Chapter Nineteen
“Isn’t there some kind of limit on how many turns a person can take with this thing?” Cole climbed back onto the dunk tank platform at the Crimson Fourth of July Festival the following weekend, pushed sopping wet hair away from his face.
“It’s for charity, boss,” Marlene called from the ticket table she was manning next to the booth. She held up the cash box in his direction. “We’re making lots of money for the community center.”
“Yeah, Sheriff. Don’t be a bad sport.”
Cole glared at his brother, who was gleefully handing over another five-dollar bill to Marlene.
“I’m a great sport,” Cole argued, gathering the hem of his uniform shirt in his hands to wring out the water. It had been Marlene’s idea that he wear the uniform, but he’d refused the sign she’d tried to hand him that read Did I Give You a Ticket? No sense in giving the festival-goers too much motivation.
He glanced up at the clear sky, grateful for another bluebird day in Colorado. At least he had the sunshine to warm him between dunks, although thanks to the ice-cold water in the tank, he was still shivering slightly. “But you’re taking too much pleasure in soaking me.”
“Just loosening up the arm,” Shep said with a laugh, shifting his hold on Rosie. “You want to see Daddy dunk Uncle Cole again, sweetheart?”
Rosie clapped her chubby hands. “Dunk, Daddy!”
“Good idea.” Cole pointed toward Shep through the bars of the dunk tank. “Why don’t we change places?”
“Not a chance. Besides, the good people of Crimson want to see their fine, upstanding sheriff take the plunge, not his newcomer brother.” Shep turned to the crowd that had gathered in front of the dunk tank, tossing a ball in the air. “Isn’t that right, everyone?”
A round of cheers went up and Cole gave an obligatory smile and wave.
The festival was in full swing. Booths housing carnival games and food trucks lined the perimeter of the field next to the county fairgrounds outside of town. An oversize tent with picnic tables under it and a large stage were situated at one end of the festivities, and a three-piece bluegrass band played to an audience of older folks and families.
But the big draw this afternoon was the dunking booth, especially since Cole had climbed onto the platform thirty minutes ago. He’d replaced Jase, who’d only had a few people interested in dunking him. Cole, on the other hand, was a popular target.
First up had been Emily, then Katie Crawford, then Declan. Cole was pretty sure Sienna’s father would have rather aimed the ball directly at Cole’s head, but the old man managed to send him into the tank of freezing water on the first throw. Impressive for a man still recovering from a stint in the hospital.
Cole hadn’t complained or tried to defend himself against Sienna’s little posse of protectors. He wanted to fix the mess he’d made.
He’d even paid a visit to Declan’s house after he’d learned Sienna had moved in to help take care of her father. Declan had seemed to take great pleasure in slamming the door shut in Cole’s face. Cole hadn’t slept in a week, had no appetite and could barely focus on work as his thoughts were consumed with Sienna and how to win her back. But earning a second chance was difficult when she apparently wanted nothing to do with him.
“I’d like to dunk the newcomer,” a voice called out now, and Cole watched the sea of bystanders part to reveal Paige Harper glaring at Shep.
“It’s about time,” Cole muttered under his breath. “I need a break.”
“I’ve got a baby in my arms,” Shep said, glancing over his shoulder at Cole, then back to Paige. “Miss, I’m not sure what I’ve done to raise your ire, but I can assure you—”
“Save it, buddy.” She plucked the ball from Shep’s fingers. “Cute kid, by the way.”
Cole couldn’t help but smile at the shocked look on Shep’s face as Paige leaned in to tickle Rosie’s dimpled chin. The little girl, who was the shyest child Cole had ever encountered, giggled and reached for Paige.
“Stay with your daddy,” Paige said, smoothing a hand across Rosie’s soft hair. “I have business with your uncle Cole, too.”
Rosie flashed a toothy grin, then shoved her fist into her mouth.
Cole had never seen his brother at a loss for words, but Shep stared at Paige like she was standing there juggling in nothing but her birthday suit.
Paige stepped forward, eyeing the ball in her hand. “How much for a guaranteed dunk?” she asked Marlene.
“That’s not part of the deal,” Cole shouted. “She has to hit the target.”
“I’ll hit it all right,” Paige shouted back. “But I’ll wish it were your face.”
Shep let out a low moan. “A toddler whisperer with a temper? I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.”
“I tried calling her but she won’t answer,” Cole said to Paige, leaning forward as if that would prevent the rest of the town from hearing his words. He’d made a habit of keeping his private life just that, but somehow everyone in Crimson seemed to know that things had gone south between Sienna and him. Hard to believe, when it had been only a few weeks since he’d stopped her on the road from Aspen, but that’s how small towns worked. Nothing was private in Crimson. Not for long anyway.
