Page 1 of Bred By The Deputy
Chapter One
Dole
All it should take is one. Justone kissto know if they’re the one.
I might not have done a lot of kissing in my time, but there is a reason for that. I believe in a lifetime kind of love. Watching my parents, who were high school sweethearts, love one another proved that sort of thing exists. They still moon at one another like teenagers, and I won’t settle for anything less than that for myself.
Finding love in a small town like Driftwood is a lot harder than one might expect. Growing up in the same town, with the same people, means I know just about everyone in town. We get some tourists or some new people now and again, but for the most part, the dating pool is about twenty women, all of whom I know well enough kissing them feels wrong.
Being a deputy sheriff also means people trust me. They expect me to be a good guy, to do the right thing. This means if I take a lady out even if no sparks fly, I have to be gentle about getting out of a second date. Somehow, I still end up the bad guy, though never have I paid a higher price than I am paying now.
“Mrs. Murphy called again,” Mackenzie glares at me as she passes over a post-it full of notes about the call. “Be nicer to her than you are most the ladies, Dole.”
Ouch. Dating a woman I work with was a bad idea. I don’t regret it exactly, we had a good time at first. Mackenzie is a beautiful girl, funny, and smart, any guy would be lucky to be with her. Just not this guy. When it came tothat moment, the one I make all my romantic decisions on, I was let down. When I kissed her goodnight on our third date, I felt…nothing.
No sparks, no hum in my chest, nothing below the waist, just nothing at all. It felt almost the way it felt to kiss my sister Bria. I tried to let her down easy, I said I thought our dating and working together was a bad idea. That was not a good enough reason it would seem, because Mackenzie has been downright hateful towards me since our last date.
“I am nice to everyone the same,” I tell her, taking the note swiftly. “I think we all ought to be that way, don’t you?”
Tipping my hat at her, I grab my coffee and get the hell out of the station. It’s been weeks since we last went out, but her attitude has not changed. We were good friends before we tried to date so I figured that wouldn’t change. I guess I figured it wrong. I am just hoping this whole thing blows over soon because it is frigid in the station with her now.
“Dole,” Watt’s deep voice booms as I step outside. Turning to see the new sheriff heading towards me, I smile and nod my head. “Morning. How’s things going in there today?” He tilts his head towards the station, and I wince.
“Still the same. Should I take her out again?” I wonder as I glance back inside to see Mackenzie pouting back at me.
“No, you shouldnot. You tried it, you two weren’t meant to be. The second landing is opening up on the mountain soon. There will be plenty of growly lumberjacks for her to swoon over. Where are you headed?”
“Yeah, I hope so. Can’t help it if the magic was not there. I am going over to Mrs. Murphy’s. That new coffee shop gives her something new to complain about every day it seems.”
Watt shakes his head with a laugh. His old lady is best friends with the owner of that coffee shop, so he lets me handle these complaints. The truth is the coffee shop is a great addition to Driftwood. We’ve seen several new places open up lately and I for one and glad for it. Mrs. Murphy, who I swear was here when the town was born, thinks otherwise.
“Tell Quinn and Willa you get a free latte for your troubles.”
Chuckling, I tell him I’ll do that, and I head for my cruiser. Driftwood is a small town with less than two thousand residents. The mountains that make up most of the town bring lumberjacks to town during the felling season. Those boys can be a bit of a handful if they drink too much so they keep us busy. As I pass by the one bar in town, I slow a little when I see the line of bikes out front.
Our other main source of trouble is the motorcycle club that calls Driftwood their home. Most of the guys are former military, some rough and rugged guys. They don’t cause too much ruckus, but if they tangle with the residents who grew up here or even the rowdy lumberjacks, we get called in to handle it.
Nodding my head at Hawk, one of the newer residents of Driftwood and a member of the Driftwood Disciples, I sigh. I don’t mind them being here. They give back to the town and if you ask me, they make it a little safer. Who wants to tussle with a band of former elite marines? Not me, and not most of the trouble that comes through Driftwood. They help us police the town even if we do things very differently.
Turning up the radio, I head towards Mrs. Murphy’s place just beyond Main Street. All she wants is someone to talk to. Her husband passed on five years ago, about when her regular calls to the station began. At the time, our sheriff had little patience for it, so I often took the calls. She means no harm, so I let her complain for a bit before I promise to do something to fix whatever upset her this time.
“Evening Mrs. Murphy,” I call as I close my cruiser door, seeing her rocking on her front porch, knitting as usual. “What seems to be the trouble this evening, darling?”
“Oh, Dole, they should not have sent you here. I just let Mackenzie know there’s a speed demon in town. Racing up and down the streets.”
Shaking my head, I join her, sitting in the rocking chair beside her. I will sit and talk with her as long as she needs. Her husband doted on her until he passed, so she misses the attention. Her jerkoff kids rarely come to visit and even her grandkids hardly come by to see her. I hate to think of my mother rocking on the porch, without dad, without me.
“Was it one of the Disciples on their bike again?”
“No, no, it was a fancier can than I ever seen before. Maybe one of those rich boys from Harmony Hollow.”
Chuckling with her, I nod. We talk about the weather, the landing where the lumberjacks’ fell trees, and even about her garden. It kills about an hour of my twelve-hour shift and when I climb back in my cruiser, Mrs. Murphy is a little less lonely. Waving at her, I promise to find this speeder as I pull from the curb to start my usual patrol.
The small cruiser fills with the twangs of Laney Wilson singing about heartache. I think back to earlier with Mackenzie. I wish I had felt that spark with her. We flirted for months before I asked her out. I knew if it went bad, things at the station would become tense. I consider asking her out again to see if I am being too much of a romantic about it all.
“Holy shit,” I mutter when I see the blaze of bright pink fly past me. Well, hell. Mrs. Murphy wasn’t wrong. That is one flashy ass car.
Hitting my lights and siren, I try to catch up to the pink Porsche as it speeds through the narrow streets. It slows once the driver takes notice of the wailing siren and flashing lights behind them. Part of me wants them to keep running and give me a little excitement for the day. They pull off the road at the edge of town, putting an end to the short-lived chase.
