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“If he was sorry, he would have already been here to apologize.He’s had all day.Speaking of which, it took you long enough to get here, Sheriff.I called and complained early this morning after seeing the Ring alert on my phone and it’s now almost dinnertime.”
Decker’s stomach knew it.After skipping lunch, he was starving.
“I’m sorry about that, Mrs.Nichols.I’ve had some more important issues to deal with.”He knew immediately that he’d misspoken by the pinched look on her face.
“What is more important than keeping derelicts from urinating on people’s petunias?”
He could have gone into detail about the semi that had flipped over in the wee hours of the morning.Thankfully, there had been no injuries, but it had still taken him and the highway patrol two hours to clear the highway and deal with irate travelers.Then there was the town meeting where he was called out for not issuing enough traffic violations because they needed more money to fix the potholes on the main road that ran through town.Which led to him setting up a speed trap.Which led to the main reason for his bad day.
Sweetheart Mae Holiday was back in town.
And she was still as spoiled and stubborn ...and beautiful as she’d been when she left.It took every ounce of willpower he had not to get lost in the startling spring-green eyes that had looked up at him when he’d stepped to the window of her car.
A car that looked worse for wear.
Mustang Sally had once been the envy of every teenage girl and boy in Wilder.Now, it was just an old muscle car with faded paint, chips and dings in the doors, and a back bumper that looked like it had had a run-in with a light pole and lost.Decker wasn’t surprised she still had the car.Or was wearing the University of Texas hoodie she’d worn all through high school.Or had the rainbow scrunchie she’d had ever since he’d known her wrapped around her wrist.
Sweetie hung on to things she loved.
Things she didn’t love she easily let go of.
Like his cousin, Jace.
And Decker.
It galled him to no end that Sweetie’s leaving still upset him.He thought he was over it—he’d worked so hard to get over it.And all it had taken was a flash of red Mustang for that wound to open and start aching all over again.
The ache had grown almost unbearable when she’d cried.He had seen a lot of Sweetie’s emotions over the years.When she was happy, her smile could light up an entire high school gymnasium.When she was excited, her whoops could be heard in three counties.When she was amused, her laughter could ring out louder than the First Baptist Church bell.
The only emotion she didn’t show was sadness.There wasn’t a time that Decker could remember when Sweetie had shed real tears.Not when her horse had gotten spooked in the Fourth of July parade and tossed her off, breaking her arm.Not when her dog, Cricket, had gotten run over and killed.And certainly not when she had broken his cousin’s heart.
Sweetie Holiday didn’t cry.
Until today.
Tears had shimmered on the lower lids of her eyes like heartbreaking diamonds.If one hadn’t escaped, he might have been able to look away.But the sight of that single tear trembling at the corner of her eye had unraveled the badass persona Decker had been hiding behind like a missed stitch in a knitted sweater.
When she’d turned those eyes to him, he’d felt like he had as a kid every time Sweetie Holiday had glanced his way—flushed, breathless, and flooded with hormones.
The abrupt ringing of a cellphone snapped him out of his thoughts.Mrs.Nichols quickly lowered the phone she had shoved in his face and answered it.“Hey, Rita.I’m with the sheriff right now so I’ll have to call you back ...What?...You’re kiddin’?...You say he saw her red Mustang just outside of town?”
Decker mentally groaned.He had hoped he could keep Sweetie’s visit a secret.He should have known better.
“Well, I tell you what,” Mrs.Nichols continued.“If she thinks she can just waltz back into town and let bygones be bygones, she can think again.That little gal didn’t just burn bridges when she left town.She incinerated them into ash.I, for one, have no intention of forgiving and forgetting.I’m sure everyone else will feel the same way.Of course, they need to be warned ...yes, exactly ...we need to get the word out.You call the garden club and I’ll call the book club.Talk to you soon.”She hung up and looked at Decker.“Sorry, Sheriff Carson, but something much more important than Dan Wheeler being a disorderly drunk has come up.Sweetheart Holiday is back.Can you believe that?”
Before Decker was forced to comment, Mrs.Nichols tapped the screen of her phone and turned to head back into her house, telling whoever she was talking to about Sweetie being back.Decker was happy he didn’t have to hear any more about her wilting petunias, but he was not happy that he now had to worry about the citizens of Wilder forming a lynch mob.
Of course, the townsfolk wouldn’t actually lynch Sweetie.But when they were pissed at someone, they could raise a ruckus that would make Decker’s job of keeping the peace much more difficult.
And they were pissed at Sweetie.
She and Decker’s cousin, Jace, had been hometown sweethearts—the kind of beautiful, talented teenagers people loved to live through vicariously.The men of Wilder loved to talk about every pass Jace made in a game and how he was destined to play in the NFL.The women loved to talk about what a great singer Sweetie was and what super Texas babies she and Jace would make.
But then Sweetie had done the unthinkable.
She’d broken up with Jace.And not just any time of year.She had broken up with him right smack dab in the middle of the most sacred time of year there was for Texans.
Football season.
