Dogwood Days (2 page)

“That you are.” Jefferson slurped his coffee and thought through the dilemma. Clearly running the Holly Berries had driven Clover power crazy. Ah, life in a small town. “What does Charles think about this?”

“I have not spoken to
Mayor
Hollister about this issue.”

Uh-oh.
Uncle Sherman and Charles must be having another of their legendary spats. “But, Uncle Sherman—”

“No. I will not speak to that man until he comes to his senses.”

“But he—”

A loud crash sounded through the phone before everything went quiet.

“Uncle Sherman?” No response. “Uncle Sherman?” Jefferson yelled frantically into the phone, but his uncle still didn’t answer.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. Uncle Sherman!”

Trent wandered into the kitchen, dressed only in his boxers, and frowned at Jefferson. “Why’re you yelling?”

“My uncle. Something happened.”

“What?”

“I don’t know. Where’s your phone?” Jefferson asked.

“In my room.”

“Get it. Hurry.” Trent ran back into the bedroom and returned moments later with his cell phone in hand. Jefferson called out to his uncle once again but still didn’t hear anything.

Trent handed the phone over to Jefferson, who quickly did a search for the number of the county sheriff’s office. He dialed with Trent’s phone, still holding his own to his ear, hoping to hear something from his uncle.

“Blue Ridge County Sheriff’s Office,” a deep, masculine voice answered.

“Sheriff Zane?”

“Speaking.”

“This is Jefferson Lee Davis. I’m on the phone with Uncle Sherman, but something happened. I heard a crash, and now he’s not answering me. I don’t know what happened. I think he’s hurt.”

“I’m on my way, Jefferson Lee. Give me five minutes. Call me back at this number if you hear from him. I’ve got the office line forwarded to my cell.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“Not a problem. I’ll be there soon.”

What followed was the longest five minutes of Jefferson’s life. He heard the sheriff banging on the door, then his voice calling out to Sherman a moment later. The sheriff’s voice was in his ear a second after that. “Jefferson Lee, it looks like he’s had a bad fall. I need to hang up and call the ambulance, okay? You keep your phone handy, and I’ll call you the moment I know more.”

Jefferson’s hand shook as he hung up the phone.

Trent stared wide-eyed at him.

“He fell. He’s hurt,” Jefferson said.

“Go get in the shower.”

“What?”

“Jefferson, go get in the shower. You need to get dressed and get on the road. How far away is Holly Creek again?”

“About three hours.”

“Right. So get in the shower, and I’ll get you packed.”

Jefferson nodded numbly and ran for the bathroom, his cell phone still clenched tightly in his hand.

TRENT SOMEHOW
managed to get Jefferson packed and out the door within half an hour. He’d offered to drive Jefferson to Holly Creek, but Trent was heading into a forty-eight
-
hour shift at the fire station. If he called in, he’d get a lot of crap from the other firemen. While they were arguing about it, the sheriff had called and told him that they were taking Sherman to Blue Ridge Memorial and he’d call as soon as he had an update. Jefferson had shooed Trent off to work, then drove as quickly as he dared along I-40, desperate to get to his uncle and see for himself what had happened.

By the time Jefferson arrived at the hospital, he was a nervous wreck. He didn’t remember the majority of the drive at all. The sheriff was standing outside the emergency room entrance with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Jefferson hurried over to him, anxious for an update.

The sheriff gave him a look, one dark eyebrow arched, as he ended his call and put his cell phone away. “Jefferson Lee, it takes three hours to get here from Charlotte.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It has been just over two hours since I last called you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re lucky I don’t charge you with reckless driving. What would your uncle say?”

Jefferson shrugged. “He’d probably ask me what took me so long.”

Sheriff Zane glared at his flip response. What did he expect? He knew as well as Jefferson did that was exactly what Uncle Sherman would say.

“So what have you heard?”

“Let’s head inside. Quincy and Mary Caroline are in the waiting room. They can update you.”

“Okay.” Jefferson turned for the doors, only to be pulled up short by the sheriff’s hand on his arm.

“Jefferson Lee, you mean too much to your uncle to drive like a maniac. Do you hear me?”

“I hear you.”

“I would have called.”

“I know,” Jefferson said. “I just had to get here. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“I bet. Now, go on. See if the doc has come out yet.”

Jefferson nodded and rushed inside. The sheriff stayed beside him. Quincy and Mary Caroline were sitting together in the waiting room. They both stood at his approach.

“Any news?” Jefferson asked.

“Not much,” Quincy answered. “That’s why we haven’t called. We know he’s got a broken leg, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet. Doc thinks he has a bad concussion, so they’re doing some tests.”

The sheriff made a funny huffing noise that drew Jefferson’s attention. “We, uh, didn’t call the mayor. He’s off on a fishing trip and, well….” His voice drifted off, and he winced.

Jefferson patted the sheriff on his shoulder. “I know. They’re fighting again. I’ll call Charles once we know more.”

The sheriff let out a sigh of relief. “Um, one more thing. The, uh, ambulance was right out front.”

“So the whole town knows something happened. Gotcha.”

“Does anyone want some coffee?” the sheriff asked, obviously relieved that he didn’t have to spell things out to Jefferson. An ambulance in front of Sherman Davis’s house would be big news in Holly Creek. Nope, Jefferson didn’t need the ramifications explained to him at all.

“Coffee would be amazing,” Jefferson replied, as did Quincy and Mary Caroline.

The sheriff nodded. “Figured as much. I’ll be back in a few.”

“Poor Zane,” Mary Caroline sighed once the sheriff was out of earshot.

“Poor Zane?” Jefferson asked.

“His phone will be blowing up about this within the hour. Everyone’s just waiting to hear something, and the longer we go without news, the more everyone’s going to freak out.”

Quincy nodded. “She’s got a point. What the hell happened, Jefferson Lee? Zane said you were on the phone with him when he fell.”

Jefferson eyed his cousin, not missing the dark circles under his eyes. Quincy was only a year younger than him, and they had often been mistaken for brothers. Quincy’s dirty-blond hair was a mess, though, and his normally tan skin had a greenish pallor. Jefferson could only imagine that he looked the same. Stress was not a good look on the Davis boys.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I just heard a crash. When he didn’t answer me, I called Sheriff Zane.”

“The sheriff has one of his deputies looking around the house to see if they can figure out what happened. Otherwise, we’ll just have to wait until Uncle Sherman wakes up.”

“Okay, I’m going to call Gracie. She’ll let everyone know we’re still waiting, and that’ll keep them off our backs for a while.”

Quincy and Mary Caroline both nodded with relief.

Jefferson quickly dialed the number, laughing to himself that he still remembered it by heart.

“Gracie’s Diner, how may I help you?”

“Gracie?” Jefferson recognized the old woman’s voice immediately. “It’s Jefferson Lee.”

“Jefferson Lee! How’s Sherman?”

“We don’t know yet. I wanted to call you with an update so you could spread the word for us. I’ll let you know as soon as we hear from the doctors. All I can tell you right now is that he’s had a fall. His leg is broken, and he probably has a concussion, but we’re waiting to hear if anything else is wrong.”

“Will he be all right?” Gracie’s voice trembled as she spoke.

“I’m sure he will. I’ll keep you posted, okay?”

“You do that. I’ll get the girls started making his favorite casseroles.”

“He’ll love that. Thanks, Gracie. I’ll call you as soon as I know more.”

Jefferson ended the call and then took a deep breath before he dialed another number.

“Hello.”

“Mayor Hollister?”

“Yes?”

“This is Jefferson Lee.”

The mayor’s breath hitched.

“He’s had a fall, Charles,” Jefferson said after a moment. “We don’t know all the details yet, but he’s at least got a broken leg. We’re at Blue Ridge Memorial now.”

“Okay. Okay.” The mayor took a deep breath. “He’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure he will be. I figured you’d want to know.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Don’t rush. You be safe. He’s going to want you whole and healthy so he can yell at you about whatever you two are fighting about this time.” Jefferson ignored the guilty twinge as he gave advice to the mayor that was too close to the words the sheriff had spoken to him.

Charles chuckled, but his breath hitched again. “The route for the Dogwood Festival parade. He never wants anything to change, but it makes more sense to go down Cherry Street instead of Spruce. There’s more room and better sidewalks.”

“Well, that seems logical to me. We’ll talk to him, okay?”

“Let me know how he is, Jefferson Lee. I’ll be there soon.”

As Jefferson ended his call with the mayor, the sheriff returned with steaming cups of coffee for them all. They sat and waited for Sherman’s doctor to appear. When he finally did, Jefferson jumped to his feet, with his cousin not far behind him.

“Quincy, Jefferson Lee. Good to see you both.”

“Dr. Alley. How is he?”

“Well, he’s broken his leg and has a pretty good concussion. He’s awake, though, and he’s as crabby as ever, so I’m taking that as a good sign. We’ve got an orthopedic doctor reviewing his X-rays now, but we’re hopeful that he’s not going to need surgery. He’ll be off his feet for a few days at least, possibly a bit more, and then will need to take it very easy for quite some time. But he should heal up just fine.”

“Oh, thank God,” Mary Caroline whispered.

“After I talk more to the specialist, I’ll let you know what we’ll be doing. For now he’s resting. Jefferson Lee, he wants to see you. Said he knew you’d be here since he’d scared you senseless.”

Jefferson smiled. “That he did, Doc.”

“You can come on back and see him. He needs his rest, though, so keep it short.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Sheriff Zane stood and gave Jefferson’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll go on and call Gracie with an update.”

“Thanks, Sheriff. I’ll call the mayor once I’ve seen him.”

The sheriff nodded. “I’ll be in there shortly to talk to him.”

“Understood.”

Quincy and Mary Caroline sat back in the waiting room chairs. Jefferson turned to them. “You guys want to head back home? Get some rest? I’ll stay, and you guys can come back later.”

Quincy nodded. “I need to close up the store for the night and make up a new schedule for the staff. One of us will have to be here with him, or he’ll drive the nurses crazy.”

“I’ll stay for a few days,” Jefferson said. “I have a feeling he’ll make you two crazy if I don’t.”

“Thanks, Jefferson Lee. I’m sure he would. Besides, now that you’re here, he’s going to want you to hang around for a bit.”

Jefferson followed the doctor back to his uncle’s room. He took a deep breath before he entered, then pasted on his sauciest grin and pushed the door open.

Uncle Sherman lay on the bed, still and quiet. His glasses weren’t on his face, and his normally carefully combed hair stood up at all angles. Jefferson walked over to the bed and perched carefully on the edge of the mattress.

Sherman opened his eyes and reached out to pat Jefferson’s leg. “I knew you were here.”

“Course I am. Heck, Uncle Sherman, I knew you wanted me to make a trip to Holly Creek, but did you really have to go to such drastic measures?”

Sherman chuckled, then groaned. “Apparently so. Got you here, didn’t it?”

“That you did.”

“Can’t believe I fell.”

“The sheriff is here. He’ll be in soon to find out what happened.”

Sherman nodded. “We have more important matters to discuss.”

“We do?”

“
Jolly Holly Creek
.”

“Uncle Sherman—”

“You’ve got to take over the blog for me while I’m recovering, Jefferson Lee. You’re the only one who can do it.”

“But Quincy—”

“God bless your cousin, but he couldn’t manage the politics of it if his life depended on it. And no way am I letting Clover Crofton, bless her heart, or one of her minions get her hands on my baby.”

Jefferson started to suggest Mary Caroline, then snapped his mouth shut. His cousin’s wife was already in enough hot water with the Holly Berries without taking over the town blog. “Crap on a cracker.”

Sherman patted his leg again. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

Before Jefferson could come up with another suggestion, the door to the room opened, and Sheriff Zane poked his head inside. “Hey there, Mr. Davis.”

“Sheriff Zane, I’ve told you a million times to call me Sherman. Sorry to cause you so much trouble on your day off.”

“Not a problem. Dangers of the job. You want to tell me what happened?”

“That depends.”

The sheriff frowned. “On what?”

“On what you plan on putting in the official report, which you know Selma Jane will read.”

His unspoken “and tell the entire town” didn’t have to be added.

“Understood. How about you tell me what actually happened, and then I’ll write up a report after the fact.” Sheriff Zane didn’t have to explain that he’d leave certain facts out. He clearly knew how the town’s gossip mill worked.

“Well, I went by Burkey’s Market this morning to pick up a few things. While I was talking on the phone to Jefferson Lee, I was putting the groceries away and trying to figure out how to convince Mayor Hollister not to change the route on the Dogwood parade. Jefferson Lee and I were trying to figure out how to get Clover off Beau Granville’s back before the Rose Festival.”