The Deputy's Perfect Match
Lisa Carter
His Librarian SweetheartStill nursing old heartache, deputy sheriff Charlie Pruitt vowed he’d never get close to another woman again. But that’s easier said than done when librarian Evy Shaw arrives in his small coastal Virginia town with a secret—one Charlie’s determined to uncover. When Charlie joins Evy’s all-female book club, he gets more than he anticipated when the romantic reads stoke a real attraction to Evy. Falling for the pretty librarian wasn’t part of the plan, but when the truth behind Evy’s suspicious behavior comes to light, will love be enough to bind them together?
His Librarian Sweetheart
Still nursing old heartache, deputy sheriff Charlie Pruitt vowed he’d never get close to another woman again. But that’s easier said than done when librarian Evy Shaw arrives in his small coastal Virginia town with a secret—one Charlie’s determined to uncover. When Charlie joins Evy’s all-female book club, he gets more than he anticipated when the romantic reads stoke a real attraction to Evy. Falling for the pretty librarian wasn’t part of the plan, but when the truth behind Evy’s suspicious behavior comes to light, will love be enough to bind them together?
“I’ll pick you up Saturday. It’s a date.”
“Okay.” She tucked a loosened strand of blond hair behind her ear.
He followed the motion of her hand, his heart beating rapidly. Should he trust his first impressions of Evy Shaw? Sweet, smart, very pretty. Was his initial instinct about her correct?
“You don’t have to wait for me, Charlie.”
“Of course I do. I’ll walk you to your car.”
She slung the purse strap over her shoulder. “Another Southern-gentleman thing?”
He followed Evy to the front door. “So let me be one, okay? And for the record, I want to walk you to your car.”
Evy worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she set the alarm. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. Before he did something stupid.
Suppose he was wrong about Evy? Could she be hiding behind a mask, the image she wanted him to see? And if so, why?
Who was the real Evy Shaw? Was seeing believing in her case?
Maybe… Maybe not. Only time would tell.
LISA CARTER and her family make their home in North Carolina. In addition to her Love Inspired novels, she writes romantic suspense for Abingdon Press. When she isn’t writing, Lisa enjoys traveling to romantic locales, teaching writing workshops and researching her next exotic adventure. She has strong opinions on barbecue and ACC basketball. She loves to hear from readers. Connect with Lisa at lisacarterauthor.com (http://www.lisacarterauthor.com).
Dear Reader (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b),
As soon as I turned in Coast Guard Sweetheart to my wonderful editor, Melissa Endlich, she said, “You’ve got to bring Sawyer and his sister together again.” And so, two books later, I have.
Readers often ask whom I model characters upon. My characters aren’t based on just one person, but an amalgamation of several people from whom I borrow certain physical or emotional characteristics to create a wholly fictional “person.” There is also some truth to the idea that there is a little part of the author in each character, as well.
Like Evy, I’ve loved books since before I could read. One of my great childhood memories is finally getting my own library card when I was five years old. I still remember the first book I checked out—Thumbelina. The library has always been a haven for me. I get a happy feeling wandering among the stacks.
When I was in the sixth grade, I had a friend named Tina. She and her brother were living with their grandmother after the death of their parents. When Tina’s grandmother died, she and her brother were sent to separate foster homes. I will never forget the sadness and fear on Tina’s face their last day together at our school. I never saw or heard from Tina again. I’ve always prayed that she and her brother found each other one day. And so was born Evy and Sawyer’s story.
The theme of this book is wounded hearts. Is there a balm that can soothe hurting souls? There is—and His name is Jesus. It is the love of God and the blood of Christ that makes the wounded whole.
I hope you have enjoyed taking this journey with me, Charlie and Evy. I would also love to hear from you. You may email me at lisa@lisacarterauthor.com or visit www.lisacarterauthor.com (http://www.lisacarterauthor.com).
Wishing you fair winds and following seas,
Lisa Carter
The Deputy’s Perfect Match
Lisa Carter
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then has the health of the daughter of my people not been restored?
—Jeremiah 8:22
Dedicated to Billy & Kathy Davis—thanks for your friendship over the years.
This book is also dedicated to those separated from people they love by circumstances outside their control. May you truly find the balm of Gilead and may the years the locusts have eaten be restored a hundredfold in your lifeas if those hard years had never been.
Acknowledgments (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b)
Thanks to Janet Morley and the
library specialists—Brandy Hamilton,
Daphne McLawhorn, Trish Preston—
at the East Regional Library for taking me
through “a day in the life of a librarian.”
Thanks to Sonny, who strolled into the library
that morning and allowed me to “practice” issuing
him a pretend library card. It was so much fun
pretending to walk in Evy’s shoes—ahem,
high heels. Any errors are, of course, my own.
I’ve taken a few literary liberties with the
sheriff’s department for the sake of the story line.
I hold all of you at the highest regard
for the challenging yet essential work you
perform every day on our behalf.
A big thank-you to the dedicated men and women
of the Accomack County Sheriff’s Department,
and to deputies everywhere for their
commitment to serve and protect.
Contents
Cover (#u4af16959-8eef-5ec9-a0bc-c825e7a4ac45)
Back Cover Text (#uc725a5d1-8f57-505d-90bd-1ddadb4b0c20)
Introduction (#u5e9381b5-a2ff-5199-80b0-1fb453163c80)
About the Author (#uc1385945-d068-5eaf-9e47-dffd838a75da)
Dear Reader (#u33b9c48a-2724-5783-b830-14e2267b9810)
Title Page (#u7b98ce84-1cec-5bd7-8879-4405f95f9f96)
Bible Verse (#u213cbcf2-b03b-5e12-9e0d-4c3bfefff155)
Dedication (#u0a8d5fad-6220-52ec-8ecb-5b23cb505e58)
Acknowledgments (#ubbb44f96-7e4e-5e1a-849e-bac69c229e12)
Chapter One (#u21712264-df9e-5784-b168-e09307c6125f)
Chapter Two (#uac37e2e4-cd39-5298-8e59-4df1061adfd6)
Chapter Three (#u372e9708-a16d-56ea-85b4-d2093ccdbb3b)
Chapter Four (#u3c9b0627-38c8-56cc-abd0-04ceb0178d30)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b)
In the corner booth of the Sandpiper Café, Accomack County Deputy Sheriff Charlie Pruitt stared at the three Duer sisters.
“Let me get this straight—you want me to arrest the new Kiptohanock librarian?”
Watercolor artist Amelia Scott fidgeted on the cracked green vinyl upholstery. “Not arrest. Investigate.”
Her sister, Caroline Clark, nodded. “Technically speaking, Miss Shaw hasn’t broken any laws.”
Charlie raised one eyebrow. “Then technically speaking, this sounds like a waste of taxpayer dollars and the department’s manpower.”
Amelia moistened her lips. “We’re asking you, as an old family friend, for a favor.”
His attention cut to the youngest sister, sandwiched between Amelia and Caroline. She’d been uncharacteristically silent during the morning meeting. Everyone in Kiptohanock had always believed he and his childhood sweetheart, Honey Duer, would marry one day.
Everyone, including him. Until a certain Coast Guardsman by the name of Sawyer Kole arrived on the Eastern Shore four years ago. Charlie had been cast aside like yesterday’s fish guts.
Until Sawyer Kole abruptly left the Shore. Then Charlie played the fool by taking up with Honey Duer again. When Kole returned as suddenly as he’d left, once more Charlie had been jettisoned from Honey’s life like so much flotsam.
He grimaced. Charlie was all too aware that in the love department, the town of Kiptohanock considered him a laughingstock.
Charlie grabbed his regulation hat off the seat beside him. “If we’re done here—”
“Something’s not right about that woman.” Honey placed her hands on the sticky linoleum tabletop. “She’s hiding something.”
The fluorescent lighting caught the sparkle in the diamond ring on Honey’s finger. He squared his shoulders. Honey was lost to him forever. She was now Sawyer Kole’s wife and pregnant with their first child.
Past time for Charlie to move on with his life. But so far, he had only his career. And law enforcement didn’t come close to soothing the raw, empty places Honey’s absence left in his life.
Strapped in the stroller beside the booth, Amelia’s nine-month-old son, Patrick, let out a wail.
Amelia fumbled through a diaper bag and handed Patrick a cracker. “We’re living on borrowed time, girls. Nap time awaits.” The baby made smacking noises as he gummed the cracker.
“Why do you think the librarian is hiding something?” Charlie fixed each of the sisters with his most intimidating look. “Has she done or said something to make you feel threatened?”
Caroline’s gaze flitted toward the plate-glass window overlooking the town square. “She hasn’t exactly said anything...”
He crossed his arms over his brown uniform. “What has she done to raise your suspicions?”
Amelia fiddled with packets of sweetener. “She’s always hanging around our family. Trying to insinuate herself. She insisted on helping Daddy grill hot dogs for the Fourth of July cookout. And she wanted to be my nursery helper during Vacation Bible School in June, but not help Miss Pauline’s second-grade class.”
He rolled his tongue in his cheek. “Right. ’Cause such civic and church behaviors are so often warning signs for deeper, deviant issues.”
Caroline glared. “You need to get serious about this, Charlie.”
“You three need to get serious. Ever think maybe you have overactive imaginations?” He blew a breath between his lips. “Or a paranoia complex?”
Amelia shook her head. “I thought the same as you, Charlie. That Honey was imagining things, until I started noticing the librarian’s behavior. She has a way of almost disappearing into the background. Then suddenly you realize she’s been there listening the whole time.”
Charlie fought for patience. “Why am I not surprised this originated with Honey?”
Honey’s eyebrows arched. “Are you implying I’m a drama queen?”
“If the pearls fit...” He shrugged.
Caroline bit back a smile. “Be that as it may, Honey’s right. Once she expressed her concern, I noticed how Miss Shaw is always studying the Duers. Not staring at the Colonnas or the Turners. Just us.”
He frowned. “Like a stalker?”
“She watches us.” Honey folded her hands over her rounded abdomen. “Especially Sawyer.”
“This is about...?” Charlie hardened his heart. “I’m outta here.” He began easing out of the booth.
“Miss Shaw watches all of us,” Honey said. “Sawyer most of all. But not in a romantic way. It’s just strange. And it scares me.” Her brown eyes misted. “Please, Charlie. We were friends once...”
He stilled. Friends...when he’d hoped for so much more. But old loyalty to Honey warred with his better judgment.
“I cannot utilize official resources without legal justification.”
Caroline leaned forward. “But unofficially, could you make inquiries? At least talk to her?”
“You want me to spy on her?” His voice rose. “Seriously?”
Caroline’s mouth thinned. “Just get to know her. Find out what she’s after.”
Amelia lifted her chin. “Honey’s seven months pregnant, Charlie. She doesn’t need this kind of stress in her life.”
Honey’s lips trembled. “Please, Charlie...”
Charlie raked his hand over his head. “An unofficial investigation only. I’ll nose around. See what I learn.”
Amelia and Caroline exchanged relieved looks.
Honey smiled. “Thank you, Charlie.”
“And if I find nothing suspicious...” He motioned in the general direction of the Kiptohanock library. “You’ll let go of this, and leave the poor woman alone.”
“Why sure, Charlie boy.” Amelia winked at Caroline. “We’ll welcome her with open arms to our little fishing hamlet. Give her the same warm red-carpet treatment we give every ’come here.”
“You do that.” He edged out of the booth. “’Cause I’d sure hate to have to lock three Kiptohanock mothers in the county jail.”
Charlie made a show of placing his hat upon his head. “Not that I’m afraid to arrest the three of you Duers. I’m thinking more about the safety of the other inmates.”
Before the ladies could protest, he threw down enough bills to cover the price of coffee and Long John doughnuts. The lingering aromas of ham, fried potatoes and pancakes followed him across the crowded diner.
He yanked open the glass door in a whoosh of air. With a jingle of bells, he exited the café to do his duty. Which promised to be about as much fun as being Tasered.
Charlie shot a swift look at his watch. He’d have to hurry. No telling when the next call would come from Dispatch.
The cawing of seagulls vied with the sounds of water lapping against the town docks. The scent of brine filled his nostrils as he made his way past the gazebo on the square.
On the wide-planked steps of the brick Victorian that housed the library, he pivoted for one final look at his patrol cruiser in the parking lot of the Sandpiper. Out of habit, he surveyed the town.
The narrow Delmarva Peninsula—composed of portions of Delaware, Maryland and Virginia—separated the Chesapeake Bay and mainland from the Atlantic Ocean. The fishing village of Kiptohanock, Virginia lay seaside.
A white clapboard church hugged the Kiptohanock shoreline. Its steeple pierced the blue sky. Recreational and commercial fishing boats bobbed in the harbor.
Charlie’s gaze skimmed past the post office. The outfitter and boat repair shops. In the gentle sea breeze, flags fluttered outside the Coast Guard station. Emanating from the village green like spokes on a wheel, gingerbread-trimmed homes meandered down leaf-canopied lanes.
Home. It was his job to do everything in his power to protect Kiptohanock and the people who resided here. Including assess the threat level of a librarian?
Charlie removed his hat and grunted. Talk about fool’s errands. Swinging the stout oak door open wide, he ventured inside the cool interior. He waited in the high-ceilinged foyer and allowed his eyes to adjust from the bright glare of the midmorning sunshine to the more subdued lighting of the library.
No one manned the librarian’s desk at the base of the curving mahogany staircase. The cushy grouping of chairs also remained empty. From brief forays on behalf of long-ago high school projects, Charlie remembered that upstairs lay the fiction and science rooms.
He wasn’t fond of books. Nor was the library one of his favorite places. These days, once off duty and motionless, he went to sleep.
But he doubted much had changed in the library after old Mrs. Beal retired a few months ago. Nothing in Kiptohanock ever changed much. Which was exactly why he liked it here.
To the right, the oak-paneled room contained the reference section and a bank of desks topped by computer screens. But to the left, the soft murmur of voices drew him forward. Where he discovered chest-high bookshelves surrounding an open area with a large green rug.
A cluster of kids hunched over a book with a fierce dog on the cover. One of the children turned the page. There were giggles. The blonde child in the center of the group glanced up as his shadow fell across them.
The blonde child passed the book to Caroline Clark’s new stepdaughter, “I didn’t hear you come in.” The blonde rose in a fluid motion.
He blinked. She wasn’t a child. Just a very small, blonde adult. This five-foot nothing waif was the person shadowing the Duer family?
At six-foot-three, Charlie towered over the petite blonde. “You’re the new librarian?”
She tilted her head to meet his gaze. Her wheat-colored ponytail danced across her shoulders. “Yes, I am.”
In a glance, she took him in—from his creased khaki uniform trousers to the tie adorning his short-sleeved summer uniform shirt to his dark hair. And finally coming to rest upon the tan hat he carried in his hands.
Behind her black horn-rimmed glasses, her large blue eyes appeared owlish. Uncertainty flickered. “Can I help you, Officer? Is there a problem?”
He stared at her. The cork-soled wedges. The white denim capris. The fluttery candy-pink top.
This wisp of a creature was the Kiptohanock Stalker? He could probably encircle the librarian’s waist with both his hands and have room to spare.
“Is there a book I can help you find?”
Her voice was soft, as befitted a librarian, he supposed. And sort of sweet.
Charlie realized his mouth was agape. He closed it. “I don’t read.”
Guileless as a child, her sky-blue eyes widened. “Oh... I’m so sorry, but we offer a program for that. I’d be glad to help if you’re willing to put in the time.”
Unlike the Tidewater brogue Kiptohanockians spoke, she had one of those accents from anywhere and nowhere. Thanks to television, like most of America.
Then what she’d said registered with Charlie. And what he’d actually said to her first.
“I didn’t mean I don’t know how to read.” He shuffled his regulation shoes on the rug. “I meant that books are not for me.”
Pink tinted her pale features. “Of course you read. You’re a sheriff.”
In his line of work, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. He hadn’t been sure women still did. But the rosy spots of color brought the librarian’s face to life.
She wasn’t wearing makeup. To her credit, maybe she wasn’t a vain woman. She could have done much more with her appearance than she did, matter of fact.
Thank you, Honey Duer Kole, for yet another wild-goose chase. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous. And Honey was certifiable. The little blonde cleared her throat.
He shook himself. Not like him to blank out. Law enforcement officers were apt to end their careers—and their lives—if not always on the alert. Time to beat an apologetic retreat and get back to real work.
“I’m not the sheriff. I’m just a deputy.” Hat in hand, he turned on his heel and headed toward the door. “Thanks anyway, ma’am. Perhaps another time.”
No mystery nor Mata Hari here.
The front door opened, but something made Charlie glance over his shoulder. In time to see the librarian’s face change. As Caroline Duer Clark crossed the threshold.
* * *
When aquatic veterinarian, Caroline Clark, sauntered into the library, Evy Shaw made herself as unobtrusive as possible behind the desk. Which was not a problem for Evy. She was used to fading into the woodwork.
Or in her case, fading into the bookshelves. She often wore her invisibility like a Romulan cloaking device.
She winced. Best to keep that bit of geekiness under wraps. Her passion for all things Star Trek didn’t exactly cause men to line up at her door.
Nine-year-old Izzie Clark bounced up from the reading rug. “Mom, you’ll love the books I got this week for us to read together.”
Caroline’s eyes softened at the sight of her stepdaughter. Evy had arrived in town a few weeks before Caroline returned to her estranged family. Caroline and Weston Clark’s romance first began in the library. And through a series of events involving sea creatures, Caroline, Weston and Izzie found their happily-ever-after with each other in a restored lighthouse.
Evy bit back a sigh. Minus the fairy-tale ending, she and Caroline had far more in common than the oldest Duer sister imagined.
There was a brief flurry of activity as parents started arriving. The children in the oceanside fishing community brought much-needed excitement not only to the library but also to Evy’s life. She loved children. And story hour was the highlight of her week.
“Goodbye, Miss Shaw.” Izzie waved. “See you next week.” The solid oak door shut with a decisive click.
Someone cleared a throat. Evy nearly launched into outer space and grabbed hold of the counter. Who—
A pair of piercing hazel eyes studied her. The dark-haired, broad-shouldered young deputy. She’d forgotten him while dealing with the Duer sister. This unaccustomed subterfuge was playing havoc with her nerves.
She put a shaky hand to her throat. With his height and build, the deputy was a former high school or college football player. Probably both. He’d be intimidating to someone on the wrong side of the law.
Or someone with something to hide. Like her. On a quest to find her long-lost brother.
When he’d placed the Smokey Bear hat on his head earlier, he’d been on his way out the door. Until Caroline Clark arrived. The hat—Evy craned her neck—added another five inches to his already imposing stature.
“Can I help you, Deputy?”
He removed the hat. The muscles underneath his fitted uniform shirt flexed. Her attention skittered. Did he wear a Kevlar vest? How dangerous was the life of a deputy sheriff in peaceful Kiptohanock?
Mind your own business, Evy.
The deputy positioned the hat next to a stack of books on her desk. “I need a library card.”
“I thought you didn’t...”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I mean, you don’t seem the type to...”
He folded his arms across his chest. Which, for her, was eye level. His gold badge gleamed in the light of the green banker’s lamp atop her desk. Deputy Sheriff, Accomack County, it read.
“Is getting a library card going to be a problem, Miss... Miss...?”
“Shaw. Evangeline Shaw.” Was it suddenly hot in here or just her? “Getting a card will not be a problem, Deputy.”
“It’s Deputy Pruitt.” Hand extended, he reached across the counter. “Charles Everett Pruitt the Third.”
Her eyes flitted to his hand.
The deputy’s gaze caught hers and held steady. “I find it amazing that in as small a place as Kiptohanock, our paths haven’t crossed until now.”
She took his hand. His hand engulfed hers. Her heart stutter-stepped at the touch of his strong, warm fingers against her skin.
“Pleased to meet you,” she whispered.
Why was she whispering? Goose bumps tingled up and down her arm.
His lantern jaw tightened. Frowning, he extracted his hand from hers.
She angled toward the monitor and hit a button on the keyboard. “There are a few questions for you to answer on the application.”
“Fire away.” He crossed his arms again, tucking his hands out of sight beneath impressive biceps. “I meant that in a figurative sense, mind you.” His lips twitched.
She’d always liked men with a sense of—
Evy jerked her eyes to the screen. “Name? Oh.” She swallowed. “You told me already.”
She concentrated on typing the information. “Pruitt... Charles—”
“Friends call me Charlie.”
She stopped midkeystroke. Was that an invitation to be his friend, or was the deputy just being chatty? He didn’t strike Evy as the chatty sort.
“Address?” She was whispering again...
He rattled off an address belonging to one of the Victorian homes on a side street close to the town square.
The deputy unfolded his arms and planted his elbows on the wooden counter. “And how about you?”
Evy’s mouth went dry. The corded muscles of his forearms gave her pause.
He leaned toward Evy. “Where do you live, Miss Shaw? Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”
With his chiseled countenance, Mr. Law Enforcement bore a striking resemblance to Clark Kent aka Superman. He’d probably be very handsome if he ever relaxed his rigid features. With effort, she wrenched her gaze to the computer.
She poised her fingers over the keyboard. “I’m boarding with Pauline Crockett off Seaside Road. Near—”
“I’m familiar with Miss Pauline’s farm.”
“You’re a ’been here then. Isn’t that what the locals call themselves?” She focused on the screen. “Which makes me a ’come here. What’s your telephone number?”
“Why? Are you planning to ask me out, Miss Shaw?”
Her heart palpitated. She was unused to—and unsettled by—the oh-so-masculine attention.
She gestured at the computer. “It’s for th-the form.”
He laughed. “Turnabout is fair play, remember, Miss Shaw?”
She pointed at a tray of business cards with the library’s website and phone number. “I think I have enough information to process the application.”
Was he flirting with her? Or mocking her? She lifted her chin.
He straightened, his hazel eyes going serious. “I didn’t mean to... I thought we—”
“It will take me a minute to create the card. If you can’t stick around, I’ll mail it to you.”
He shuffled his big feet. “I can wait.”
“In the meantime...” She shoved a welcome folder at him. “Here’s information about the services available at the library. And a schedule of upcoming events.”
She gave him a nice view of her back. Better to get this over with ASAP. “In the packet are the conditions and privileges granted to you as a borrower.” She worked quickly to laminate the card.
With the card hot off the machine, she faced him once again. “I should’ve asked for your ID first. Saved you the trouble of answering unnecessary questions. But per library regulations, I’m going to have to see some picture identification.”
A muscle ticking in his jaw, Mr. Law Enforcement fished his wallet out of his pocket. He extracted his license and passed it to her. She skimmed it for a split second.
She pushed his new library card and his license across the counter. “Here’s your card.” The less contact, the better.
Mr. Law Enforcement had a curious effect on her nerve endings. “There is a one-dollar replacement fee if you lose the card.”
“I won’t lose it.” The deputy inserted the cards into his wallet. “I don’t lose things I go after.”
She opened her mouth, thought better of it and clamped her lips together.
He smiled.
She caught the edge of the desk. The flash of those even, white teeth could blind a person. When he smiled like that, his stern countenance became almost handsome.
Evy placed her palms flat against the wood to steady herself. No almost about it. Deputy Charles Everett Pruitt the Third was quite handsome.
Heart-throbbingly handsome. He should smile more often. She wondered why he didn’t. Not that he and his smile—or lack thereof—were any of her business.
That was the problem with small towns like Kiptohanock. Especially small Southern towns. Everybody was into everybody else’s business. And the nosiness appeared to be contagious. She needed—to quote the stalwart Captain Kirk—to raise her shields.
Maybe local law enforcement made it a point to get to know newcomers. But Evy couldn’t afford anyone prying into her background. Not when she had so many secrets to keep.
* * *
When Evangeline Shaw’s expression transformed at the sight of Caroline, Charlie’s instincts kicked into gear. With her guileless blue eyes not so guileless anymore, he’d changed his mind about leaving the library.
Maybe the Duer sisters weren’t as off base in their suspicions as he’d imagined. Something was going on with the librarian.
He witnessed firsthand the melding thing the Duer sisters insisted she did with people. Practically blending into the background. Undercover agents could have learned a trick or two from the quiet librarian.
Exiting the library with Izzie chattering nonstop, Caroline did an admirable job of not blowing his so-called cover.
So he’d invented the need for a library card. Any excuse to justify his continued presence in Miss Shaw’s hallowed hall of books. But he’d embarrassed her with his mild stab at flirtatiousness.
Either she wasn’t the sort of girl who played games or, worse, he’d lost his appeal to women since Honey. Maybe Miss Shaw wasn’t into his type. Not every woman liked a guy in uniform.
“Was that everything you needed, Deputy?”
It hadn’t escaped his notice she’d misdirected his attempts to call him by name. He found her reticence intriguing. He found the touch of her hand disturbing.
Which might have been the most troublesome warning sign of all.
“I—I...” His gaze darted around the reception area. Searching for a reason to see her again. On behalf of the investigation, of course.
Charlie jabbed his finger at the purple poster tacked on the wall behind the librarian. “I want to register for the book club.”
Her brow puckered. “What book club?” As if unsure of his meaning. Or stalling.
“Do you have other book clubs?”
“No...only this one, which meets every Thursday night.”
“Then that’s the one I want to join.” He widened his stance, hips even with his feet. “It says you’re the facilitator.”
She turned and scanned the notice as if not trusting her memory. “Yes, I guess it does.”
“Okay then.”
She blinked.
“What do I need to do for Thursday? Just show up?”
She pursed her lips. Beautiful lips, he decided.
He scowled. Stick to the case, Pruitt.
Evangeline Shaw nudged her glasses higher onto the bridge of her nose. “Showing up is the least of what we do in the book club, Deputy Pruitt.”
She gave him a prim look he remembered an English teacher or two bestowing on him during high school a decade ago. “You need to read the book first. With today being Monday, I’m not sure you’d be able—”
“You don’t think I can read a book in three days, Miss Shaw?”
He also decided to make it his personal goal to be on a first-name basis with Miss Shaw and vice versa by Thursday.
“I don’t know if this particular book selection...” Again with the blush.
She wound a strand of her hair around her finger. “I mean, I don’t think this book would be your cup of tea.”
He grinned. “Good thing the only tea I drink is sweet.”
The blush deepened, and she stepped sideways. Barricading herself behind the stack of books?
He rubbed his chin. “How bad could it be? It’s not War and Peace, is it?”
“No...not exactly.” She toyed with the gold chain dangling around her neck. “It is a classic. Not your kind of book.”
Charlie cocked his head. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Miss Shaw, seeing as we barely know each other. Yet.”
Her eyebrows rose.
Charlie’s cell suddenly warbled.
The librarian’s eyes narrowed. “Is that the theme to...?” She hummed a few bars.
His turn to flush, he pried the cell out of his pocket. Caller ID indicated Caroline Clark’s home number.
Those Duer sisters. Couldn’t even wait for him to get out of the line of fire before they wanted a report. He’d had police academy sergeants less demanding. He clicked the phone off.
She propped her elbows on the desk. “Bonanza?”
“I liked Westerns as a kid. Still do.” He waited for the usual derisive comments.
Instead, she favored him with a genuine smile. And his gut flip-flopped.
“Me, too, Deputy.” She motioned toward the second story. “We have an entire section devoted to Western historicals.”
“Is that what the book club is reading this week?”
She fluttered her lashes. “Why no, it’s not.”
From underneath the counter, she drew out a thick, heavy paperback and plunked it in front of him. “This week we’re reading and discussing another classic.”
She smirked. “Welcome to the Jane Austen Reading Club, Deputy.”
Chapter Two (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b)
Tuesday evening, Evy was just about to lock up when—
“I’m in over my head, Miss Shaw.”
Evy shrieked. The key dropped out of her hand and fell with a clatter onto the library porch. Spinning around, she fell into the doorframe.
Stooping, Deputy Charlie Pruitt retrieved the key lying between their feet. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
Her breath came in short spurts, and she clutched the strap of her purse. “No thanks to you. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
The deputy nudged the brim of his hat higher onto his forehead. “I thought you saw me through the window when you set the alarm.” His brow creased. “You’re a nervous sort of gal, aren’t you?”
She drew herself to her full height—all five feet three inches. “When somebody creeps up on you in the dark? You bet I am.”
“I didn’t creep up on you.” He handed her the brass key. “And it isn’t dark.”
“Not yet.” She fisted the key. “The sidewalks here roll up at five o’clock. Anyone would be nervous.”
“Depends on what you’re used to, I suppose.” His eyebrow rose. “Kiptohanock’s a pretty safe place. Where was it again you said you were from?”
Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t say.” She stuffed the key into a voluminous tote bag.
“So you didn’t.”
Arms folded across his chest, he leaned against one of the brick pillars bookending the veranda steps. His long legs blocked her exit. Or did she mean, her escape?
“Was there something I could help you with, Deputy?” She gestured at the darkened building. “As you can see, the library is closed.”
She tapped her foot against the wide-planked boards. “Or are you stopping by to let me know you’ve decided to drop out of the book club?”
He smiled.
Evy’s heart ratcheted up.
“Actually, Miss Shaw, I did want to talk to you about the book club.”
“I’d be glad to return the book so you don’t have to make another trip.” She took a step toward him. “Did you leave it in your patrol car?” He didn’t take the hint to move out of her way.
His smile, if anything, grew wider. “I appreciate the personal service—”
She flushed.
“—but I’m not dropping out of the book club. On the contrary, I’ve managed to read through the novel twice.”
“Twice? Really?”
Charlie Pruitt broadened his shoulders and removed his hat. Which he placed over his heart.
Her heart did a minuet.
“Fact is, Miss Shaw, there are a few parts I’m having trouble digesting, and I wondered if you’d be willing to give me a few pointers so I’ll be prepared for book club on Thursday.”
“I’m—I...”
“How about over Chinese at the Four Corners Shopping Center?” He gave her a crooked smile. “I’m on my dinner break.”
Suddenly the space between them felt extremely intimate. As if there weren’t enough oxygen. Was he asking her out?
Of course not. He was asking for her help, her expertise. She was unused to male attention. Especially from someone so... She bit her lip. So male.
His mouth drooped. “You’re probably too busy. I didn’t mean to impose.” He ducked his head. “Or presume.”
She caught hold of his uniform sleeve. “I’m not busy.”
His eyes snapped to her face.
Evy let go of his arm. Could she have sounded more pathetic? “I’m mean, I’m never too busy for a library patron.”
Now she sounded like a cross between Mary Poppins and Margaret Thatcher. “I mean...might as well. We’ve both got to eat.”
Stop talking. She closed her eyes. Just stop talking.
“Great.”
She opened her eyes to find those long-lashed hazel eyes of his smiling at her. Her heart did a tango.
By sheer willpower, she dragged her gaze to the cleft in his chin. Maybe not a safe place to settle, either. Another blush mounted from beneath the collar of her white blouse.
“I’m an old-fashioned chow mein guy. How about you?”
She realized he was talking again. To her. “Umm... I like sweet and sour.”
“Of course you do.” He swept his hat across the length of the steps. “I’ll follow you there, Miss Shaw.”
“A police escort?” She smoothed the cuff of her blue cardigan and gathered her wits. “Should I be nervous?”
His eyes glinted. “Only if you’ve got something to hide.”
The deputy’s words felt like a kick in the gut. She quivered on the edge of the step. Perhaps this was a bad idea.
Hands in his pockets, he waited for her at the curb beside his patrol cruiser. But dinner—even dutch treat—with Deputy Pruitt proved too alluring a prospect for Evy to refuse. Law enforcement had to be suspicious by nature. It was probably nothing personal.
She hurried down the steps to her car and contemplated her next move. It might be smart to open up a tad. Allay any misgivings the deputy might have regarding a Kiptohanock newcomer. Disarm and distract.
And what better way to disarm and distract than a Regency-era book discussion?
* * *
In the alcove booth, Charlie edged back from the table. “You’re a total purist, aren’t you?” Aromas of soy sauce and stir-fry permeated the restaurant.
Evangeline Shaw paused midbite.
She gave him a sidelong look from beneath the eyelashes brushing her cheekbones. “What do you mean?” She lowered her chopsticks to the placemat adorned with Chinese characters.
“From classical literature to those.” His eyes cut to her eating utensils.
“Oh.” She swallowed. “Habit, I guess. Our housekeeper was Chinese, and when we went into the city, she always took me with her to visit her relatives in Chinatown.”
He pursed his lips. “So they owned a restaurant?”
The librarian pushed the plate away. “What was your question about the book, Deputy?”
“The two most famous Chinatowns being in New York and San Francisco.” He locked eyes with her. “But you don’t sound like a New Yorker.”
Evangeline Shaw held his gaze. “That’s because I’m not from New York.”
“So you call California home?”
The librarian lifted her chin. “As much as anywhere else, I suppose, Deputy Pruitt.”
“Please, I insist you call me Charlie. It’s the polite Kiptohanock way.”
He took a sip of the hot green tea and made a face. “This would be better with sugar.” He allowed a slow smile to spread across his face. “Everything’s better with sugar, don’t you think, Miss Shaw?”
Charlie enjoyed watching the librarian squirm in the seat across from him. He waited a beat before adding, “Or may I call you Evangeline since we’ve broken egg rolls together?”
Her lips quirked as if she fought the urge to laugh.
Maybe he hadn’t lost his touch, after all. “Were you a military brat?”
“No.”
Charlie held his breath, hoping she’d open up. Just a little. A little was all he’d need to get this investigation underway.
Her cherry-red Mini Cooper already sported Virginia plates. No help there. But he memorized the license number in the parking lot in case he ever needed it.
She took a breath and exhaled. “My parents are tenured English professors at Stanford.”
“Hence, I’m guessing, your early and lifelong love affair with books.”
She twisted the paper napkin in her lap. “That must seem lame to someone like you.”
He bristled. “What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?”
She motioned toward the badge pinned to his uniform. “You are a self-admitted nonreader, Deputy Pruitt. I’m guessing, a man of action.”
“My name is Charlie.”
“Why join the book club, Charlie? Pride and Prejudice isn’t exactly on most guys’ top-ten lists.” She arched her eyebrow. “If they even like to read. Which you made clear from the get-go that you did not.”
The diminutive librarian possessed a bit of steel. Good to know.
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m trying to keep a promise.”
She looked at him over the rim of her glasses.
“To expand my horizons. Jane Austen doesn’t have to be only chick lit, you know. There’s a lot in there for guys, too.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?” A literary gauntlet.
“Like...like...” He racked his brain for what he’d digested from his middle-of-the-night, off-duty incursions into Austenland.
She drummed her fingers on the table.
“Like a strong man doesn’t have to be afraid of a strong woman like Elizabeth Bennet.” Challenge accepted. “And it’s funny, too.”
She scowled. “In what way?”
“Her dad cracks jokes all the time.” Charlie rested his elbows on the table. “Any dude surrounded by all those women would have to see the hilarious side of life or go insane.”
“Oh, really?”
“You got any brothers and sisters?”
The librarian hesitated. “It’s just me and my parents.”
“So your dad was outnumbered, too. Is he funny?”
“My father and mother keep their heads in the clouds most of the time. Only thing I ever heard them declare amusing was a play on words in Middle English from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales.”
Chaucer? Was Evangeline Shaw for real?
She pressed her glasses higher on her nose. “Once, my mother giggled over a scene from the Bayeux Tapestry.”
“The Bayeux what?”
She fluttered her hand. “Never mind.”
He stared at her.
She fidgeted. “Stop looking at me like I’m from outer space. Theirs is an acquired humor. You had to be there.”
“There where?”
She sighed. “Most of their sabbaticals are spent in the French countryside. That’s where they are now.”
With parents like that, no wonder Evangeline Shaw loved books so much.
If anything, what he’d learned raised more questions in his mind. Like, what was someone like her—who spent vacations in France and probably spoke fluent French—doing in a tiny town in coastal Virginia? He vowed not to underestimate Miss Shaw again.
She cleared her throat. “We still haven’t talked about the book yet.”
“We’ve talked about several books.”
The librarian blinked. “We did?”
“Sure, we did. The Canterbury Tales, Pride and Prejudice and that Bayeux thingy.”
The librarian pushed at her glasses. “It’s a tapestry, not a book.”
Charlie pursed his lips. “I’ll look that up when I get off duty and remedy my sadly neglected education.”
Her eyes, like liquid sky, flashed. “Are you mocking me, Deputy Pruitt?”
Charlie hadn’t meant to rile her. “No, ma’am. I wouldn’t do that, I promise.” His heart hammered.
Then, understanding dawned on her face. “This foray of yours into literature is about a woman, isn’t it?” She fingered the frame of her glasses. “It has to be about a woman.”
He frowned. “Why do you assume it has to be about a woman? Are you mocking me now?”
“Is it or is it not about a woman?”
He fiddled with a duck sauce packet. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”
“She’s the one who’s the classical reader?”
This one he could answer without any check to his conscience. “She is.” He opened his palms. “Out of my league entirely, but hope springs eternal.”
“And this is where I and the Kiptohanock library come in?”
He gave her the tried and true, ever-reliable Charlie Pruitt grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Okay, then. Because that’s what I’m about.” Her cheeks reddened. “As a librarian, I mean.” She reached for the ticket.
He was a split-second quicker.
“This is supposed to be dutch treat,” she protested.
“Next time you can treat me.”
Her eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “Next time?”
“There’s next week’s book selection. I may need more tutoring.” He smiled. “By the way, what is next week’s Jane Austen book club pick?”
“You’re in for a treat.”
He got a sinking feeling.
“Another classic, Sense and Sensibility.” She batted those fabulous blue eyes at him. “You’ll have fun explaining to the group which you like better.”
Charlie slid out of the booth, the bill in his hand. “From your tone it sounds as if you’re assuming I won’t like Sense and Whatever.”
She scrambled after him. “My point, I believe.”
“Forget male pride. It’s your own female prejudice that makes you think guys can’t enjoy Jane Austen.” He laughed. “Did you catch what I did there?” He stuck his thumbs into his duty belt. “Pride...and prejudice...”
The staid librarian rolled her eyes.
“And there’s one other reason guys should read Jane Austen.”
She reached for her purse. “What’s that?”
He stuck a toothpick into the corner of his mouth. “It proves men and women can be friends.”
She planted her hand on her hip. “You got that from Pride and Prejudice?”
He twirled the toothpick between his thumb and index finger. “I think underneath the witty banter, the reason the chemistry worked between Elizabeth and Darcy was because they valued each other as friends first and foremost.”
Charlie shuffled his feet. “Maybe we can be friends, Miss Shaw.”
She tilted her head. “You think because I’m new here, I don’t have any friends?”
He remained silent, caught by the blond tips of her ponytail brushing across her shoulders.
She grimaced. “You wouldn’t be far wrong.” She extended her hand. “Call me Evy.”
He reached for her hand. “Evy it is.”
And she snatched the bill from him. With a triumphant glance over her shoulder, she marched toward the register. Where she proceeded to pay for both their meals while conducting a conversation with the cashier in a tongue he presumed to be Mandarin or Cantonese.
Middle English. Probably French. And now Mandarin?
Charlie held the door for her as they exited and shook his head.
Wow...not only out of his league. More like out of his galaxy.
Clapping his hat onto his head, he escorted her to the parking lot.
She dug through her purse, searching for her keys. “You don’t have to wait for me.”
“A Southern gentleman always waits. And it’s been fun.” Surprised, he realized it had been fun. With no urgent call from Dispatch, he found himself wishing dinner hadn’t had to end.
Finding her key ring, she held it up for him to see. “I look forward to hearing more of your Jane Austen insights at book club.”
“You and me both.”
She laughed.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “What I meant to say was, I look forward to seeing you Thursday, too.”
And he did. He’d not imagined the quiet librarian would be such good company. Or so entertaining. She was easy to be with. Despite her enormous brain, Evy Shaw wasn’t pretentious.
Clicking the key fob, she unlocked her car and got inside. With a small backhanded wave, she pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the sunset. He watched her taillights turn south on Highway 13 toward Miss Pauline’s.
What was the elusive Evy Shaw after here in good ole Kiptohanock? But recon mission accomplished, he’d managed to learn enough background to call on one of his PI buddies from California who owed Charlie a favor.
His shoulder mic squawked. He responded and jogged toward his cruiser. As he headed to investigate a reported prowler, he reflected that his unofficial undercover assignment might not be so unpleasant after all.
Who’d have guessed Jane Austen could grow on a guy?
Chapter Three (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b)
Getting ready for book club on Thursday night, Evy glanced at the clock more than once. And for the fifth time, she made a minute adjustment to the way the tablecloth hung on the refreshment table. As if Charlie Pruitt would care.
The ladies—if not Charles Everett Pruitt the Third—should have been here by now. Everyone must be running late.
She plucked a pillow from the sofa in the circle of armchairs. Despite their tête-à-tête over Chinese food, she didn’t think Charlie would actually show up to book club. But as she counted down the minutes, the dread—and anticipation—mounted. Her gaze flitted to the clock again.
Evy’s parents had no idea what she was up to when she accepted the librarian position. Would never have envisioned their timid Evy bold enough to seek out answers to long-held questions. Would have been shocked and amazed—not to mention dismayed—at her covert attempts to learn the truth. Evy had shocked herself with her uncharacteristic behavior.
Pacing, she punched the pillow with her fist. This was so ridiculous. So high school, so—
“Hey, Evy.”
She yelped and whirled. The pillow plopped onto the rug.
Arms folded across his uniformed chest, Charlie leaned against the threshold of the meeting room tucked behind the library staircase. Minus the hat for once, he grinned at her.
Her heart did a funny sort of cartwheel, so she scowled at him. She bent to retrieve the pillow at the same moment Charlie—
Their foreheads collided. She fell onto the sofa. He ricocheted into the wall.
“Ow!” She massaged her temples. “You’ve got a hard head, Deputy Pruitt.”
“I’m not the only one.” He frowned. “And I thought we’d moved past Deputy.” His eyes brightened at the sight of the refreshment table. “You didn’t tell me there’d be food.”
He loped past Evy. “I skipped dinner for the club tonight. Can I go ahead and eat, or should I wait for the others?” His eyes scanned the room. “Where are the other ladies?”
She handed him a plate. “They’re on their way with more food. Be my guest, though. Go ahead.”
“How...dainty.” He held a small cake square between his thumb and forefinger. “What’s this? Cake for a baby?”
“Mrs. Davenport dropped those off this afternoon.” Evy fanned the paper napkins on the table. “It’s called a petit four, Charlie. It’s meant to be small.”
“French.” He grinned. “I’m quick like that, huh?”
“You’re quick like something, all right...”
Heels clicked against the hardwood floor of the library foyer.
“Yoo-hoo!” Dixie, the waitress from the Sandpiper Café, tottered into the room bearing a platter of sandwich triangles. She stuttered to a stop. “Am I interrupting something, sugar?”
Evy took a step back. She’d not realized how close she’d been standing to the deputy. “You’re interrupting nothing, Dixie.”
Charlie winked at Evy. “You assume Dixie was talking to you.”
And he rested his gun-clad hip against the edge of the table. As if implying that he—as if they... Did the man never stand up straight?
She took the tray from Dixie. “Deputy Pruitt wanted to join our book club tonight.”
Dixie clapped her hands together. “How fun! I had no idea the book club was going coed. Can I bring Bernie next time?”
Bernie was Dixie’s husband. “Doesn’t his reading tend to favor spy thrillers?”
“True. He probably wouldn’t care for Jane Austen.” Dixie sighed. “Because of his work with NASA at Wallop’s Island, his literary tastes run toward the cloak-and-dagger stuff.”
Charlie snagged a pimento cheese sandwich off the platter. “It takes a special man like moi to truly enjoy the classics of literature.”
He helped himself to another sandwich as the other ladies arrived with additional refreshments. Evy made sure to give a special welcome to Ashley, a stay-at-home mom with three energetic children. The book club and church on Wednesday were her only nights out with grown-ups. Yet when Charlie’s shoulder brushed against hers, Evy quivered.
“I caught your attempt at French, Deputy. My, my, you are quick-witted.”
He pretended to tip his imaginary hat. “We deputies aim to please.”
Why did Charlie Pruitt make her want to laugh?
She moved beyond him, careful not to make further contact. “Welcome, everyone.”
Evy couldn’t help noticing how Charlie worked the room. He greeted every lady, who ranged in age from ninety-year-old Mrs. Evans to a thirtysomething Coastie wife. And he let them know he’d skipped supper. Evy hid her smile as she helped Reverend Parks’s wife serve the punch.
The women—young and old—fell over themselves plying Charlie with food. She needn’t have worried about how the ladies would receive his male intrusion into their girls’ club. He was like a rooster in the proverbial henhouse. And they were loving every minute of it.
“And the petits fours?” Charlie made sure he had Evy’s attention as he lifted the cake square off the plate, pinkie finger extended. “You’ve outdone yourself, Mrs. Davenport.”
Evy almost choked on her chicken-salad sandwich. He’d mimicked the French pronunciation exactly.
“You dear boy.” Mrs. Davenport fluttered her bejeweled hands like a schoolgirl. “How wonderful you know what a petit four is.”
“I guess I’m just smart like that. And what they are is delicious.” Charlie popped the bite-size square into his mouth.
“Let me get you another, Deputy.” Mrs. Davenport, also known as the grapevine of Kiptohanock, scurried toward the table.
Charlie waggled his eyebrows at Evy. She glared. Was the man never serious? Surely a deputy sheriff had to be more sober-minded than the likes of Charlie Pruitt.
But a smile played on her lips. He did know his way around a food table, she’d give him that. Around the ladies, too. Mr. Charming. Not her type at all. Not that Evy had a type to speak of.
At that not-so-happy thought, she took her customary armchair.
“Why don’t you sit close to Evy?” Dixie hovered at Charlie’s elbow. “Being a newcomer and all.”
Evy’s cheeks burned. She hoped no one was getting the wrong idea about her and the deputy.
“So you can see better?” Mrs. Davenport coaxed.
It wouldn’t do for the ladies—or the town—to get the wrong idea. This was getting out of hand.
He slipped into a chair directly across the circle.
“No worries.” Charlie leaned the chair on its back legs. “I like the view right fine from here.” He sent Evy a winsome smile.
Evy peered down the length of her nose at him. “Suit yourself.” She fretted at the cameo pinned to her blouse. “Shall we begin?”
Her lips might say one thing, but her heart? She didn’t like what Deputy Pruitt did to her equilibrium. Not one bit.
Evy didn’t have time for this...this inconvenient attraction. It went against her plan. She schooled her features. The plan must come first.
“Shall we, indeed.” Charlie grinned. As if somehow he knew the effect he had on her. Raising her chin, she decided to ignore him.
He took a deep breath, which broadened his chest. As if daring her to try.
* * *
Those remarkable eyes of hers.
Charlie decided he could munch petits fours and stare at Evy Shaw all day. This club thing was turning out to be a real pleasure.
But across the circle, those eyes of hers were shooting daggers at him at this moment. Smirking, he took another bite and chewed. He loved pushing her buttons.
She reminded him of a character in the musical the drama class performed his senior year at Nandua High. In her long-sleeved peach blouse and beige pencil skirt, she looked so Marian the Librarian. So uptight and upright.
It was kind of fun to wind her up and set her off—like watching a jewelry box ballerina go all dashboard hula girl.
His mind wandered as the women discussed various themes from the novel, such as class structure and reputation. His friend in California had verified what Evy Shaw had revealed of her past.
Midtwenties. Her parents were tenured English professors from Stanford. Before she’d arrived in Kiptohanock, she’d held positions in libraries from Miami to San Diego.
He stopped chewing. While still in the Coast Guard, hadn’t Sawyer Kole transferred to Kiptohanock from somewhere in California? Might prove interesting to find out where he’d been previously stationed and determine if Kole and Evy ever shared locales before Kiptohanock.
Charlie set the plate on his knee. Losing his appetite at the thought of them sharing anything, he swallowed past the boulder lodged in his throat.
Another fact he’d learned? Evy held advanced degrees in literature and library science from Stanford and the University of Oklahoma. Sawyer Kole grew up in Oklahoma.
Charlie kept his gaze laser-focused on Evy’s animated features as she led the group discussion. What was her connection to Honey’s husband?
Time to rattle Hula Girl again.
He cleared his throat. “One thing I found most fascinating...” the women—as if one entity—angled toward him “...was how first impressions can be deceiving.”
Perched in the armchair with her brown high heels planted on the floor, Evy laid the book across her lap. “You mean how Elizabeth Bennet’s first impression was that Darcy was a snob?”
Charlie rolled his tongue over his teeth. “I think that cuts both ways. Darcy and Elizabeth were both guilty of pride and prejudice.”
Ashley, the wife of a former football buddy of his, nodded. “Darcy was equally guilty of prejudging Elizabeth. Based on her lack of social standing.”
Charlie cocked his head. “Question is, Miss Shaw—are first impressions to be trusted? Or should you wait for proof that a person is trustworthy?”
She stiffened. “Sounds as if you advocate putting people on trial. Testing them before you deem them worthy of your friendship, Deputy Pruitt.”
Their gazes locked. The librarian was hiding something. He knew it.
Kelly Hughes, the Coastie wife, brushed a crumb off her jeans. “People are not always what they seem. Each of the characters hid their real feelings behind a mask of pride.”
Evy narrowed her eyes. “As a police officer, do you rely on your intuition in shaping your immediate response to people, Deputy Pruitt?”
“In cop speak, I rely on my gut. And yes, my instincts about a situation have kept me alive on more than one occasion.” Charlie curled his lip. “And on a personal level, I’ve learned the hard way it doesn’t pay to trust—or love—too blindly.”
Evy’s eyes bored into him. “Sounds as if someone hurt you very badly, Deputy Pruitt.”
His breath hitched. An awkward silence fell. Flushing, he wasn’t sure how this had become about him. Or how she’d managed to turn the discussion onto him.
Dixie patted his arm. “I think the real point of the story is how people can change.”
“Given time, evaluations can alter.” Mrs. Davenport wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Darcy focused on the wrong things first. But over time he saw Elizabeth for who she was. Really saw her.”
Evy’s brow puckered. “What do you mean?”
Peggy—his former high school math teacher who once upon a time loved marking Charlie’s homework with red X’s—thumbed through the pages of the novel. “He saw the real Elizabeth. And their courtship not only proved to each other their true character but also became the proving ground of their true love.”
Evy ran her hand over her beige skirt. “That’s very insightful.”
“And—” Jolene, an ER nurse at Riverside Hospital, got up to refill her coffee cup “—it was in the crucible of crisis in their courtship that Darcy saw the error of his own ways and understood his own great love for Elizabeth.”
Evy blew out a breath. “Wow. Great analysis by everyone. I’ve never seen the story that way before.”
Mrs. Davenport tapped her finger to her chin. “It’s never wise to come to a conclusion about someone until you have all the facts.”
Charlie couldn’t have agreed more. Which was why he’d decided to escalate his investigation. He’d never seen Evy and Kole together. Watching their interaction might provide further clues as to what was going on with a certain intriguing librarian.
Evy rose in a graceful, fluid motion. “Facts or trust? An interesting dichotomy for relationships. Which do we rely upon most often?”
Something tightened in Charlie’s stomach.
Evy rubbed her finger across the rim of her glasses. “Important questions to ponder this week as we move on to next week’s selection.”
Her beautiful eyes sparkled. “Sense and Sensibility.”
The meeting ended as the women cleared the refreshment table and gathered their belongings. At the ladies’ teasing looks, Charlie realized he’d given the Kiptohanock matchmakers entirely the wrong impression.
And what he was about to do next would only solidify that impression. The group followed Evy out to the foyer to collect the books for the following week’s discussion.
He hung back in the kitchen, waiting for Evy. “You’re good with children, Evy.”
She poured the remains of the coffeepot down the sink drain. “Thank you. I like children.”
“That’s why I hoped maybe you could help me with a project.”
She rinsed out the pot. “If I can. What project?”
“It’s for the department, really.”
“Sheriff’s business?”
“Deputy sheriff business.”
Her mouth quirked. “How in the world can a librarian like me be of assistance to SuperDeputy?”
“Who?”
She bit her lip and turned to wipe the counter.
He hunched his shoulders. “The library is closed over Labor Day weekend, right?”
She unplugged the coffeemaker from the wall socket. “Yes.”
“If you’d care to join me, I need to make an appearance—in an unofficial capacity—to present a friendly face behind the uniform to the kids.”
Stretching on her tiptoes, she stashed the unused paper plates inside the cabinet. “What kids?”
“The kids at Keller’s Kids Camp.”
She froze. “Sawyer Kole’s foster kid camp.”
Charlie didn’t like the sound of the ex-Coastie’s name on her lips. “Yeah. Him.”
Evy drifted onto her heels. “Isn’t camp over until next summer?”
“It’s a new two-month pilot program on autumn weekends. Follow-up with local foster kids. Friday night through Sunday afternoons.”
She averted her gaze. “The Duers won’t want me.”
“With the Labor Day harbor festival and folks on their last vacation before school starts Tuesday, I have it on good authority the volunteer pool is light this weekend. Too light for the number of children expected. You’ll be welcome.”
She looked at him, then. As if she didn’t believe him.
“We’ll be doing them a favor. You’d be doing me a favor.” He moistened his lips. “Would you come with me, Evy? Please?”
She searched his face. Not quite buying his explanation.
“I do love kids...” She gulped. “Sure. Why not? I’d love to go. Thanks for asking.”
He smiled. “I’ll pick you up Saturday morning. Bright and early. It’s a date.”
“Okay.” She tucked a loosened strand of blond hair behind her ear.
Following the motion of her hand, his heart beat rapidly. Should he trust his first impressions of Evy Shaw? Sweet, smart, very pretty. Was his initial instinct about her correct?
“You don’t have to wait for me, Charlie.”
“Of course I do. I’ll walk you to your car.”
She slung the purse strap over her shoulder. “Another Southern gentleman thing?”
He followed Evy to the front door. “Let me be one, okay? And for the record, I want to walk you to your car.”
Evy worried her bottom lip between her teeth as she set the alarm on the library. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. Before he did something stupid like touch her. Or kiss her.
Suppose he was wrong about Evy? Could she be hiding behind a mask, the image she wanted him to see? And if so, why?
Who was the real Evy Shaw? Was seeing believing in her case?
Maybe...maybe not. Only time would tell.
Chapter Four (#u6f0a5ef2-927d-5532-b3fc-df6b4b7d699b)
On Saturday morning, Charlie leaned across the truck cab and threw open the passenger door. “Hop in.”
The open door dinged. Evy hesitated. “Come on, Shorty.”
She sniffed and placed her shoe on the running board. Putting one hand on the seat and the other on the handle, she hauled herself onto the seat. “I prefer to think of myself as vertically challenged.”
He laughed and jumped out of the truck to come around and close the door for her.
“You didn’t have to do that, Charlie.”
He smiled. “It’s going to be a great day. Buckle up. Safety first.”
She smiled. “Will do, Officer.” She clicked her seat belt in place.
Charlie palmed the wheel as he maneuvered the rural road. “Glad to see you dressed appropriately.”
Evy extended her feet, toes pointed. “You don’t like the way I dress?”
He loved the way she dressed. The pencil skirts, high heels and silky blouses. But his favorite was the baby-blue cardigan she’d worn to the Chinese restaurant, which brought out the blue in her eyes. Charlie scrubbed a hand over his face. Since when did he have favorites where Evy Shaw was concerned?
Charlie stole a quick look at her. He liked her version of casual, too. The pink polka-dot Keds. The lime-green boatneck T-shirt. The cuffed jeans.
Only her ponytail retained her usual weekday appearance. And idly he wondered what her hair would look like spilling over her shoulders...gleaming in the sunshine...
His heartbeat staccato-stepped. “I like the way you dress just fine.”
Evy’s eyebrows rose as his voice went gravelly. He’d surprised her. Surprised him, too. Who would have guessed, in casual Kiptohanock, he’d take a shine to someone like Evy Shaw?
A shine... He lifted his ball cap off his head and resettled it. Where did that come from?
Sounded like something Charlie’s grandfather would’ve said fifty years ago. Evy had a way of bringing out the old-fashioned in him. She smiled at Charlie. And his heart flip-flopped inside his chest.
With effort, he refocused on the road. Was she happy to be riding in a truck with him? Or happy at the prospect of spending the day with the Duers? And if so, why?
Doubt ate at his stomach. He hadn’t always been so unsure of himself. But his confidence where women were concerned had taken a nosedive since his days with Honey.
He pulled into the long gravel driveway of the Keller farmhouse. Passing under the crossbars framing the entrance to the farm, the truck rattled over a cattle guard. Cedars and fencing lined the drive. Horses grazed in the pasture.
She sat forward on the seat. Her gaze flitted from side to side. Taking everything in. “I’ve never been here before.”
“Me neither.”
Her eyes darted to him. “You didn’t volunteer over the summer?”
“Nope. My first time to help out, too.”
“Oh.”
He’d have given a week’s salary to know what was going through that brilliant mind of hers. He didn’t have to wait long.
“Why not?”
He rapped his thumb against the steering wheel. “Too busy.”
“Too busy doing deputy stuff?”
“Something like that.”
He steered the truck beside a bevy of other vehicles outside the hip-roofed barn. “We’re here.” Parking, he allowed the swirl of dust heralding their arrival to settle.
Charlie spotted Sawyer Kole in the corral with a handful of children and a horse. The very pregnant Honey rested against the fence railing. Charlie was nervous. Nervous about what would happen next.
About how Honey would react to Evy being here. About how Sawyer would respond to him being here. Sure enough, when Charlie unfolded himself out of the truck, Sawyer’s arctic-blue eyes narrowed. Evy opened her door and got out.
Following her husband’s belligerent stare, Honey turned. “Charlie? What are—?”
Charlie knew the moment Evy stepped around the truck.
Because Honey went ramrod stiff. “What’s she doing here?”
Her husband refastened his gaze onto Evy. Sawyer took a step forward. Frowned. Halted in his tracks. The lead on the horse hung limply in his hand.
Charlie’s heart pounded. He didn’t like the intense look Sawyer gave Evy. Did they know each other?
Evy inched closer to Charlie. At his elbow, she shrunk into his side. Doing that melding thing she did. For protection? For invisibility?
Broadening his shoulders, Charlie creased the brim of his cap with his hand. “We came to volunteer. Heard you might need a few more hands with so many folks away for Labor Day weekend.”
Sawyer seemed to come to himself. “Don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting your friend.” He looped the lead around a fence post and came out of the corral. Wiping his palm on the side of his Wrangler jeans, Sawyer headed their way, hand extended to Evy. “I’m Sawyer.”
Charlie’s gaze bounced between Evy and Kole.
Behind the glasses, those enormous eyes of hers had fixed onto the cowboy. And she moved away from Charlie to grasp hold of Sawyer’s hand.
Charlie’s stomach cramped. Something curled in his chest. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pick Evy up in his arms, plop her inside his truck and speed away.
Toward hot cups of tea, Chinese food and library books. He shouldn’t have brought her here. She—he—they didn’t belong here.
She’s mine, he wanted to shout. Not yours.
But he did none of that. Like an idiot, Charlie just stood there. Hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Watching. While Sawyer Kole inexplicably took someone else from him.
“My name is Evy.” A shy smile, which twisted Charlie’s gut. “Evy Shaw.”
Sawyer’s brow knotted. “How is it, in a town the size of Kiptohanock, we haven’t met before, Miss Shaw?”
Charlie’s heart thumped in his chest. Honey followed on her husband’s boot heels. With one look at her face, Charlie could tell Honey was furious. At him.
“She’s the librarian.” Honey glowered. “No reason for you to have met.”
Charlie had wanted Sawyer and Evy to meet officially. He ought to have been more careful what he wished for. Sucker-punched by the unexpected sense of proprietorship toward Evy, he ground his heel into the dirt. She didn’t belong to him. He didn’t know why seeing her and Sawyer together disturbed him so much. Honey was right about it not being a romantic kind of connection. But there was a connection, something Charlie didn’t understand.
So he drew on his fallback emotion when it came to feeling out of control. Anger.
He inserted himself between the cowboy and Evy. “I guess not everyone is a reader like me.”
Evy’s gaze flicked to Charlie. “No.” A sweet smile for him. “That’s true.”
“I feel somehow, though, we’ve met before.” Sawyer tilted his head. “Do we know each other, Miss Shaw? From somewhere besides Kiptohanock?”
Charlie held his breath. Evy—with reluctance, he thought—shook her head. Disappointment spiraled. He let the breath trickle slowly between his clenched lips.
So this was about Evy. All about her. Not Kole. Which only made Charlie feel worse, not better. Honey had been right about Evy’s fixation on the Duer clan. Did Evy have a sinister motivation in coming to the Shore?
“Put us to work, Kole. That’s what we’re here for.” His mouth tightened. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”
The look Sawyer sent his way could have scorched the earth. “That your way of talking so somebody like me can understand?” There’d never been any love lost between him and Charlie.
Honey gripped Sawyer’s sleeve. “Sawyer...”
“If the horseshoe fits.” Charlie jutted his jaw. “Then, yeah.”
He and Kole were never destined to be friends. Too much history. Bad history.
Sawyer pushed the brim of the Stetson higher onto his forehead.
Charlie frowned. Sawyer’s gesture seemed familiar. But he couldn’t place where or why.
“Maybe you and Miss Shaw could help Mr. Keller with the other group of kids by the creek.” The smile Sawyer threw his way wasn’t meant to be friendly. “And leave the cowboying to the real cowboys, Deputy.” His attention returning to Evy, Sawyer tipped his hat. “Ma’am.”
Charlie’s blood boiled. Cupping her elbow in his palm, he gritted his teeth and dragged Evy around the corner of the house.
He didn’t like the way Evy peered over her shoulder, focusing on Honey and Sawyer as they walked away. She stumbled.
“Watch where you’re going, Miss Shaw,” he growled.
Evy stopped. “Are you mad about something?” she whispered. “Mad at me?” She blinked rapidly behind the glass frames.
Charlie hated the uncertainty in her voice. And one look at those eyes of hers... He had no right to be angry at her.
No business taking out his angst about Sawyer Kole—Honey, too, if the whole truth were told—on Evy.
He let go of her. “Is there a reason I should be mad at you, Evy? You haven’t done anything wrong, have you?”
The bridge between her perfectly arched brows pinched. “No, I guess not.” Biting her lip, her eyes skittered over the silver ribbon of the tidal creek.
She was lying. Or at best, hiding something.
Abruptly he veered toward the creek bank, where a cluster of children surrounded old Mr. Keller and a thirtysomething woman Charlie didn’t recognize. He left Evy to follow. Or not.
“Reinforcements. Hoorah.” Mr. Keller raised a child-sized fishing rod. “I was wondering how Felicia and I were going to drive the boat, bait hooks and make sure no one drowns.”
The lady helped a child thread his arms into a life preserver. “I’m Felicia Kerr. I’m a counselor with the county here to help the children get reacquainted with their siblings.”
“Charlie Pruitt.”
Mr. Keller handed around more life jackets. “Charlie is a deputy sheriff, kids.”
One or two of the children went motionless. Charlie understood. Some of these children’s only experience with a deputy had been the day when they’d been forcibly removed from their families for various reasons. He hoped by getting to know him, the children would gain more positive impressions of law enforcement.
Evy ventured onto the small dock. “I’m Evy Shaw.”
Charlie did his best to ignore the feelings—like dragonfly wings frolicking against his skin—her proximity evoked. He reached for the bait bucket. “We’re here to serve. Put us to work.”
Mr. Keller pointed his chin at Evy. “You’re the new librarian, aren’t you?”
“Guilty as charged. I’m afraid I’m not very water-savvy.” She wrinkled her nose at the fishy smell emanating from the bucket. “Or experienced in fishing. Are we going to have to touch those things?”
The children surged toward Charlie and peered at the contents of the bucket. “Oooh...gross...cool...”
A mocha-skinned little girl with colorful barrettes in the cornrows of her hair hung back. “I can’t get the buckle to click.”
Evy went down on one knee to inspect the orange life vest. “Let me see what I can do.” She untangled the clasp and clicked it closed. “There. What’s your name?”
“Latasha.” Her large brown eyes grew fearful. “I’ve never been on a boat before. S’pose I fall out?”
Evy took the child’s hand. “You hang on to me, and I’ll hang on to you. We’ll make sure neither one of us falls out, okay?”
Latasha hugged Evy’s hand. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Actually, not so well.” Evy gestured at Charlie. “But see this big guy here?”
Latasha gave Charlie a quick up-and-down appraisal.
“He knows how to rescue people.” Evy aimed her mouth in the direction of his ear. “You do know how to rescue people, don’t you?”
Charlie crouched beside Latasha. “I worked as a lifeguard at the pool when I was in high school.”
Evy smirked. “Of course you did.”
“Come on, Latasha,” called a boy, already seated in the boat.
“That’s my brother.” Latasha twined her fingers into Evy’s. “We don’t live together anymore.”
“You must miss him.” Evy stared at the water, glittering like diamonds in the early morning sun. “I sure would.”
Charlie stared at her. Something fretted at the edges of his consciousness.
She dropped her gaze. “I mean, if I had a brother.”
Latasha poked out her lips. “I miss my brother a lot.”
Evy’s eyes welled. “How wonderful it is, though, that you get to spend the weekend together at camp.”
Charlie reached for Evy’s other hand. “I think you’ll like fishing, Latasha, if you give it a chance. It’s pretty out on the water and peaceful waiting for the fish to bite.”
“Okay... I’ll try if you will, Evy.”
She didn’t let go of Evy’s hand as they stepped aboard Keller’s boat. The next few minutes were spent making sure everyone applied sunscreen.
As the boat chugged away from the dock, Keller pointed out the string of barrier islands across the tidal marsh, which emptied into the Atlantic. He increased the throttle as they left the shore behind. “I know a great little fishing hole, kids,” Keller shouted above the roar of the motor.
With the children laughing at the antics of shorebirds swooping in lazy figure eights over their heads in the bright September sky, Charlie propped his elbows against the railing. His favorite type of day. Out on the water.
He glanced over at Latasha perched in Evy’s lap. “Not so bad, see?”
The wind whipped through Evy’s hair and loosened her ponytail. She brushed a strand out of her eyes only to have it fly into her face again as the boat gained speed. She grimaced. He laughed and gave in to the urge to touch her hair.
He caught the silky blond lock between his thumb and forefinger. He tucked the tendril behind her ear, and his hand lingered. The bottom dropped out of his stomach. Looking into her eyes, he felt weightless.
Flushing, Charlie dropped his hand. And found Keller’s gaze on him. Keller winked.
The children squealed with excitement as the boat skimmed over the blue-green waves of the Machipongo Inlet. Evy did not. By the time Keller dropped anchor, she appeared a bit green herself.
Charlie, Keller and Felicia got busy showing the children how to bait their hooks. Latasha hopped off Evy’s lap and entered into the joy of the day. At first, Evy moved from one child to the next. Offering her encouragement, if not her expertise.
But finally she sank onto the seat at the railing. Her mouth thinned. A sheen of sweat broke out on her lip.
Charlie headed over to her. “Are you okay, Evy?”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “I—I don’t feel so good.”
“Try not to stare at the horizon. It’s the motion of the boat on the waves. It distorts your perspective and unsettles your equilibrium.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. She clutched her stomach.
“Mr. Deputy?”
He left Evy for a moment to help one youngster untangle his line.
Planting their feet even with their hips to widen their center of gravity, the children stood shoulder to shoulder around the perimeter of the boat. They called to each other, teasing each other, as the water tugged on their lines.
Latasha elbowed him. “Evy don’t look so good, Mr. Deputy.”
He pivoted. No, she didn’t. Then Evy leaned over the side of the boat and vomited.
He hurried over to her. “Evy?”
She retched again and again. He kept his hand on her shoulder. Silent tears rolling down her face, she emptied her stomach until dry heaves remained.
“I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment flushed her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
He ran his hand over the crown of her head. “It’s okay, Evy.”
“No,” her lips trembled. “It’s not.”
Felicia fished a tissue out of her jeans and gave it to Evy.
He extracted a bottle of water from the cooler. He unscrewed the cap. “Swish out your mouth and spit it over the side.”
Latasha left her fishing pole. “It’s okay, Evy,” She patted Evy’s back. “I’ll take care of you.” She sounded like a little mother.
Evy’s arm went around the child’s waist. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, Latasha. Not the other way around.”
Latasha smiled. “We’ll take care of each other.”
“Sorry to be such a landlubber,” Evy whispered to him.
“It’s okay. Really. Most of us on the Shore have been out on the water since we could walk. You’ll get used to it.”
Evy’s eyes clouded. The supercompetent librarian didn’t like feeling inadequate.
“Once we get underway back to shore, it won’t be so bad.”
“I don’t want to cut short the children’s fun.”
Mr. Keller shook his head. “These small fry have been baking in the sun long enough. Time to get back for lunch.”
At his words, Evy moaned.
Charlie eased onto the seat beside her. “Did you eat anything this morning before we left?”
She shook her head.
“An empty stomach is the worst on the water.”
Evy looked at him as if she didn’t believe it.
“No, truly. Once you eat something, you’ll feel—”
She groaned. “I may never eat again.”
“Crackers. Baby steps before you decide to starve yourself forever.”
“Fine.” She put a hand to her head. “But can we stop talking about food?”
“Whatever you say.”
Evy’s mouth curved up. “I reserve the right to remind you of that later.”
He laughed. “Good to know you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”
She made a face. “Just my appetite and my pride.”
* * *
Evy held on to Charlie’s arm for support as they stepped onto dry land. Weaving, unsteady on her feet. If only the ground would stop moving.
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