Dogwood Days (7 page)

Mary Caroline looked slightly terrified, so he turned to Clover.

“I thought I’d come by and apologize to Mary Caroline. See if we can start fresh.”

Jefferson blinked at her for a long minute. Opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again. Blinked one more time for good measure.

“Seriously?”

Clover ignored him and turned her attention to Mary Caroline. “I’m sure if you’d met Jefferson prior to the wedding, you’d have realized what a bad plan it was to marry into the Davis’s.”

Mary Caroline’s eyes widened. Jefferson snorted.

“It’s sad, really,” Clover continued. “The rest of the family is so lovely. Something is obviously off in his genetic code, I’m afraid. It happens to the best families.”

Mary Caroline’s eyebrows were so high they nearly disappeared into her perfect auburn hairline.

Jefferson shrugged and set the tea down on the coffee table.

Clover slapped his leg again. “Coaster, Jefferson Lee. Were you raised in a barn?”

“Would you stop hitting me, woman? I swear.” He moved the mug onto one of the coasters and leaned back again. “Happy now?”

She ignored him yet again. “Mary Caroline, thank you so much for the tea and the talk. I need to get some errands done, but I’m glad we cleared the air. Perhaps you’d consider coming to this week’s meeting of the Holly Berries?”

Mary Caroline nodded. “I’d love to, Clover. That’s so nice of you.”

“We’d love to have you. I’ll see you then.”

Clover shot Jefferson the fakest smile he’d ever seen and walked to the door.

“Hey, Clover! Will you make me some of those sausage ball things?”

“No.”

“Please? Come on, Clover. Pretty please?”

“As if. Make your own. See you later.”

Clover waved, and Mary Caroline closed the front door. She collapsed back against it. “Did that really happen? Did Clover Crofton just have tea with me and invite me to a Holly Berries meeting?”

“Pretty sure. Yep.”

“I think I’m in the twilight zone.”

“Nah. Pretty sure it’s another day in old Holly Creek. So why don’t you show me this
Southern Living
-worthy backyard of yours?”

“Oh, sure. Beau is so amazing. You’ll love it.”

She wasn’t kidding. They went through french doors at the back of the house and into a yard that should have been on the cover of every gardening magazine in existence. “Holy crap.”

The entire yard was filled with plants. Not many were blooming yet, but Jefferson could imagine that in a few weeks, this would be absolutely stunning. By summer, it would be completely breathtaking. No wonder Clover was ready to wage war.

“Yeah. It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Mary Caroline’s voice held so much wonder, Jefferson had to smile. She really was a sweet lady. His cousin had chosen well.

“Beau did
all
this?” Jefferson asked.

“Yeah. He has so much talent. I think he needed to focus his attention on something for a while. He wasn’t okay when he got to Holly Creek, you know?”

“No, I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “We’ve always been so close, but he won’t even tell me what had him so twisted up in knots. He wasn’t right at the wedding, not himself at all. He did some stuff for me as a surprise for our wedding gift, but then he showed up a couple months later. He tore this yard apart and rebuilt it. Worked from sunup to sundown for months. And then one day, he was my old Beau again, and my yard looked like this.”

So Beau had a past. Jefferson wondered if he could be of service getting over said past. Sounded like Beau had worked through some of it already. He imagined the man’s cool blue eyes leaning closer to him the other day, and then an image of the sheriff sitting across the table from him the night before popped into mind. The sheriff had blue eyes, too, but kinda lightish and more warm than anything, which was odd to say about blue eyes.

Weird. What the hell was he doing noticing the sheriff’s eyes? The man wanted to lock him up. Now Beau, on the other hand…. Beau, he wanted to get to know a lot better. His mind didn’t seem to agree, and an image of the sheriff laughing as he’d whined about the blog came to mind. Zane really did have a great laugh.

Really weird. Maybe they were in the twilight zone after all.

“Well, Mary Caroline. I’m off to the high school to take some random pictures of birdhouses for the blog. Thanks for showing me your yard and for the tea.”

“You’re welcome, Jefferson Lee. Would you and Uncle Sherman like to come over for dinner tomorrow night?”

“That would be nice. Let me check with him and make sure he thinks he’s up for it. I’ll call you later.”

Jefferson gave her a quick hug and made his way toward the high school. The walk was a little farther than he’d remembered, and Jefferson regretted not wearing his sneakers for the trip. They weren’t as nice as his leather boots and didn’t look nearly as good with the shirt and vest combination he’d decided made him look very bloggerly.

Not that anyone in Holly Creek gave a crap, but he’d realized the shirt and vest combo worked really well on him. With a sigh, Jefferson accepted the fact that he’d have blisters by the time he made it back to Uncle Sherman’s. Served him right for thinking he could do a walk about the town. Maybe he should talk Uncle Sherman into getting a golf cart. They could probably write it off as an expense for the blog.

He somehow doubted Uncle Sherman would agree with him. Finally the high school came into view, and Jefferson didn’t have to look far to find the birdhouses Owen had mentioned. They were hanging outside the school’s shop on a weird clothesline-type contraption that the shop teacher must have built.

Weird. So much weird in this town. Jefferson wondered for a moment if it was contagious before he started snapping pictures of the birdhouses. He’d taken a few dozen pictures and started the walk back to town when the sheriff’s cruiser pulled up beside him.

“Are you kidding me?” Jefferson grumbled as the sheriff stopped and rolled down his window.

“So you must be the strange man who was taking pictures of the school.”

“Strange? I’m not strange! What?”

“Selma Jane got a call from Mr. Cornwall, who said some strange man was prowling around outside the school taking pictures.”

“Oh my God. This town!”

Zane cackled and gestured to the other side of the car. “Hop in, and I’ll give you a ride back to town.”

Jefferson grumbled under his breath but did as the sheriff suggested, since his feet were killing him.

Zane picked up the radio and gave Jefferson an amused look as he pressed the button. “Selma Jane? It’s Sheriff Zane.”

“Sheriff, did you find the prowler?”

“I did. It was Jefferson Lee. I’m taking him back to town now.”

“What on earth was Jefferson Lee doing taking pictures out at the high school?”

Jefferson scowled and pulled the radio from the sheriff’s hand. “Hey, Selma Jane. I was trying to be nice and take some pictures of the birdhouses the kids worked
so
hard on for the blog. Guess I shouldn’t bother putting them up now as everyone will think I’m crazy. It’s a real shame, because they did
real
good work on them.”

“Oh no! Jefferson Lee! You’ve got to put those pictures on the blog. The kids would be so tickled, and think what their parents would say if they had their kids’ work on the blog. I’ll talk to Mr. Cornwall and make sure he knows. Don’t you worry about a thing, sugar.”

“Thanks, Selma Jane. If you’re sure… I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Nonsense. You were doing a good thing. I’ll make sure everybody knows.”

Jefferson smirked at Zane as he handed the radio back.

“I really should arrest you after that god-awful performance,” Zane said as he put the radio back onto the holder.

“What?”

“Manipulating Selma Jane like that. Making her do your dirty work. What were you thinking going around taking pictures at the school, Jefferson Lee?”

“I was thinking that I needed pictures of something springy for the blog, and Owen told me that his brother had just made a birdhouse, and I thought it was a good idea for the pictures!”

“Next time, stay away from the school, would ya? I’d hate to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

“No, you wouldn’t! You’re dying to arrest me!”

The sheriff simply turned his eyes back to the road. After a few minutes, he pulled up in front of Uncle Sherman’s house and stopped the car.

Jefferson opened the door and stormed out. He slammed the door behind him and turned to glare at the sheriff. Zane lowered the window and smiled. “You aren’t going to invite me in?”

“No! And your eyes aren’t that nice anyway!”

With a huff, Jefferson turned and stomped his way up the driveway. He slammed the front door behind him, causing Uncle Sherman to call out from the study. Jefferson stormed into the room and dropped the camera on his uncle’s lap, barely missing Sissy, who’d curled up next to his uncle. She gave him a warning meow that promised retribution before curling back up. Jefferson glared at her, then turned his frown on his uncle.

“There. Your spring pictures. I’m going… hell, I don’t know. There’s nowhere to go. I’m going to my room!”

JEFFERSON GROANED
his frustrations into the phone and heard Trent’s sympathetic
tsk
from the other side.

“No good prospects, then?” Trent asked.

“Nothing. Journalism is not the job market to be in right now. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I spent half the night pouting and the other half scouring the Internet for a decent reporting job.”

“Well, don’t worry about the rent. I can cover it for a couple months.”

“Aww, man. You don’t have to do that. I’ll figure something out.”

“I know. It’s not a big deal, Jefferson. You’d do the same for me, and you know it.”

He had a point.

Jefferson sighed. “You’re the best, Trent. Thank you. I’ll be here for a while with Uncle Sherman, I guess. I can’t decide if I love it in Holly Creek or hate it.”

“You love it. Who do you think you’re kidding?”

“Did you know they called the cops on me for taking pictures outside the school?”

“Why the hell were you doing that? That’s creepy, man. You can’t just go and take pictures of people’s kids.”

“Trent! I was taking pictures of the damn birdhouses. And then I told the sheriff his eyes weren’t that nice. Urgh!”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Never mind. It just means I made an ass out of myself.”

“So the sheriff’s hot, huh?”

“No! Well… no. Yes. I don’t know! He’s the damn sheriff, and he wants to arrest me. He said so!”

“He wants to arrest you? He actually said he wants to arrest you? For what?”

“Huh. Now that you mention it, he actually said he wanted to cuff me. But still!”

“Oh, kinky. Didn’t know you had a uniform kink, Jefferson. Does seeing me in my firefighting getup get you all hot and bothered?”

“Yes, Trent. It makes me want to strip you naked and hose you down for being an asshole.”

Trent laughed, and Jefferson scowled at the phone.

“Calling you was supposed to make me feel better.”

“Sorry. Well, not really ’cause that’s damn funny. So the sheriff has a thing for you, huh?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“You sure about that?”

Jefferson scrunched up his nose. “No. Yes. I don’t know. He told me to call him Zane.”

“Oh, scandalous. Maybe he doesn’t have a thing for you after all.”

With a huff Jefferson rolled over to his side and switched the phone to his other ear. He’d not wanted to crawl out of bed this morning, so he’d decided to harass his roommate instead. Big mistake that had turned out to be.

“The sheriff doesn’t have a thing for me. I don’t think. Why are we talking about him again?”

“You brought him up.”

“I did not.”

“Yes, you did. Something about his eyes.”

“Hmm. I guess I did. He does have nice eyes. I don’t know. It’s weird. Have I told you about Beau?”

“No, who’s that?”

“He’s my cousin Quincy’s wife Mary Caroline’s cousin.”

“I’d ask you to repeat that, but I don’t care.”

“Shut up. He’s really hot. Like, makes me want to tear his clothes off and do bad, bad things to him hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. He was over here the other day, and we were
this
close to kissing. Man, I thought my dick was going to explode right then and there.”

“In your pants? Wow. You’ve really not gotten laid in a long time.”

“Oh shut up. You know what I mean.”

“So what happened?”

“Clover happened.”

“Come again?”

“I wish I could,” Jefferson whined. “I really, really wish I could.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen. What’s clover?”

“Not a what. A her. Clover Crofton. I’ve told you about her before.”

“Pretty sure I’d remember you talking about someone named Clover. That’s the weirdest name I have ever heard.”

“You clearly were raised under a rock. Clover isn’t that weird of a name.”

“Yeah, it really is. So Clover interrupted? Do we hate her?”

“Nah, she makes a really great blackberry cobbler. Hard to hate anyone who can do that.”

“You are so weird.”

Jefferson whimpered. “Don’t say that. This entire town is weird, and I’m convinced I’m going to catch it.”

“Too late. So you going to try to hook up with this Beau guy? Kinda weird, since it sounds like he’s kinda related.”

“Not really. And yeah. Have I mentioned his arms? The man is a landscaper, and he has these muscles….”

“Better than mine?” Trent asked.

“Well, no. I hate both you and your perfect body. But close, how’s that?”

“I’ll take it. As long as I’m still the best.”

Jefferson cracked a smile. “You’re such an ass.”

“Yep. But I made you grin, and you know it.”

“You did. Suppose I’d better get up and face the day. Uncle Sherman’s probably trying to cook his own breakfast by this point.”

“Okay. I miss you. It’s too quiet in the apartment without you here.”