Falling for You Page 6

  Sassy gave up the pretense of rolling napkins before the door shut. “Well, look who’s here. It’s Handshake Bud—I mean, Deputy Bud.”

  “How do, Miss Sassy?” He shook his head. “I guess I ought to start calling you Mrs. Sassy.”

  “And I reckon I ought to start calling you—”

  “Sassy!” Dottie Jean gave her a warning glare. “Can I speak to you back in the office? It’s about that thing for church.”

  “That thing?” Sassy looked to Leota. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

  “Excuse us, you two.” Leota rose to help Sassy off her stool.

  “Help yourself to some coffee, Bud,” Dottie Jean called. “I’ll be right back to take your lunch order.”

  Sue Ellen watched her friends disappear into the office. “No hurry, Dottie Jean. Bud and I have some work to do first.”

  “What’s wrong with Sassy?” Bud asked. “She looks like she’s limping.”

  “Sunburn.” She waved away his questions with a sweep of her hand. “Don’t ask.”

  Gathering up her purse and notepad, Sue Ellen led the way to a table in the corner farthest from the office. The three amigos were likely leaning against the door trying to listen. No sense in making it any easier for them.

  Bud poured himself a cup of coffee and strolled across the dining room to join her. Sue Ellen’s fickle heart jumped as the uniformed officer settled into the seat across from her.

  “Shall we go over the rules?” Bud pulled a piece of folded paper from his shirt pocket. Her expression must have conveyed her feelings. “Honestly, Sue Ellen, this is for your own good.” He paused to take a sip of coffee before sliding the paper across the table toward her. “It’s only a few items, I promise.”

  Sue Ellen scanned the list, then looked back up at Bud. “Diet, exercise, and plenty of sleep.” She folded the paper. “Piece of cake.” Giggling, she amended her comment. “Sorry. Piece of lettuce.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” He pulled a second piece of paper from his pocket. “Here’s the rest of the program.”

  This time she didn’t accept the paper with quite so much anticipation. The page was divided into sections, each marked with detailed information on the topic. Notable were the sentences highlighted in bold.

  “No more chocolate?” She tried not to look distraught, certain that would only amuse him. “Daily exercise?”

  “Not every day. You get Sundays off, of course.”

  “Of course.” Sue Ellen caught sight of Sassy peering around the office door and glared at her.

  “That’s the basics. I sent the rest to you on a spreadsheet in an email attachment.”

  He looked so proud of himself that it was impossible to say a word about how she actually felt. Rather, she mumbled a brief thanks.

  “So I suggest you take a few days to look over all the information, then we can get started.”

  Sue Ellen almost took him up on his offer of a grace period. Then she thought better of it. The sooner she got started, the sooner the whole crazy experiment would end.

  “What about tomorrow?”

  Bud shook his head. “I’ve already made the schedule out. We start Saturday.”

  “Ah, the schedule.” We’ll see how long you stick to schedules, Bud Briggs.

  “I’ll be there bright and early Saturday morning. Check the email for running times.”

  “Running?”

  “Yes, you know. Faster than walking, slower than racing? I suggest you drive over to Parkdale Mall and get fitted for a proper pair of running shoes. Believe it or not, it’s not how cute they are that matters.” He reached for the menu as Dottie Jean approached. “Two grilled catfish platters with vegetables and salad, oil and vinegar on the side, please.” He paused. “And two waters.”

  Sue Ellen’s eyes narrowed as she expelled a long breath. “Fried catfish platter, with french fries and a salad.” She paused. “Ranch dressing. Oh, and sweet tea. Peach if you have it. And I think I’ll wrap it up with a piece of your pecan pie, Dottie Jean.”

  “Sue Ellen.” The warning in Bud’s voice could not be mistaken. “You sure about that?”

  She pretended to consider his question for a moment. “Bud’s right, Dottie Jean. Let me change that.”

  Dottie Jean hid her grin behind her menu pad. “Go ahead,” she finally said.

  “All right, add ice cream, and don’t forget to heat the pie. I love it when the homemade vanilla drips down the sides.” Sue Ellen offered Bud a broad smile. “It’s not Saturday yet.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It cannot be morning.” Sue Ellen slapped at the ringing sound, certain it was just some fool who got up with the chickens but dialed as if still asleep.

  “Wrong number,” she muttered into her cell.

  And yet the ringing continued.

  “I’ve got to get Tilly to show me how to download a better ring tone. This one sounds just like the alarm clock.”

  Sue Ellen buried the phone under one pillow and her head under the other. That worked for a few seconds.

  Then she realized that, however faint the sound, the phone was still ringing. “Why isn’t my voice mail picking up?”

  She tossed the pillows off and sat bolt upright, then groaned and fell back on the mattress. “The alarm clock.”

  Rolling onto her side, Sue Ellen hit the snooze button. Then the phone rang for real.

  “Hello?” she whispered.

  “Good morning.”

  “Bud,” she managed in a hoarse whisper. “Go away.”

  Throwing the sheet over her head, Sue Ellen waited for the click that signaled the deputy had given up. The silence on the other end lasted only long enough for Sue Ellen to close her eyes.

  “We had a deal. Now get up, put on your running shoes, and meet me in front of the salon.”

  “Fine,” she said as she threw off the sheet, “but I’ll need some coffee first.”

  “After,” he said firmly. “I’ll treat you to a cup at Tilly’s. I’ve penciled in a half hour to go over your plans for me, then another hour to implement them. Will that work?”

  “Pencil this in, Bud. We run to Tilly’s, grab a latte, then I run home and take a nice hot bubble bath.”

  “Look, I know you’re a little cranky this morning. I’m sure you’re used to sleeping in on Saturdays.”

  “Not likely, Deputy. You have no idea how early the seniors over at the nursing home get up. I’m usually out there by nine every other Saturday. This, however, was going to be my sleeping-in Saturday.” She leaned over to lift the blinds a notch. “It’s still dark outside. Are you kidding me?”

  “Stop procrastinating, or you’ll miss out on whatever torture you planned for me.”

  “All right.” Sue Ellen rose and promptly tripped over the pillows. Thankfully she made a soft landing on the goose down.

  “You all right?” Bud asked.

  “No, Bud, I am not all right.” She tossed the pillows back onto the bed. “It’s dark. It’s early. It’s Saturday.”

  “Don’t make me come up there after you, Sue Ellen Caldwell.”

  She hung up the phone, and then ignored it when Bud called back. Five minutes later, she’d brushed her teeth, yanked her hair into a ponytail, and slipped into her new running shoes and matching jogging suit—all in the same shade of pink as her shop sign.

  As an accent, she’d bought a top in a black and white leopard print and a matching thingie to put her house key in. The best surprise of all was the leopard print shoelaces she’d found to complete the ensemble.

  Bud was partly right, she decided as she checked her image in the closet’s full-length mirror. The shoes did fit nicely, but it didn’t hurt that they were cute, too.

  The look on Bud’s face when she let herself out the front door of the shop was worth every penny she spent on the outfit.

  “Before you can run,” Bud said when he’d recovered his senses, “you have to stretch.” He took her through a few stretches, and t
hen pointed her in the direction of Carp Court. “I figured we’d just run until we get tired and see how far we get.”

  “Fine by me, Deputy Briggs. I just hope you can keep up.”

  “It’s chilly. Don’t you think you ought to get some gloves?”

  “Couldn’t find any that matched.” She shot out like an Olympic runner, and then realized when Bud caught up that she probably ought to slow down.

  “Couldn’t find any that matched?” Bud shook his head. “Lord, I don’t think I’ve ever dared to pray this, but could You give me patience? And fast?”

  Pride kept Sue Ellen moving at the brisk pace until they reached a red light. Despite the fact there wasn’t a single soul coming in either direction, Bud pushed the button and waited until the Walk sign turned green.

  Tinges of orange faded to pink as the morning stole away the night. Sue Ellen watched the sun peer over the Catfish House and smiled. In all her years, she’d never taken notice of a sunrise until today.

  “Sue Ellen, check your pace,” Bud said. “Can you talk while running at this speed?”

  “I don’t know. Ask me something and see if I can answer.”

  She knew she’d have a hard time saying anything right now, but the combination of a rocket pace and a shortened night of sleep would surely have that effect on anyone.

  “Tell me why you’re back.”

  His sideways glance told her the statement held more meaning than just a request for geographical information. Information she wasn’t quite ready to give.

  “Tell me why you’re so all-fired excited about leaving Port Neches.” She hurdled over a manhole, and then veered toward the sidewalk that ran beside Tilly’s. “Then maybe I’ll tell you why I came back. That’s what you really want to know, isn’t it?”

  Bud stopped short, and it took Sue Ellen a minute to notice. She doubled back to join him on the sidewalk. “What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. “You took me by surprise with that question,” he said. “How about I buy you that cup of coffee you wanted, and we can talk about the answer?”

  A man wanting to talk? Now that had to be a first. Sue Ellen gladly let him steer her into the wacky interior of the Café Latte.

  “Well, good morning, you two. You’re the first customers of the day.” Tilly turned her attention to Sue Ellen. “You’re up early. What happened? Lose a bet?”

  While Sassy’s daughter giggled, Sue Ellen scanned the menu. “Better than that, Tilly.” She leaned toward the coffee shop owner. “I’ve been given a rare opportunity to actually change a man.”

  “Oh, really?” Tilly’s many earrings glittered in the morning sunshine. “How so?”

  “Actually, it’s me who has the rare opportunity.” He gestured toward Sue Ellen. “She would like a cup of coffee, black. Give me the same.”

  Tilly looked at Sue Ellen. “No White Chocolate Cinna-mocha with sprinkles?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  She looked doubtful. “All right, Sue Ellen, but please don’t let it get out that you’re giving up the sugar. It’d be bad for business.” Tilly snapped her fingers. “Say, speaking of business, did you hear about the new bakery and sushi bar that’s going in?”

  “Yes, I believe Fanny mentioned something about it in the shop awhile back.”

  Setting two steaming fish-themed mugs on the counter, Tilly smiled. “Well, I bet she doesn’t know this. You know my Fred, right?” When Sue Ellen nodded, Tilly continued, “It seems as though Faeoni Ledbetter, the new owner, decided she’d pack up and move back to Bogalusa. Something about there being a shortage of eligible men. Anyway, guess who’s going to be the new manager?”

  Sue Ellen took a wild guess. “Fred?”

  Tilly clapped her hands. “Yes,” she said with a glee that could only be achieved by a morning person. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  She left Tilly with a hug and a brief prayer that not only would Fred succeed in his job at Loaves and Fishes, but the Lord would lead him into a youth ministry position at the church. A silent but obvious prayer was that the fellow would also have the good sense to realize the prize he had in Tilly and marry her before she changed her mind.

  Sue Ellen took her sweaty self over to the table where Bud waited. “So?” he reminded her when she’d settled in.

  She sighed as she wrapped her fingers around the mug. “The truth is, I realized one day that while I was out looking for wings, what I really needed was roots.”

  Bud’s confused look told Sue Ellen he didn’t understand. “Translation: I missed home and realized everything I was looking for is right here.” She let the statement hang between them for a moment. “Your turn, Deputy. Why is it you’re set on leaving? What’s the FBI got that’s so much better than what’s right here in Port Neches?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Bud gave her an answer outlining the fine history of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, then went on to add how his military training made him a perfect candidate for the job. It was a lame response, and she knew it, but he seemed to believe every word he said.

  Later, when he walked her home, he avoided the topic, and she let him. Rather, they discussed the warming trend that had turned frigid into only moderately chilly almost overnight, the cost of pole beans at the farmers’ market, and which John Wayne movie was really the best.

  By the time they stopped in front of the Rhonda-Vous, he’d just about run out of words, or so it seemed. She fumbled with the silly key holder until Bud took pity on her. “Stick your foot up here.”

  She obliged, balancing on his shoulder as she raised her ankle within his reach. In no time, he had the contraption open and had placed the key in her hand.

  Was it her imagination, or had he let his fingers linger a bit longer than necessary when he placed the key in her palm? Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  “See you at three,” he said, and of course he was back promptly at the appointed time.

  Sue Ellen slipped into the passenger seat of the squad car and handed him a map before tossing an oversized garbage bag and a smaller grocery-sized bag into the back.

  “Any questions?”

  “Nope,” he said as he studied the map. “Hey, that’s the high school football field.”

  “Sure is,” she said. “Nice breeze today?”

  “Um, I suppose.”

  Before long, they were standing in the end zone of Indian Staduim with a pair of red, white, and blue striped kites. “Do you remember how to fly a kite, Bud?”

  He looked doubtful but soon followed her lead. While hers soared, however, his sank.

  “Here, let me get yours flying. Take mine.” She thrust the string in his hand, then took his kite and began to run. Soon she had Bud’s kite floating at the same altitude as hers.

  A swift breeze tangled their strings, causing both kites to plummet. In the process, Sue Ellen got caught in the twine. She reached for Bud to stay upright, and they both fell.

  Then the strangest thing happened.

  Bud Briggs laughed. Not a polite chuckle or a guarded smile. He laughed out loud—a belly laugh that was contagious.

  She heard that laugh again two days later when they played miniature golf. The next Saturday, when the alarm went off, Sue Ellen skipped the snooze button. A full week of jogging had done something to her. She actually had begun to like the dreaded activity. Not that she’d admit it to Bud, of course.

  The following Saturday, Bud let her sleep until nearly seven before his wake-up call came.

  By the end of the month, they’d settled into a routine. Running every morning but Sunday followed by coffee at the Café Latte. Three evenings a week, they piled into Bud’s squad car and headed out to do such varied things as lying on their backs watching a meteor shower and bowling at the lanes in Nederland. The fourth evening was always reserved for playing board games.

  Today, however, their month together would come to an end. Bud’s call came a full hour before their customary time. It was still dark
when Sue Ellen met him at the curb in her favorite pink jogging suit and began to warm up.

  “How about we skip our run today?”

  Sue Ellen did a double take, then walked over to feel his forehead. “Are you sick or something?”

  Bud captured her wrist and lifted her fingers, almost but not quite brushing them to his lips. “Our chariot awaits.” He gestured to the vintage muscle car across the street.

  “Is that your car from high school?” She wandered over to touch the black paint, noting how the color shone under the streetlamp. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve been working on restoring it.” He nodded as he helped her into the passenger seat. “One of those things I’d been putting off until I met you. Well, until you and I struck this deal, that is.”

  A moment later, they were roaring past the Catfish House, then away from town with Elvis’s greatest hits playing on the oversized speakers. The sun was just rising and Elvis was finishing the Hawaiian love song with the funny words in the chorus when they reached a familiar spot.

  “Bud, this is where we used to dig for worms.”

  “Sure is.” He trotted around to help Sue Ellen out of the car, and then reached into the trunk to retrieve a hamper and an oversized lantern. “Follow me.”

  “What, no jogging today?” she asked as she trotted behind him.

  “Did you want to?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Because we can skip breakfast and run if you’d like.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  He stopped at the water’s edge. “We had a lot of fun here, didn’t we, Sue Ellen?”

  “Yes,” she said softly as she came to stand beside him, “we sure did.”

  A fish popped up in the moonlight, then hit the water with a splash, breaking the spell. Bud headed for the end of the pier, where he set the basket down and pulled out what looked like a tablecloth from the Catfish House.

  Bud patted the place beside him, and Sue Ellen obliged. “I have a confession to make.”

  “You didn’t cook breakfast?” Sue Ellen nudged Bud with her elbow. “I’m not surprised.”