie’s feet. “Nice slippers.” He smirked.
She dropped her eyes to her feet and turned her toes in, the raised bunny heads at the end of each slipper kissing together. “Allison lent them to me.”
“Where is Allison? She at work already?”
“Yep. Running your own café takes long hours.” She kicked at the floor, the bunny head on her slipper rocking back and forth. “I don’t really have to go back to the town square, do I?” A heavy weight sat on her chest as she acknowledged the cowardly streak she hadn’t realized lay within her.
Jerome hitched his thumbs in his duty belt and gazed at her, his eyes sympathetic but firm. “You don’t really want Colt fixing the lights all by himself, do you? Imagine how the tree will look when he’s done with it.”
“Hmm.” She bit her lip. “You may be onto something there. He is rather pitiful when it comes to decorating.”
Squeezing her shoulder, Jerome said, “Just think of all that hard work you’ve put in this week. If Colt is left on his own he might ruin it all. You wouldn’t want that.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m being manipulated?” she asked. Sadie cocked her head and looked him up and down. “Are you always this sneaky or just when you’re on duty?”
He loosed a deep chuckle. “I’m a dad. I have years of experience being manipulative. Besides, isn’t it better this way instead of me taking you to the town square in cuffs? You still have a day left on your community service, Sadie. Your debt to society isn’t paid off yet.”
“Fine.” She huffed out a quick breath. “I’ll go as soon as I’m dressed.”
Jerome walked to the door. “Don’t take too long. No telling what Colt will get up to.”
She closed the door behind him and rested her forehead against the hard wood. Her stomach was tied in knots. A part of her wanted to race up the stairs and get to the town square as quickly as possible. Though they’d been apart less than a day, she already missed Colt. Or she missed the man she’d thought he was. Another part of her never wanted to see him again.
She smacked her palm against the front door before pushing off of it. Regardless of what she wanted, the reality was she would have to see him again. She would just have to suck it up.
Trudging up the stairs, she went to her room and dug through her suitcase, pulling out the tightest pair of jeans she had brought with her and a scoop-neck red sweater. Whether Colt was a liar or whether she had misjudged him, Sadie wanted to look good. In the first instance, to rub what he’d lost in his face or, in the second, to tempt him back into her arms. She brushed out her hair and left it trailing over her shoulders, then applied makeup like a brave putting on war paint. She nodded once at her reflection and headed out.
The town center was a hive of activity. The tree lighting in Pineville was more like a street fair. Booths were being set up in the town square and two teenagers carrying a sign tacked between two-by-fours stepped out in front of her car. She tapped her horn and one of the boys raised his hand in apology. They walked to a booth near the sidewalk and started raising their sign. Sadie made a mental note. That booth was where baked goods would be sold. She suspected that by the end of this day, she would need large quantities of lard and sugar to help get her through.
She found a spot on the street that someone was just pulling out of. Exiting her car, she searched the streets but didn’t see Colt’s truck. Tension uncoiled from her body and she headed for the tree. Her moment of truth was delayed, at least for a little while. Maybe Colt wouldn’t show up and she would have to fix the lights alone. That didn’t sound like a bad idea.
Pulling her phone from her pocket, she started to text him that she could handle the light situation by herself. A group of children raced from the opposite direction, chasing after the lead boy who held a tablet over his head. Sadie heard the shouts too late and looked up just in time to block the device from smacking her in the face. The boy ran into her midsection, the other children piled into him, and the combined mass of the horde sent Sadie tumbling.
“Son of a . . . gun,” she bit out. Goggled-eyed, all of the children stared down at her sprawled form. One of them was old enough to smirk at her last-minute word substitution.
“Are you okay, lady?” a girl with uneven brown pigtails asked.
“She’s fine,” the leader of the gang said. “There’s no blood. Let’s go.” He ran off, the other children following him like he was the pied piper.
She sat up, staring after them, muttering, “You stinking little rug rats.”
A man squatted next to her and gave her a commiserating smile. “Kids these days,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you all right? That was quite a tumble.”
She examined her palms, finding bits of gravel embedded in them and some scraped skin, but, as the brat had pointed out, no blood. Her tailbone hurt like the devil, but she wasn’t going to tell some stranger that tidbit of information. “I’m fine, thanks. As long as they didn’t break my cell phone.”
She reached behind her, her fingers grasping for the device, only to feel a hard mound of leather. Twisting to her hip, she stared at the scuffed work boot her fingers gripped, her stomach rolling like a boat in a hurricane. Her eyes traveled up the laces to khaki-clad legs, the cargo pants stretching over muscled thighs. Sadie swallowed. She recognized those thighs. She forced her gaze to jump over the crotch of his pants and focused on the Pendleton peeking out from under his unzipped parka. “Hi, Colt.”
He reached out a large hand and she automatically grabbed the broad palm. He pulled her to her feet, his calloused fingers pulling on her scraped skin, and she hissed in a breath. Colt turned her hand over, then reached for her other one, examining both.
He heaved a deep sigh. “Come on. I’ve got a first aid kit in my truck.” Releasing one of her hands, he swiped her phone off the pavement, gave it to her. With his other hand firmly around her wrist, he led Sadie to his truck on the opposite side of the square.
Her pulse fluttered wildly beneath his fingers and she hoped he couldn’t feel it, that he didn’t know the effect he had on her body. Even with so impersonal a touch, delicious shivers traveled up and down her spine at the feel of his skin on hers.
He ushered her to the back bumper of his truck and pressed his hands on her shoulders, directing her to take a seat. “Wait here.” He was back thirty seconds later, a plastic kit in his hands. He placed it on the bumper next to her and popped the lid. Squatting in front of her, he took one of her hands and started to brush the gravel from her skin, his fingers as light as a feather.
Sadie gazed over his head and focused on controlling her breathing.
“First an accident while texting and driving, now one while texting and walking. Maybe that form of communication just isn’t for you.” Opening a small package, he removed a wet wipe and dabbed her palm with it.
The metal star at the top of the tree glinted in the morning sunlight. Sadie squinted at it, desperate to focus on anything other than the way his hand felt cupping hers. Trying to ignore his woodsy scent invading her senses, and the sparks of memory every breath she took dredged up. She failed on all counts.
“I guess not.” A small stream of vapor from her mouth accompanied her sigh.
“Can’t even look at me, huh?” he asked, his voice low. Her eyes snapped toward him, met his piercing gaze. Expecting to see anger, maybe triumph, she was leveled by the grief in his eyes. Maybe he hadn’t wanted it to go this far. Maybe during all his scheming he’d actually come to feel something for her.
She looked away. The tree was much easier to focus on. Looking at it didn’t break her heart. “It’s hard.”
His laugh was sharp and bitter. “This is what you made it.” He picked up some disinfectant and sprayed her palm, blew softly on the tender skin to ease the sting.
“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Maybe. It depends on whether I’m right about you or not.”
Picking up her other hand, he repeated the process. “What will it take to convince you that you’re wrong about me?” he asked finally.
“How do you prove a negative? That you didn’t talk to the planning commission about getting my house condemned?”
“So we’re back to needing hard evidence.” He clenched his jaw. “What about trust, Sadie? Don’t you have even a little of it for me?”
Looking into his sad green eyes, her heart clenched. His cheeks and jaw were fully covered by his scruff and Sadie was reminded of the man she had first met only a week ago. They had come so far together in just a couple of days, from anger and contempt to forgiveness and love. Yes, she could admit it to herself. She loved him. Her mother had been in love with her cheating father, too. She blinked back tears, confusion pulling her apart.
“People get hurt by those they trust all the time,” she whispered. “Blind faith does more harm than good.”
“And you need evidence to believe in me.” Colt placed his palms on the bumper on either side of her and slowly pushed himself to a standing position. His large body blocked the sun and Sadie squinted at the bright aurora that backlit him. From this angle, the details of his face were hidden, only the harsh lines visible. He crossed his arms across his chest. “Is there a flowchart in your head keeping track of all the facts? Will you graph out the evidence to determine whether or not to believe in me? Make a pro and con list?” He turned his head away from her, his strong nose and jaw outlined by the sun. “It drives me nuts that the annoying character trait I fell in love with is the same one that will drive us apart.” Turning to face her, Colt shook his head. “You’ll get your evidence. I’ll show you that I haven’t been lying. At the end of this, you’ll have your proof, but I don’t know if you’ll have me.”
He snapped the first aid kit shut and put it in his truck. Then he walked away, leaving Sadie behind.
The Christmas Tree Page 21
