Colton: Sweet Southern Charmers Book 4 Page 3

  “Someone came into my yard and took some of my crafting supplies.” Steven caught the significant look she threw him before continuing. “I had been crocheting a Gone with the Wind doll for my sister Marlene’s granddaughter. That dear girl loves the color blue, don’t you know, so I was using a variegated blue yarn for Scarlett’s dress and hat. Got it on sale at Walmart the last time Marlene drove me to town.”

  Steven shoved his hands into his pockets, wishing she’d get to the point so he could prove his innocence and get back to work. April and Colton merely exchanged patient glances, which Mrs. Turner obviously interpreted as curiosity about her shopping habits.

  “She comes for me every so often,” she explained, “and we go shopping and have lunch at the cafeteria. Sometimes we even go over to the flea market, but you gotta be careful when you buy stuff there because they’ll call old junk an antique and try to charge you more than it’s worth.”

  Steven shifted beside April. “What’s that got to do with—”

  April whacked him with her elbow, and while he rubbed his ribs, she asked politely, “What about your doll, Mrs. Turner?”

  The older woman adjusted her blue-rimmed glasses and stared through them at Steven. “Well, I went into the house for a glass of iced tea, and it took a few minutes longer than I expected. I’d forgotten to add the sugar after I brewed it the day before, so the sugar wouldn’t melt, what with all the ice in it. And I despise that artificial sweetener which Marlene says melts faster, but I wouldn’t know because I don’t use it.”

  This time Colton shifted as he pushed his ever-present hat off his forehead and rubbed his eyebrows. “And when you came back outside…” he prompted.

  Mrs. Turner straightened her small body and placed a hand on her well-rounded hip. “If you’ll refrain from interrupting, young man, I’ll finish telling you what happened.”

  Steven didn’t have to look at his employer to know that his expression never changed from respectful concern. He wished he had Colton’s restraint. If it weren’t for the seriousness of the accusation against Steven, it would be all he could do to keep from laughing at the old broad’s craziness.

  “And when I came back a few minutes later,” Mrs. Turner proceeded, “the doll form was missing. The yarn and dress I’d started were still there, but the plastic doll was gone.”

  It was such a stupid thing to make such a fuss over. But April was a peacemaker, even when it came to her crotchety neighbor. Steven scratched his chin as she tried to humor the old lady. “Are you sure it didn’t fall to the ground when you got up to go inside?”

  “Everything was topsy-turvy on the ground when I returned,” Mrs. Turner said. “Even my lawn chair. The only thing that wasn’t on the ground was the doll. And it wasn’t there because it had been stolen,” she declared, jabbing her pocketbook in Steven’s direction. “He must have knocked the chair over in his hurry to get away.”

  Steven opened his mouth in horrified indignation. It was bad enough being accused of theft, but even worse to be accused of stealing a doll. “What would I want with her stupid old—”

  Once again April’s elbow found a home against his ribs. Pressing a hand to his side, he wisely chose not to finish his sentence.

  He would have liked to tell the crazy woman what she could do with her doll, but it was just as well that April answered for him. “What he meant to say, Mrs. Turner, is that boys his age don’t play with dolls, so he had no reason to take it.”

  Mrs. Turner made a noise, pshaw-ing her statement. “She’s naked!”

  If Steven and Colton had been canines, their ears would have stood straight up.

  “Who’s naked?” Steven blurted, looking around him. Although it was obvious that Colton tried not to show it, his eyes were also peeled in preparation for an unexpected visual treat. If this was one of those male bonding moments his youth counselor had told him about, then Steven was all for it.

  “Why, Scarlett, of course.” Mrs. Turner lowered her voice and leaned toward April. “I know how a teenage boy’s mind works.”

  Right now, his mind was telling him to throw up.

  Steven could tell Colton was trying to keep a straight face. His mentor moved to the porch rail and rested his back pockets against it. “It seems to me that if a boy wanted to look at the female form, he wouldn’t need a toy to peek at. He could see the real thing on many television shows. Or the internet.”

  Obviously, their neighbor was not appeased by their attempts to explain away the missing doll. Mrs. Turner clutched her purse to her bosom and gingerly lowered herself down the single step from the porch to the grass-grown parking lot when April made another attempt to set things straight.

  “I have to go into town to buy some things for a family reunion,” April said. “I’d be happy to pick up a new doll and some yarn while I’m there.”

  “I don’t want your charity. I want the one who’s been stealing my stuff to return it and to apologize in person.” Mrs. Turner climbed onto the golf cart seat. “I should have known you two would take his side. I suppose I’ll have to call the youth facility myself and report what’s been happening since that boy came to work here.”

  The golf cart cranked to life, and Mrs. Turner puttered away without another word, the wind whipping her flowered jersey skirt to expose knee-high stockings that ineffectually camouflaged the varicose veins snaking across her calves.

  Steven and Colton noticed the fist-size rock in the driveway at the same time. Colton’s voice was quiet but deep with authority. “Don’t even think it.”

  Steven clenched his hands. Getting a job here at Cozy Acres with Colton and April was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. And now the old lady was threatening to mess everything up.

  April watched as emotions flickered across the boy’s face. Then, resignedly, Steven slid his hands into his pockets, clenched his teeth, and hissed something that sounded like “witch.”

  She hated to bring it up, hated that she was being forced into what might seem like an act of betrayal against the boy she’d grown so fond of these past few months. “You know we’re going to have to tell your youth counselor about this.”

  He kicked the rock he’d been eyeing earlier.

  April glanced at Colton, silently pleading for him to back her up. He hadn’t wanted Steven here in the first place. He had worried that the benefits of helping a kid who’d been in trouble with the law would be outweighed by the problems associated with helping him. She hoped he wouldn’t say “I told you so” in front of Steven.

  Maybe Colton was right when he had argued against having the teen work with them. Maybe she should have found another outlet for her mother hen urges. Even so, she believed in Steven. Mrs. Turner didn’t know him like she did. Didn’t know how hard he worked, even when he wasn’t aware of being watched. After some bumpy episodes the first few weeks, his anger had softened, and he seemed to be trying to please them with his promptness and by working as hard as a man twice his size. April hoped this episode with Mrs. Turner wouldn’t cause them to lose the ground they’d gained with Steven.

  Colton spoke so softly April could barely hear him. “It’s better that your counselor hears it first from us.”

  Although Steven was clearly agitated, he didn’t argue with Colton. But his knuckles whitened as he repeatedly clenched and relaxed his fingers.

  “The stalls need to be mucked,” Colton told him. “Why don’t you work off some of that steam while we try to get this mess straightened out.”

  It was a job Steven normally detested, but he jogged off toward the barn without a word of protest.

  April glanced up at Colton, grateful for his part in mentoring Steven, not just today but every day. She could have said the very same words or shown more compassion, but for some reason known only to teenage boys, the effect wouldn’t have been the same. “I hope he doesn’t take his anger out on the horses.”

  “He’ll be fine. I’m more concerned about him taking his ange
r out on Mrs. Turner.” Colton turned to go inside. “Let’s keep a close eye on him these next few days and don’t assign him any work near her property.”

  It was several days before April could get an appointment with the fertility specialist. She’d tried to talk Colton out of going with her, insisting she could take care of herself, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

  They fought the downtown traffic before finding the building next to an ancient townhouse that was being refurbished. The block held an assortment of houses, some of which had been converted to offices, all with neatly trimmed postage-stamp lawns. “This doesn’t look like such a bad neighborhood,” April observed.

  Colton reached for the gearshift and maneuvered into the opening at the curb. “This section is being revitalized, but two blocks over, the houses are run down and not far from there it can be dangerous. Just last week, there were two shootings.”

  April shivered despite the warmth of the spring day.

  “Makes me glad I live in Bliss. It’s a good place to raise a family.”

  Colton came around and opened the car door for her. “Yeah, it’s too bad your family won’t be complete.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  They walked past a row of purple pansies that lined the sidewalk to the clinic.

  “It means, what are you going to do when your kid asks about his dad? Show him a picture of a test tube?”

  He had opened the glass-paned door and was holding it for her, but she stopped and stared at her lifelong best friend. “I thought you understood why I’m doing this,” she said, more than a little hurt by his lack of support.

  “Just because I understand it doesn’t mean I agree with it. I just happen to think that a kid should grow up with both parents, like I did.”

  “Well, for your information, Colton Michael Radway, not everyone is as fortunate as you are.” April placed a hand on her hip and tried to stare him down, which was hard to do, considering he was at least six inches taller than she. “If you can’t be happy that I’m finally going to have what I’ve always wanted, then you can just leave right now. I won’t have you spoiling what could be the happiest event of my life.”

  He’d known her long enough to realize there was no arguing with her when she was like this. Shoot, he’d been trying for years to convince her to go out with him, to no avail.

  She had some cockamamie idea in her head that her first marriage didn’t work out because she’d married a friend, which was why she turned down his daily date invitations. Still, he couldn’t help driving home his point.

  “It’s just that I think this ‘happy event’ should take place in the privacy of your bedroom, preferably with someone you love.”

  Preferably with him. But if he even hinted at such a thing, she was liable to hit him with her pocketbook. Unfortunately, the subtle approach wasn’t working with her. And she only laughed, thinking he was joking whenever he tried the direct approach. Which left the sneaky approach.

  He’d have to give that some thought.

  “That’s easy for you to say. You go out. You have dates.” April shifted her purse strap to the other shoulder. “Do you have any idea how scarce eligible men are in Bliss County?”

  Colton moved his foot in front of the door and relaxed his grip on the handle. “Your mother says you’re too picky, and I happen to agree with her.”

  April rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started on that.”

  A woman in her fifties approached them with an armful of manila folders. The punch-label name tag on her brightly flowered dress read Aunt Sophie, Office Manager.

  “My, my, my! Is this any way to begin what could be the happiest event of your life?”

  Colton caught the smirk April sent his way.

  The woman directed her attention to April. “What is your name, dear?”

  “Hanson. April Hanson.”

  “Yes, of course! You’re right on time. Why don’t you come in, and I’ll have you fill out a medical history form.”

  They accompanied her to the desk, and April jutted her chin and maneuvered so that the office manager walked between them. But the overly familiar woman paid no heed to the tension between them and carried on an uncensored monologue about the many fertility problems she’d seen and the clinic’s high success rate for pregnancies.

  “If at first you don’t succeed,” the woman said cheerily, “well, we’ll keep trying until you do.”

  At the desk, she picked up a clipboard and handed it to April. “I love this job. I don’t have any children of my own,” Sophie confessed, “but I feel like an honorary aunt to the hundreds of babies who’ve come along since I started working here.”

  That would explain the name tag, April thought.

  “In fact, two of them have been named after me.”

  At that, Colton added dryly, “Girls, I hope.”

  Aunt Sophie giggled. “You’re such a kidder!” Then, to April, she added, “Good-looking, and funny, too. You’re a lucky gal.”

  April just smiled in response and took the form to the waiting room. Although there were a couple of sofas, she chose to sit in a chair in the corner, away from the others. Maybe Colton should have let her come by herself. By being here, his only accomplishment was in making them both miserable. He took a seat on the opposite side of the room.

  “Mr. Hanson,” Aunt Sophie called. Colton looked up and was surprised to find her looking at him. He checked to see if there might be another man in the room, but there were only three women.

  When he approached the desk, he corrected the mistake. No sense in making things worse. “I’m not Mr. Hanson,” he said. “The name is Radway.”

  The woman pushed her glasses down on her nose and peered over them. “I see,” she said, although it was clear she didn’t. She handed him a clipboard, and in her characteristically loud voice, said, “We’ll need you to fill this out, and soon we’ll call you back to the examining room where the doctor will measure the size of your, um, you know…family jewels.”

  By now, April had apparently forgotten about their tense encounter of a few minutes ago. Instead, she seemed to be enjoying herself … and his discomfort.

  “After that,” Aunt Sophie continued in the same loud voice and gestured down the hall, “you’ll take your cup into that room where you’ll watch a movie with no plot. Then, voila, pretty soon you and Miss Hanson will be in the family way.”

  He could have sworn he heard a snicker from April’s corner of the room. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he informed her. “I’m not the donor.”

  The woman’s demeanor changed from disapproval to one of sympathy. She patted his hand. “Don’t take it personally,” she said in an attempt at a whisper. Unfortunately, her booming voice seemed to be stuck at high volume. “Lots of men have sleepy tadpoles.”

  By now, April was cracking up. He glared at her, and it seemed to make an impression when she took a more serious attitude and came to stand beside him. She looped her arm through his and sidled close beside him.

  “It’s okay, honey,” April said, her voice oozing sympathy. “I love you just the way you are.”

  “But I…”

  Colton darted a glance from one woman to the other, realizing he was going nowhere fast. It was bad enough she’d come here against his advice. It was worse that she was determined to have a strange man’s baby when all she needed to do was open her eyes and look around her. But now, to top things off, his potency was suddenly the scrutiny of everyone within earshot.

  “You were right, dear,” he said, taking April’s hand from the crook of his arm.

  The women in the waiting room were openly watching the soap opera unfolding before them.

  It was plain to April that her teasing was about to backfire on her. She eyed him warily as he turned slightly, his voice carrying toward their audience in the waiting room.

  “I’ve been taking this all too personally. It doesn’t matter who the genetic father is…”

&
nbsp; He paused dramatically.

  “…as long as we love each other.”

  April looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. She tried to pull away, but Colton held her hand tightly in his.

  “This has been a difficult time for me—for both of us.”

  He lifted her hand to wipe away an imaginary tear at the corner of his eye, then held her palm against his cheek. When he kissed her fingers, April felt herself go weak in the knees.

  “But you’ve been the strong one throughout. I love you, April.” His voice cracked ever so slightly. “I always have, and I always will.”

  She heard a tiny sniff from the otherwise silent waiting room. Not so much as a magazine page crackled, not that three-year-old, finger-worn paper crackled anyway. Her lips were parted slightly as she started to say something in response, but she didn’t know quite what.

  Before she could react or even think of a funny rejoinder, Colton took advantage of her silence. He bent and touched his lips to her mouth. Once the kiss began, all thoughts fled her mind. All she could focus on was savoring the tantalizing nearness of him.

  His hands were warm and firm as they slid along her sides. She tensed as his fingertips made their way to her back, where they slid down to rest just above the curve of her bottom. She trembled in his arms and knew her reaction had nothing to do with the cold blast from the air conditioner.

  Her mouth softened under his kiss. Despite her initial resistance, she responded to his kiss, lifting her chin to offer full access to her lips, her neck, and…

  Colton glanced downward, and April became aware of his heated gaze. Crazily, she wanted his trail of kisses to trace the path that his eyes followed.

  He’d kissed her before, once in the sandbox at nursery school after she got sand in her eyes, and once during a truth-or-dare game at a birthday party. And then there was that time before either of them had experienced their first boy/girl, on-the-lips kiss. They’d been so afraid of making an embarrassing mistake on a date that they’d practiced on each other ahead of time.

  Her reaction to that practice kiss had been rather pleasant, in a teenage sort of way, but it was nothing compared to what she felt now.