by CJ Hawk
Yup, that's right. Old Sheriff Cleat needed his own rescuing. The cigarette blew up the old coal; the hillside fell out from beneath the sheriff's feet, and the kaboom could be heard countywide. Lucky for the sheriff, a broken arm, broken ribs, a few black and blue marks and some singed hair, and he was marked for early retirement by the county. The terrible concussion that left him unconscious for a few days was the tip of the iceberg. When he came to, the county told him they needed a much younger able person to handle the job, and the rest of the county staff agreed. Old Sheriff Cleat saw his last rescue with me. He got a very nice retirement package, and I got a case of the guilt that still needed to be cleansed.
My next stop after lunch was the hospital where I had a brand new fishing rod and reel, wrapped up in a silver paper and a blue bow, along with a gift card from my employer Sports Emporium, for a very friendly amount. Being an inventory manager had its benefits, especially when a sportsman like old Sheriff Cleat keeps coming to my rescue.
Katelyn's comment caught my whirlwind of thinking back off guard. She grabbed a small bamboo basket with a handle that was on the floor next to her and put it on the table. "Since you're going by to see the sheriff at the hospital after this, I thought I might just bake up a little something for you to take to help with the apology."
This was so Katelyn. "Thanks Kate." I took a peek inside and out wafted the smell of homemade cookies, chocolate brownies, cinnamon rolls and some kind of chocolate-covered nuts. All homemade, no doubt. Jodi tried to grab at something, and Katelyn smacked her hand.
I knew I couldn't take another bite of salad, and I also knew as soon as that basket sat in the front seat of my yellow Mini Cooper on the drive to the hospital, chances were, my self-control would lose out, and I would sneak a cookie - or brownie. It would be a dastardly decision either way.
I finally put my napkin over my half-eaten weed salad and declared my lunchtime over. "Ladies. I've got to run. Thanks for meeting me for lunch. Thanks, I guess, for informing me that my life is being twisted by my arch nemesis for all to read about." I stood up from my chair, slung my purse over my shoulder while tossing a twenty on the table to cover my fair share and then some. I grabbed at the basket handle and blew a kiss to my three best friends.
It didn't take long for them to come running out to the parking lot when they heard the loud crash. It was only me, running the back end of my car into a wayward shopping cart I had not seen. In my defense, there was not any stores in the area that had shopping carts. I waved at my three best friends with my window down and drove forward with a remark to Jodi. "Mind getting that mangled mess out of the parking lot; it's your turn to clean up my mess."
She saluted me like a soldier salutes a sergeant, and I pulled out of the parking lot, down the street and at the first red light, I devoured a homemade chocolate brownie. I was a weak woman at times like these.
Chapter Two
As I sat in the waiting chair outside the hospital room, I watched the two deputies rip open my gift to Old Sheriff Cleat like it was a bomb or suspect package. I rolled my eyes as they inspected the rod and reel then a conversation at the nurse's desk, opposite me, caught my undivided attention. It was as if they were talking, and I was not sitting directly across from them, or maybe they had no clue what Kia Catastrophe looked like.
"I heard they brought in this guy, who was a Special Forces agent, retired but young, from the military." Nurse One
"I heard he was hot!" Nurse Two
The rest of the conversation jumped back and forth between the two like this.
"I not only heard that, I saw a picture of him on Carlene's blog about Ms. Catastrophe. She even posted pictures of him without his shirt on."
"Seriously? How does she get all this info? She must be one hell of a reporter to get all these pictures. I heard she had pictures of the blow up site at the time that it happened to Old Sheriff Cleat."
Doubt it. There was not a soul around for at least half a mile. There were no cameras there, and I certainly did not capture the event. There was no doubt in my mind, they were fake. The fact that one of the few things that Carlene was good at was photo-manipulation with pictures remained true.
"She's amazing in her details of the stories." Not sure which nurse said that because I had my eyes closed tight and my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. I felt a migraine coming on, and it goes by the name of Carlene.
Again, ladies, those are all made up fictitious facts. So what if she was good at story telling. I was the one with the degree, and I know for a fact that I was even better at writing than Carlene. It was the only thing I excelled at better than her in school, besides math, so it was the one thing I decided to achieve a degree in.
"Did you know that Carlene also has an autobiography on Ms. Catastrophe she is working on?"
"No. But did you know, that this new guy they are bringing in is not only hot, he's single. This county doesn't have enough cute single guys. They have retirees; they have married or the few single are such slim pickings you might as well become a lesbian since there are so many women fighting over them."
"I wonder if he prefers blondes or brunettes?"
"After I saw his picture, I hope he likes Hale Berry look a likes."
"Ugh!" That was me they were talking about while I was sitting right in front of their blind dimwitted eyes. Besides, the woman did not look like Hale Berry, more like a Hal Berry instead of a female. Her backside was three of me, and her front side had enough clearance it could dust the countertops. The other nurse was two months past dyeing her black roots platinum blonde - either way she was in dire need of a really great hair dresser. I think both nurses might serve themselves better by taking a few minutes at the gym and calling up their hairdressers before they went in search of some hot new sheriff. However, they got me wondering on how good looking, he might actually be.
Both nurses turned and looked at me as if they could read my mind. Just then, one of the deputies walked over and handed me the sheriff's unwrapped gift. "You can go in and see him now, but leave your purse with us to inspect."
I handed my purse over to the taller lankier deputy, and then abruptly grabbed the rod and reel. I gave the two nurses a glare and turned on my heels with purpose in my step. Two steps into the sheriff's room and one very happy smile on the sheriff's face it dawned on me. I DID NOT want those deputies to see what was in my purse. I set the basket of goodies on his tray table, just as I let out a huge loud gagging sound. "Ugh!"
Both deputies rushed into the room. The one holding my purse had his gun drawn. I snagged my purse out of his hand and spoke up like I was the drill sergeant. "You will not be inspecting my purse!"
Old Sheriff Cleat nodded, and the two deputies left the room shaking their heads.
There are times that, what is in a woman's purse, should only be known to her. This was definitely one of those times.
"Sheriff?"
"Kia. What's in the basket?"
I smiled. He knew that in the basket was Katelyn's specialty cooking of decadent delicious desserts. I slung my purse over my shoulder, set the rod and reel off on an empty chair, and put my hands up as if I was being arrested. "I confess. I sneaked one on the way over here. A needed a nerve calmer. You're looking good. I understand you are fully recovered from the concussion. The rod and reel are a gift from me. They were wrapped but your guys thought it might be a weapon, so they unwrapped it. Those two are quite the characters out there." I reached into my purse and pulled out the Get Well card with the hope that the, please forgive gift card to Sports Emporium would ease any discomfort I cost him. "Here, this goes with it. Please spend all of it. It will make me feel better."
He took the card out of my hand and smiled while he set the card off onto his tray table next to the basket. "You didn't have to get me a gift. It was an accident. Besides..." He waved at me to come close and then whispered into my ear. "I asked for early retirement last year, and they turned me down. This just pushed it up a bit. M
ost of the motley crew we've got around here wasn't ready to replace me, so I've got a guy coming in that I think will be perfect."
I stepped back and smiled awkwardly, wondering if the new guy would be as nice as old Sheriff Cleat was every time something happened to me.
"Oh don't look so stress. He's a good one. I think he'll be able to handle anything you toss his way." Then he broke out in serious laughter at the connotation of throwing, as in me throwing my cigarette down a pipe that landed on a coal dust pile. Thank God, that mine was pretty well scraped or mined - whatever they call it - of all the coal and just the coal dust created such an explosion.
I fidgeted with my purse that had a string hanging loose on the bottom of it. "So. What can you tell me about this new sheriff?"
A hardy laughter filled the hospital room, and the two deputies snuck their heads back in. I turned my head and glared at them. These particular two never took it easy on me when they had a call that pertained to me. Sheriff Cleat, he always handled me with kid gloves.
"Oh Kia." He did a get out hand motion to the deputies and motioned for me to close the door. "Come sit for a second, and then I need to rest as they just gave me pain meds right before you got here."
I pulled the chair up close to his bed and sat leaning forward to listen to him.
"I know your heart is always in the right place, but sometimes you just jump right in with both feet and don't take that second that is needed to look around at your surroundings."
I couldn't deny that. That was me, every time I got into trouble. Every time I would ask myself why I did not just try to take that extra second and think it through. I watched him yawn and fight closing his eyes. I reached out and patted his hand. "Why don't you rest. I'm sure I'll meet the new sheriff soon enough." Mentally, I had hoped not, but I knew that it would just be a matter of time.
A soft laughter escaped his lips as he was fighting the pain meds and how tired they were making him. "I hope not, but when you do, go easy on him Kia. He's a good man. A bit hard headed but I'm sure you two will get along great. Eventually."
That last word had me a bit worried. How tough was this new sheriff? How bad could he be? Would he slam the book at me or have the ability to overlook the chaos I cause, for the fact that it usually came with me only trying to do good somehow?
I pushed the chair back to where it was and slung my purse over my shoulder. By the time I turned to look at old Sheriff Cleat, he was out cold snoring lightly. I stood there for a minute looking at the man who spent a lifetime either rescuing me, scolding me, fixing the paperwork so I didn't get arrested or just driving me around in the back of his police cruiser explaining to me how I might have wanted to handle that particular situation differently. My memories with him started at three, and now I felt a bit sad that this was where our memories would end. I could only hope that the new sheriff wasn't going to be hard to break in.
With all this new information whirling through my mind, I set off from the hospital with a fresh determination. One, I was no longer going to go looking for trouble. Two, I was going to make it damn hard for trouble to find me. My new motto was look the other way, ignore it, and it will go away and run fast in the other direction if trouble starts coming. It wasn't the way I was raised, but it was the new way for me. I was tired of being everybody's butt end of their jokes and tired of trying to do the right thing only to find myself in more of a pickle than I was before trouble found me.
The long and winding road from the back ridge of the mountain range had my head clearing and my heart ready to start anew. If this plan of mine didn't work, then I was bound and determined to move somewhere, anywhere, to get a fresh start. Preferably somewhere, where no one knew me, not a single soul, or knew of me, or about me. I had already passed a stray dog on the side of the road and kept on driving. Although it killed me not to stop, I reminisced about the last time I stopped to help a stray dog find its owner. I never did replace that couch.
I passed an old truck with its hood up and some man leaning in over the engine. I mentally patted myself on my back. I did not stop. The last time I stopped, some crazy man abducted me and held me at a an old abandoned cafe back on route 119 until he keeled over from a heart attack while telling me about the alien abduction that was going to happen. That fiasco lasted for almost three months of conversation around town. Thank God for Deputy Dan's cross-dressing habits getting caught and aired on Utube. That was the only thing that could surpass my incident.
The ding of low gas pinged again in my car, and although I had enough to make it home, I also knew that I didn't need to worry about what might happen at the gas station. 'It's just gas' I mentally confirmed and pulled into the last gas stall and took a deep breath. Five minutes later, diet pop, large bag of peanut M&M candies and a full tank of gas, I decided that no harm or trouble was going to find me today.
I climbed into my bright yellow Mini Cooper and started back the way I came. The beautiful spring day had me optimistic that my plan was going to work. All the reminiscent talk from my three best friends and Sheriff Cleat was a cleansing ritual that had to be done. Sometimes you just have to walk back through history and retrace your steps in order to walk forward and start anew. At least in my mind it sounded good.
Not but two miles away from the gas station, something up ahead caught my attention. It was a vision of utter perfect bodily proportions. It was a Greek God or close enough. IT, was a man jogging towards me with his shirt off, perfect pectoral muscles, golden tan skin, large broad shoulders in unison with his thick muscular leg's jogging towards me. If I didn't know better I would have thought it was an optical illusion because Dreilling county did not produce these kinds of males in these here parts. Most were old, retired and potbelly men with fishing poles in one hand and a bucket of Mabel's best friend chicken in the other. So, I did the next best logical thing I could think of as I drove past the handsome stranger. I turned my head to check out his backside while my foot showed my excitement of the sexy man by pressing hard on the gas, and the front of my car went the same direction as my head, which found out quickly that my bright yellow Mini Cooper was not meant for four-wheel drive.
As fate would have it, I was just fine, not a mark on my body. My airbag deployed, my OnStar that my father insisted on buying me after wrecking my first three cars came on, and my car was at a ninety-degree angle wedged between two large boulders. My diet pop was still in my left hand; my quickly melting chocolate peanut M&M's in the palm of my hand that was holding my pop. My heart was pounding faster than a Nascar race car and the first thought that came to mind was "Maple county would be a nice place to live." That would be if they have never heard of me.
What I didn't realize was, that man who my mind and eyes were checking out as I drove past, was now talking to me from my open car window. I looked at him with a silly grin, catching a glimpse of his steel blue eyes and short authoritative dark hair cut, and then I closed my eyes. Because what I heard next was none other than him talking into his cell phone while competing with questions from OnStar. I didn't answer either but focused on the sound of the man's voice. It had a deep authoritative voice that talked like he knew what to say. Then I heard it. "This is the new Sheriff Cal Taylor. I've got a roadside emergency at mile marker 212. Send an ambulance, fire truck with Jaws of Life and a tow truck. Make that two. My truck broke down at 211. License plates for yellow Mini Cooper read LUCK4KIA. What? I see. No, she seems fine but her car is wedged between two boulders, and the doors won't open. Yup. I see."
He hung up his cell phone and put it back into his tan cargo shorts, grabbed his tee shirt that was in his hand and put it back on. I sneaked one last peek out of the corner of my eye and held onto that glorious pectoral image for a moment, before I put my hand out the window. I squinted my eyes at the glare of the sun as I looked up at the man who was going to be my new everyday rescue hero, at least until I can find a new job, new car and move to Maple county, where hopefully nobody ever heard of me or my strea
mline of chaos that I have created.
"Hi, I'm Kia Clark. We haven't met but..." He boldly interrupted me with a laughter I will never forget.
"Kia. We've met alright. I've been warned and just as I was told, it wouldn't be long before we met, but my first day! That was not what I was hoping for."
Chapter Three
So what if he had a file on me the size of a locker box. So what if he was warned. So what if he looked like a Greek God and had this authoritative manner that made every single ambulance, fire and tow person jump on his words. So what? Problem was; he insisted on driving me home, reading me the riot act like I was a five-year-old who just stole all the cookies from the cookie jar right before dinner. I know this because I have done it more times than I could count, and every time I did; I got the listen here speech. The very same one Sheriff Cal thought I should get again. As we pulled up to my place, he asked me one last time if I wanted to go to the hospital to get my head check out. However, before I could answer, he started to laugh at the inside joke he must have told himself, one that I was sure went something like mentally get checked out.
I got out and slammed the sheriff's car door. The one that the deputies brought to him at the scene of the accident to drive back to work in. I started stomping my feet up the walkway to my unit in the fourplex I lived at. Then I heard his authoritative voice holler out my name from behind me, and I turned to see him standing behind the cruiser with one arm resting on the open door and the other on the hood with a sexy grin that would make any girl drop to her knees. "Hey Kia?"
Of course, I melted from the sound of his voice, just like those M&M's melted in my hand while jaws for life opened up the roof of my car, but when I turned to take a look of my new handsome hero, his smile made my insides do the crazy roller coaster thing. It took me a second to reply with some sanity to my voice and to keep my knees from wobbling. "Yeah Cal?"
