“Mr. Bridges. I remember him.”
Charles Lehman Bridges, the district attorney. The man Reverend Ed had talked to about going after Marguerite for statutory rape, for what little good it did. Sarah’s father had obviously thought Growler Redlander’s son was as irredeemable as the Shallows. Jase smiled to himself. With a little luck and a lot of hard work, he’d been able to make something of himself, but the Shallows were hopeless. Whatever the Methodists had done this time, it wouldn’t last.
He turned onto First Street and nearly ended up in the oncoming lane as his eyes took in a graceful rock-walled concrete walkway winding next to the river.
Damn! Someone must have finally gotten a flood control engineer involved.
Driving slowly, he rubbernecked the entrance to the park, where a large fountain sparkled in the setting sun. Gone were the knee-high weeds and scraggly underbrush, replaced by a carpet of green grass and scattered groupings of redbuds and mountain laurels. A line of frothy pink crepe myrtles bordered the wall.
Jase signaled for a right, entered the gravel parking area, and took a space two down from a dark blue minivan with a car seat in the back. Turning off the ignition, he rested his arms on the wheel and stared.
“I don’t believe it.”
Laurel grinned like a chessy cat. “The city council went after a federal grant to channel the river all the way through town and build up its banks. Then the garden club got into the act and planted the trees and shrubs. You should see the place in the spring. They seeded the whole area with bluebonnets and red poppies.”
Jase took a quick glance at the blaze across the western horizon and opened his door. “Let’s go for a walk while there’s still light enough to see anything. I want to check this thing out up close.”
They headed toward the self-latching gate at the entryway. Yellow lantanas crowded the path inside the park, and just beyond, surrounding the fountain, was a cobblestone plaza edged with clumps of purple verbenas.
Jase paused, absorbing the moment. Paved paths branched off from the plaza toward the east and west. Taking Laurel’s hand, he started down the path to the left, putting their backs to the brilliant sun. “We’d better get a move on. Wouldn’t want to get caught out here after dark.”
A frisky little dog, its pink tongue hanging out and its tail rotating with glee, scrabbled up the path toward them, two boys hurrying after it. The taller one held a leash with a red collar still attached.
“Petey, come back here! Stop! Stop!”
Jase laughed as the pup ran at them, but the escapee, obviously assuming Laurel was more sympathetic to his cause, made a beeline for her and leapt up on her legs. To Jase’s astonishment, she screamed and started flailing at the puppy as if she were being attacked by a pack of wolves.
Laurel was afraid of dogs? And this one was supersmall—probably a toy breed.
Jase reached down, encircled the dog’s middle, and lifted it up to his chest. The pup squirmed upward and licked at his chin as the boys rushed forward to claim their pet. The older one reached out as Jase handed the dog over.
“Thanks, Mister. Petey’s figured out how to slip his collar. He’s real smart.” He petted the pup’s head and regarded Laurel warily. “Sorry he scared you, ma’am. He just likes to make new friends.”
The younger boy nodded in solemn agreement. “Petey won’t bite.”
“Try to keep him on the leash from now on,” Jase advised. “Some people aren’t used to dogs.” He watched the boys as they carried their charge toward the gate.
“I guess I overreacted,” Laurel ventured, pushing her hair back into place. “I feel like a fool.” She glanced at Jase. “You probably grew up with dogs.”
“There were always a couple of mongrels hanging around, though God only knows why,” he said, still staring after the boys. “Growler never so much as put out a water bowl for them.”
Refusing to succumb to melancholy, he took Laurel’s hand, swinging it as they continued down the winding path. They walked in silence for a while, their shoulders and hips touching frequently. Just being around her soothed him. Somehow she healed a pain so deep within him that he couldn’t even name it.
A redbird flew across the trail in front of them, and a bushy-tailed squirrel sat up on its haunches to chitter at them for invading its territory. Gentle breezes rustled through the live oaks along the eastern boundary of the park. Except for a couple of runners who’d thundered past, they were alone on the path.
Was that a doe and her dappled fawns in the shadows? Jase wasn’t sure. One thing he did know—as long as Laurel was with him, he could walk down this trail forever.
He pulled her against himself for a long, tender kiss.
*