The Marley Brothers Band was loud, but not so loud their
music covered the sickening sound of squealing tires,
spitting gravel and—here was the bad
part—crunching metal.
Carolina Sweetwater whirled around and gasped. The left rear
fender of her brand-new PT Cruiser was crushed beneath the
front end of a giant, jet-black Hummer.
That wasn't all.
"Briana, are you all right?" she hollered, and
hurried toward the two vehicles, mindless of her three-inch
spike heels and the yards of taffeta swirling around her ankles.
The Hummer lurched, hissed and then backed slowly away from
her car. She reached the Cruiser's driver's-side door at the
same moment her niece stepped out.
"Aunt Carolina, I'm so sorry."
"It's all right." Weak with relief, she hugged the
shaking teenager and glanced over her shoulder. The
occupants of the Hummer were also climbing out and, like her
niece, appeared to be unharmed.
"I looked both ways, but I swear I didn't see them."
"What matters most is no one was hurt." Now that
Carolina had a chance to catch her breath and assess the
situation, she realized the only serious casualty of the
minor parking lot collision was her car. The SUV had
suffered nothing more than a small scratch or two.
"Are you okay, young lady?" The driver of the SUV,
Major Linc Harrison of the U.S. Army, and his wife, whose
name momentarily escaped Carolina, approached. He wore a
scowl. Her expression was considerably kinder.
"I'm fine," Briana sniffed.
"How about you?" Carolina asked. "Are either of
you injured?"
"In that?" The major's wife rolled her eyes at the
Hummer. "Hardly."
The major took out his cell phone and punched in a number.
"I'm calling nine-one-one."
"Is that necessary?" Carolina tried not to let his
precision-cut steel-gray hair and crisp dress uniform, the
left side of which was completely covered with medals and
ribbons and little colored bars, intimidate her. "Can't
we just exchange insurance information and phone numbers? My
niece and I would really like to get back to the wedding."
His reply was to lift the phone to his ear and glower at her.
"Dad's going to be really mad, isn't he?"
"He won't be happy." Carolina put an arm around her
niece and drew her several feet away to the edge of the
parking lot. "This is your second accident since you
started driving."
Technically, Briana wasn't Carolina's niece. Her father and
Carolina were cousins, which made her and Briana third
cousins or cousins once removed or…Calling each other
aunt and niece was just a whole lot simpler.
"I'm dead," Briana whimpered.
"You're not dead. Grounded for sure. And you can forget
about driving for a while. Like until college."
The teenager burst into fresh tears.
"Come on. I was joking," Carolina said, rubbing
Briana's back. "Don't worry. I'll handle your dad. This
is partly my fault anyway. I'm the one who let you drive my
car." The beautiful, shiny, cobalt-blue convertible
she'd bought last month to celebrate her thirty-third birthday.
"Because I asked you if I could."
"And I said yes. Hence, shared responsibility."
In hindsight, Carolina should have driven the five minutes
to her cabin and gotten those spare camera batteries
herself. Instead, she'd caved when Briana had pleaded with
her to run the errand.
The Marley Brothers Band finished their number. After a
round of applause, they turned the microphone over to
Carolina's older sister Vi. Like the music, every word Vi
spoke carried clearly from the lawn in front of the dining
hall, over the roof of the main lodge and across the parking
lot to where Carolina, her niece, the major and his wife
stood. Thanks to the rolling hills, sprawling oaks and
towering pines surrounding the main buildings, acoustics at
Bear Creek Ranch were great.
"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and family," Vi
announced, "please clear the dance floor for the bride
and her father."
Carolina cringed. She was going to miss the entire
dance—her sister Corrine's glowing face, her father's
beaming smile and the besotted expression the groom would be
wearing when he cut in to sweep his new wife away from his
father-in-law.
Damn! Her throat closed and, for the hundredth time that
week, she willed herself to keep it together.
Something about her little sister's wedding had her walking
an emotional tightrope. If she didn't know better, she'd
think she was envious. Not because of Corrine's new husband,
but because of her obvious bliss at being married.
Now, wasn't that a surprise? Who would have guessed
avoid-commitment-at-all-costs Carolina Sweetwater harbored a
secret longing to find that one right guy she could spend
the rest of her life with?
What had triggered the recent change in her thinking? The
wedding? Her birthday? Her bid for better, meatier
assignments at work being shot down? The five-year
anniversary of her broken engagement? Definitely the last
one. For too long she'd mourned a man who wasn't worth it.
Carolina needed to get serious if she wanted the kind of
contentment two of her sisters had found. A contentment that
included a wonderful man, a satisfying career and one day
maybe children.
Problem was, the selection of available bachelors between
her family's guest resort in the Matazal Mountains of
northern Arizona and the nearby small town of Payson was
pretty slim. Carolina had already dated most of them in an
attempt to convince herself her ex-fiancé hadn't
permanently broken her heart.
"We're really screwed, aren't we?"
Carolina didn't reprimand her niece. In certain
circumstances, the term was appropriate, and this definitely
counted as one of them. "We'll be fine. I have ample
insurance."
"I think the major's mean," Briana said.
"Not so much mean as by the book."
Bear Creek Ranch had never hosted a U.S. Army major before.
He was her sister Corrine's former commanding officer and
had traveled all the way from Fort Bragg in North Carolina
to attend the wedding.
"His wife seems nice," Carolina observed.
As if sensing they were being talked about, the couple
strode over. "How much longer do you think this will
take?" the major groused, checking his watch. A Rolex.
"It's almost six, and we should have been on the road by
now."
"Hard to say." Carolina was proud of her
well-modulated voice. She had her part-time job as morning
traffic director at KPKD to thank for that. "The ranch
is outside Payson's town limits. Which means we have to wait
for the county sheriff or one of his deputies. A
nonemergency like this could take hours."
The major grunted.
"How about we let my niece go back to the wedding.
There's no reason she has to miss out on everything."
He vetoed Carolina's suggestion with an ogre-ish "No.
Your niece is in serious trouble, Ms. Sweetwater."
Well, Briana came by it honestly.
Carolina's own free spirit had landed her in hot water on a
regular basis since preschool, when she dumped an entire
container of fish food into the classroom aquarium and then
lied about it. Sometime in grade school she stopped lying,
but not landing in hot water. Take today, for example. If
there was any way her cousin Jake could manage it, he'd
ground her along with his daughter.
At the distant rumble of an approaching vehicle, everyone
turned in unison. A marked patrol car traveled the long dirt
road leading into the ranch and then swung into the parking
lot. Carolina craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the
driver. Old Sheriff Herberger had a soft spot when it came
to her family, who donated regularly to the department's
various outreach programs.
Luck, unfortunately, wasn't on her side. It was the much
younger, not so kindly Deputy Sheriff Neil Lovitt who
stepped from the parked car.
"My, my," the major's wife said, an appreciative
hitch in her voice.
Carolina silently seconded the sentiment.
The major's uniform might have sharper pleats and more
medals pinned to it, but Deputy Sheriff Lovitt did his own
khaki shirt and slacks pretty darn proud. Adjusting his
straw cowboy hat and sunglasses, he made his way toward
them, his gait casual yet confident, a small notebook in his
hand.
"Good afternoon, folks," he said upon reaching them.
Almost two years in this neck of the woods hadn't softened
his New York accent one iota.
"Hi." Carolina was the only one who smiled.
Why she bothered, she had no clue. He'd never responded to
any of her attempts at friendliness. That included the
double date they'd once gone on—ironically, not with
each other. Carolina's date worked with Deputy Sheriff
Lovitt, which was how they'd wound up going to the community
fair together. She'd been far more interested in the deputy
than…Mark, was it? Or Alfonso. She wasn't sure. Her
attention had been riveted on the department's newest addition.
He hadn't reciprocated her interest, and as far as she could
tell, nothing had changed in the time since that disastrous
double date.
His loss, Carolina decided.
It was a shame, though. Of all the available prospects in
the area, he was the most attractive.
"So, what happened here?" he inquired, his gaze
encompassing everyone present.
Briana and the major launched into simultaneous
explanations, raising their voices to be heard over each other.
"Enough." Deputy Sheriff Lovitt held up a hand.
"You first." He pointed at Briana and put pen to
paper, readying to take notes.
The major harrumphed his displeasure.
"I was backing out and…and he…"
Briana's nerve seemed to desert her.
"Go on," the deputy sheriff said, his tone encouraging.
"I…he…" She fidgeted.
The major began tapping a very polished boot, staring hard
at the cluster of trees on the other side of the parking lot.
"I was being real careful, I swear." Once she
started, she couldn't stop. "I checked the rearview
mirror and the side mirrors. I didn't even have my foot on
the gas pedal. Next thing I knew, this gigantic SUV came
from out of nowhere."
"You hit me, young lady," the major boomed.
"That's not true. It was the other way around."
"I was heading toward the exit and you backed out right
in front of me." His loud bark caused Briana to wilt.
Carolina fought the urge to step in front of her niece and
shield her.
"I had the right-of-way, Officer." The major's
already broad chest seemed to swell.
"Deputy."
"Of course," he grumbled. "Excuse me."
"May I see both of your licenses, registrations and
proof of insurance, please?"
Carolina went to her car, mourning the damage once again as
she passed the bumper. Fetching the necessary paperwork from
the glove compartment, she returned to the group, her
three-inch heels catching in the uneven asphalt.
Neil removed his sunglasses, dropped them in his shirt
pocket and monitored her every move with unconcealed interest.
When had she started thinking of Deputy Sheriff Lovitt by
his first name?
Since he couldn't take his to-die-for chocolate-brown eyes
off her.
Carolina experienced a small thrill of awareness when she
handed him the paper.
"The Chrysler's yours, Ms. Sweetwater? " He said her
name without looking down at the registration, which
indicated he remembered her from their double date.
She didn't know whether to be flattered or worried.
"Yes."
"Brand-new, I see."
"Fresh off the lot."
"I hope you have a low deductible on your insurance."
"Not low enough." She was already kicking herself
for trying to save a few dollars.
Neil skimmed through the major's documents before turning to
Briana. "Where's your license?"
"I…ah…"
Carolina had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Miss?" Neil's patience was obviously running low.
"It's a wedding." Briana's shoulders folded in on
themselves. "I didn't bring my purse with me."
"Does she need her license?" Carolina jumped to
Briana's defense, if only to wipe the satisfied grin off the
major's face. "This is private property."
The look Neil shot her could have seared every petal off the
wildflowers growing by the road.
Carolina responded by standing taller, which brought his
mouth into her direct line of vision. She couldn't help
staring at it. After a moment, the corners of his lips,
which were really quite nice, started to turn up. Just a
little. Hardly noticeable.
Gotcha.
The thought had hardly formed in her head when Jake came
charging down the fieldstone walkway toward them. He was
accompanied by her uncle and Will, her sister Vi's husband.
"Oh, goodie, here comes the cavalry," she mumbled
under her breath, and waited for all hell to break loose.
Carolina Sweetwater turned away to face her family. Neil
avoided staring at her backside, which was every bit as
attractive as her front, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed
when she went to her car to fetch her registration. Her
lime-green bridesmaid dress was—well, words couldn't
describe it. But Carolina carried the dress off with the
poise of a supermodel.
A different time, different circumstances…
"What's going on here?" Jake Tucker, manager of Bear
Creek Ranch resort, commanded everyone's attention.
"Briana, are you all right?"
"Everyone's fine." Carolina glided to the center of
the men, a tropical flower surrounded by penguin suits.
Several stray tendrils had escaped the rhinestone clasp
holding her hair in place. They lay on her bare neck, the
dark brunette color standing out against her lightly tanned
skin.
Neil forced his gaze down to his citation book.
"There was a slight fender bender," she said, her
voice calm.
He listened to that same voice every morning on KPKD.
"You wrecked your new car?" Jake's voice was
anything but calm.
"No." Briana visibly braced herself. "I did."
"Your daughter ran into me." The major stepped forward.
Jake closed his eyes and blew out a long breath.
"Please don't be mad."
He shot his daughter a foreboding look. "At the moment,
it's hard not to be."
Neil almost felt sorry for her. Almost. He could see his own
five-year-old daughter Zoey as a teenager, trembling from
head to toe, waiting for the ax to fall. Unfortunately,
Briana had been driving without a license and, from what he
could determine, had caused the accident. And while it had
occurred on private property, the ranch parking lot was
accessible to the public.
The choice of whether or not to issue her a citation was Neil's.
Jake listened to an account of the accident and, despite his
obvious anger, did an admirable job of maintaining his cool
with both his daughter and Carolina. Not that Neil figured
she took any guff from her cousin. Or anyone else, for that
matter.
"Can my wife and I leave now?" the major asked when
Neil was finished taking statements and collecting contact
information.
"You folks drive careful," he warned them.
"Traffic can be congested this time of day."
"Thank you again for coming to the wedding." Jake
shook the major's hand. "I know Corrine really
appreciates it."
"I wish we could have stayed longer," the major's
wife gushed. "You have a beautiful place."
Neil agreed. The spectacular scenery and quiet country
living were the main reasons he'd picked the Payson area in
which to settle down. Other than the occasional drunken
brawl and dispute between neighbors, not much happened here
in the way of crime. Quite a change from Manhattan's Upper
West Side, where he'd spent ten years on the force—the
last one in a daze, struggling to cope in the wake of his
wife's death.
Four years had dulled the pain but not the guilt.
He shouldn't have listened to her, shouldn't have done his
duty. Maybe then, she'd still be alive.
Neil retrieved his sunglasses from his breast pocket and put
them back on.