Colton: Sweet Southern Charmers Book 4

  Colton

  Sweet Southern Charmers, Volume 4

  Lori Wilde

  Published by Lori Wilde, 2019.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  COLTON

  First edition. November 22, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 Lori Wilde.

  ISBN: 978-1393533764

  Written by Lori Wilde.

  Colton

  Sweet Southern Charmers Book 4

  Lori Wilde &

  Carolyn Greene

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Excerpt: Reece

  About the Authors

  Also by Lori Wilde & Carolyn Greene

  1

  “Give it to me, sweetie. Don’t make me fight you for it.” April Hanson crouched lower with her hand outstretched to the beautiful but goofy golden retriever.

  Unfortunately, Maybelline had decided that a game of tag was in order. This happened every time she tried to teach the dog to fetch—only this time it was no newspaper they were battling over. The dog darted to one side, its rump stuck playfully in the air and a small gray object hanging from its mouth.

  Straightening, April ran a hand through the blonde bangs that tickled her forehead. The direct approach obviously wouldn’t work. But maybe she could distract Maybelline before the dog accidentally injured the baby squirrel she’d found.

  Assuming a nonchalance she didn’t feel, she strolled over to the base of the tree where the remains of the nest lay scattered on the ground. April guessed it had been ransacked by a hawk or an opossum.

  She bent and picked up a burl from the ground. Maybelline’s ears pricked forward in curiosity, and April teased the dog with the gnarled wood, holding it first behind her back, and then swinging it from side to side, just out of Maybelline’s reach.

  Just as she’d hoped, the retriever couldn’t resist. When the small gray bundle dropped, forgotten, from the dog’s mouth, April hurled the bit of wood as hard as she could into the thicket and made a move to run after it herself.

  Sure enough, Maybelline rose to the challenge and went dashing off after it.

  April gently picked up the young squirrel. Fortunately, it seemed unharmed by not only the nest marauder but Maybelline’s teeth, as well. She cradled the squirrel to her chest in an attempt to warm it. The poor creature’s eyes were not yet open, leading April to guess it was only about three or four weeks old.

  “Poor sweet baby,” she cooed. “You really got off to a rocky start, didn’t you?”

  Running a finger lightly over the tiny body, April hoped the squirrel hadn’t been too stressed by the recent events in its short life. When it curled into a ball, April tucked the sleepy foundling down between her T-shirt and outer shirt. It squirmed until it found a comfy spot at her waist, then settled down for a nap. She would have to get little Rocky home soon and find him some milk.

  April remounted her horse and placed a protective hand around the makeshift baby carrier. This was so typical of the way things turned out for her. She’d been wanting a baby of her own and look at what she ended up with. If that was how God answered prayers, then she supposed He must have a really whacked sense of humor.

  On the ride back to the campground office, April quickly finished her inspection, making note of fallen trees that needed to be cleared, as well as a blockage in the swollen stream that meandered its way to the man-made lake below.

  Maybelline nosed in a pile of leaves, found a dried pinecone, and dashed away with the prize in her mouth. April touched her heels to the horse’s ribs. The horse paused to nibble from a low-hanging branch.

  “Come on, Daisy, let’s go back to the stable and get some hay instead of those yucky dead leaves.”

  It was a beautiful spring morning. The Virginia weather had grown warm enough for shirtsleeves, and the trees had started budding, some of which burst forth with bright-green leaves.

  The small bay mare, unable to contain her pent-up energy, stamped her hoof when April refused to loosen the reins for a gallop back to the stable.

  When they neared the camp store, she noticed that the crocus bulbs she’d planted last fall had sprung up several inches in just a few days. A robin landed among the new shoots, snagged a blade of dry grass, and carried it off in its beak, presumably to line its nest.

  “Good grief, it looks like the whole world is full of birth and new life.”

  Daisy’s ears swiveled back at the brittle tone in her rider’s voice.

  “What are you looking so innocent for?” April asked. “I haven’t forgotten how you decided to go gallivanting through the countryside, looking for a date. Old Man Grissom hasn’t been the same since you stood outside his paddock, batting your eyelashes at his prize jumper stallion until Majesty’s Thunder came over the fence after you.”

  The mare shook her mane, making it seem as though she was disagreeing with what April said.

  “Knowing my luck, you’re probably in foal and I’ll have to pay a huge stud fee.” Begrudgingly, she added, “At least you know how to pick ’em.”

  Unlike me, she added mentally and rubbed the tiny bundle at her waist. If she’d known how to pick a mate, she’d be married and have a houseful of snotty-nosed kids by now. April sighed.

  What she wouldn’t give to have a half dozen little noses, mouths, hands, and butts to wipe. Instead, at thirty-six, the sound of her biological clock was no longer just ticking but clanging away like crazy.

  She loved the children she worked with as camp activity director, but April didn’t know if she’d be able to take another season of watching parents flaunting their children. She knew they didn’t actually flaunt them, but her long-unfulfilled desire to have a baby of her own made their teasing comments feel like a physical punch—right in the womb. “You want kids? Take mine.” If only those people knew how much she wanted to take them up on their joking offers.

  She rode up to the hitching post in front of the camp store, and her business partner stepped out onto the board planks.

  Colton Radway stood there, looking at her … expectantly.

  Of course.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “How about dinner and a movie tonight?” he suggested as he had every day for the past couple of years.

  And just as she had done every day he asked that question, she ignored it. “No, really, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. Your niece called.”

  “Nicole? What did she want?”

  Colton, her lifelong best friend and the man whom only she referred to as “Buddy,” rocked back on his heels and rubbed the tension from his eyebrows. She’d seen that gesture a million times before, and usually it meant trouble.

  “She didn’t want anything. She has something to tell you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a cell phone.

  “Oh, my gosh, something’s wrong. I know it is.”

  He handed her the phone. “So, call her then.”

  “No.”

  She swung her leg over Daisy’s neck. As she jumped down, Colton caught her waist, then cast a curious eye at the movement under her shirt.

  “Squirrel,” she said in explanation.

  Obviously accustomed by now to the many orphaned creatures she brought back with her to mother, he didn’t question further. H
e waited for her to take the cell phone.

  Standing in front of him, closer now but still well below his eye level, April pushed the phone away. “The last two times Nicole called with something to tell me, she’d either eloped with that computer geek or been involved in a car accident.”

  Family members often said Nicole was enough like April to be her clone. So, it was no wonder that whenever her twenty-two-year-old niece got into trouble, she called her aunt to help her out of it.

  “You know how I am with bad news,” April told Colton. “Just tell me what she said so I can prepare for the worst.”

  Exasperated, Colton blurted, “You’re going to be a great aunt. Okay?”

  At April’s strangled gasp, Daisy turned to look at her. April could have sworn the horse smiled.

  Great aunt! She was too young to be a great aunt. Great aunts were always old, with gnarled, arthritic hands and thick bifocals. Just last year, April had to get glasses for the first time after she started having difficulty reading small print.

  She looked down at her hands and studied the sprinkling of brown dots that she’d seen a million times and only just now really noticed. She’d always assumed they were freckles. But what if they were liver spots?

  “Is something the matter?” Colton asked.

  Of course, something was the matter. Her niece was pregnant, and she wasn’t!

  Colton pushed his ever-present Western hat back from his forehead and rubbed his eyebrows.

  “I’m only thirty-six.”

  “True, but Nicole is a grown woman. Besides, she’s married, so there’s no reason to get upset.”

  The comment was a veiled reference to her mother’s reaction to her sister’s senior-year announcement that she was pregnant. The elder Hanson had reacted poorly to Stella’s having a baby out of wedlock. Things hadn’t changed much since then. Most of the folks in the small town of Bliss had similar traditional thoughts, and heaven help the person who failed to abide by their expectations.

  “Yes, thank goodness she’s married,” April agreed. “Looks like Nicole managed to get John’s mind off his computer—at least once.”

  Colton studied her for a moment, a concerned frown marring the handsome lines of his face. Then he put an arm around her shoulders. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

  He was right. Perhaps her problem with John was jealousy. Nicole had someone with whom to start a family. And she didn’t.

  “Yeah, I suppose he’ll be a good father.” She looked up at Colton and smiled. “He’d better be a good father.”

  Colton smiled and handed her the phone. “Call Nicole. She can’t wait to tell you the good news.” He took Daisy’s reins and turned to lead her back to the stable. Speaking over his shoulder, he added, “And try to sound like it’s the first time you heard it.”

  April held the phone in her liver-spotted hands. Without her glasses, the numbers on the keypad were slightly blurred from this distance. She held the appliance at arm’s length and squinted. There, that was better.

  A sudden sense of panic came over April. If she was ever going to have a baby, she needed to do it now. If she waited any longer, she’d have gray hair by the time her child was ready to enroll in kindergarten.

  This was ridiculous. First, she spent a couple of years married to the wrong man. Then she spent several more years looking for the right man who, by the way, never showed up. After that, she devoted most of her energy to working with Colton to turn the campground into a profit maker.

  As the years slowly slipped away, so did her opportunities for finding a good husband and father. Most of the men in her age range were either firmly married or entering their midlife crises and looking for women at least ten years younger than April. With each passing year, the slim pickings became even more meager.

  A growing plume of dust in the distance caught her attention. Down the graveled road that led into the campground, a small dot of a car approached. Probably a family coming for an early-in-the-season weekend camping trip. She hoped they didn’t have a baby or toddler with them.

  The coming summer months would only bring more babies, toddlers, and elementary school-age children to their campground, and she would be responsible for keeping them entertained with age-appropriate activities. She knew she couldn’t take another season of coveting other people’s children.

  She closed the cover on the phone. She would call her niece after she got this family settled into a campsite. And even if she had to grit her teeth while doing it, she would sound happy for Nicole.

  Watching the dust plume come closer, April felt her spirits lift as soon as she settled upon a course of action. There’s no time like the present, Colton always said.

  Little Rocky wiggled at her waist as if to reinforce the thought that had entered her head.

  She was going to have a baby no matter what it took. A smile formed on her lips, and relief settled over her heart at the decision she’d made. Making up her mind was the easy part. The true test of character would be following through with the plan.

  The car pulled into the parking lot, but this was no family to torment her with a car full of adorable children. It was one of the sheriff’s department vehicles.

  The deputy got out, stretched, and took a leisurely look around.

  “The camping season has hardly started,” April said. “Surely Mrs. Turner doesn’t have anything to complain about already.”

  The man closed the car door and pocketed the key. Stepping forward with a swagger that seemed forced on someone of his short stature, he hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and smiled. The weekend deputy’s name badge, obviously carefully polished, winked at her in the sunlight. Dugg, it read. She’d heard he was a salesclerk at Reece Masardi’s feed and seed store Monday through Friday. His part-time job, however, was what he lived for.

  “It’s not your campers that’s bothering Mrs. Turner this time,” he drawled. “I understand you have a young hoodlum working for you now.”

  “Steven is a kid who’s trying to turn his life around. I won’t have anyone, including you, referring to him in that manner.”

  As he drew himself up and squared his shoulders, April could tell she’d made a mistake. Despite his effort at appearing more authoritative, her riding boots gave her an inch on him in height. That and her statement served to undermine the tenuous hold he had on the respect he seemed to crave. But right now, April didn’t care about his personal agenda. She was more concerned about Steven.

  Dugg had been a repeat visitor to their campground ever since the elderly Bea Turner had moved into the house at the near corner of the campground last summer. He seemed to relish the “showdown” between the two neighbors and gleefully issued repeated warnings and citations. A couple of times she and Colton had had to appear in court for disturbing the peace, all because of the dance contests she staged for the teenagers each Friday night during their busy season. The music was always silenced by eleven o’clock, but that never stopped the determined deputy from writing up yet another darned citation.

  The woman had not stopped complaining since she’d moved in. There had been letters to the editor of the local newspaper, griping to other residents, and even an attempt to raise a petition against the campground’s “noisy activities.”

  Fortunately, no one other than Mrs. Turner had a complaint against them. But she was still managing to make life difficult for them.

  Since most of their activities took place on the weekends, they’d come to know the over enthusiastic Alexander Dugg better than they would have liked.

  Colton returned from the barn and stood beside April in a show of solidarity. The twitching muscle in his jaw was his only outward sign of annoyance. His voice came out in a deep rumble. “Is there a problem, Deputy Dugg?”

  April almost smiled as her partner slurred the last two words until they sounded like the name of an old-time cartoon dog. There was no mistaking he’d done it intentionally.

  “It seems as though
that reform school dropout of yours was loitering behind your neighbor’s shed yesterday. And now she’s missing some tools that she stored out there.” He paused, then added in a serious tone, “They belonged to her late husband.”

  April’s humor disappeared at the allegation leveled against the teen Colton had taken under his wing. Initially, he’d been against having a boy from the juvenile corrections facility working for them. But after he’d come to know Steven, he came to see he’d been wrong in assuming the worst about him.

  “Steven works hard here,” she said. “He doesn’t have the time or the desire to get into trouble.”

  The boy had been on that section of the campground property yesterday, repairing loose boards and pounding nails that had worked their way out of the salt-treated wood fence. But April had no doubt that he’d stayed on campground property. He was trying hard to prove himself to Colton. The teen wouldn’t throw it away by doing something as foolish as what the deputy was implying.

  Colton straightened the tall brown hat that often served as an indicator of his moods. Today, perched menacingly low over his scowling brow, it sent a clear warning. He frowned at Dugg.

  “Are you here to press charges?”

  “No, no,” Dugg insisted, waving his hands. “There isn’t enough evidence. But I am here to issue a warning. Perhaps you could hint to the boy that if those tools are mysteriously returned to Mrs. Turner—undamaged—then we’ll forget about the whole incident. Provided, of course, no other items disappear from her property in the future.”

  April was about to tell him what he could do with those tools, but Colton placed a firm hand on her shoulder. When she opened her mouth to speak, he quelled her protest with a slight shake of his head.