Linda Goodnight - The Wedding Garden

Three people stopped Sloan to ask about Lydia, but other than a couple of curious stares and the men coveting his Harley, the outing was amazingly benign.

Would wonders never cease?

By the time he slipped on his shades and roared away on his bike, he’d bought several hundred dollars’ worth of supplies and his head spun with advice. But a sense of excitement hummed in his veins. He didn’t give a rip about pleasing the town, but he could restore the Wedding Garden for Lydia…and stay under Annie’s radar at the same time.

As he approached the main section of town, he downshifted and cruised past stately homes, historic buildings and businesses that hadn’t changed all that much in a decade.

For the first time since he’d returned, he really looked at the town he’d once called home. Redemption was a beautiful place, idyllic some would say, with neat green lawns and clean fresh air.

There was even a story that healing flowed in Redemption River—or some such nonsense as that.

Sloan gave a short, mirthless laugh.

It was a story, nothing more, meant to attract tourists.

According to his aunt and his mother, Redemption was a town of good and caring people. He’d spent his whole life wondering where they were.

Thinking about the river gave him the urge to ride out to the bridge. The gardening center wouldn’t deliver until tomorrow anyway, and he sure wasn’t doing anything else. The longer he could avoid Annie and the curious buzz she created in his veins, the better.

He circled around Town Square, catching a glimpse of Tooney Carter, who raised a hand in greeting. Sloan nodded. He and Tooney had fished together as boys and gotten into more than their share of trouble along the way. Maybe he’d stop in sometime and catch up with his old friend. Funny that he’d want to.

Feeling positive about the day’s work and the fact that he hadn’t heard one cruel remark about his family, he gunned the engine and headed north toward the river bridge. With the wind in his face and the powerful Harley rumbling beneath him, Sloan felt free.

He’d begun humming “Born to Be Wild” when a siren ripped the peaceful atmosphere behind him.

Sloan glanced in his side mirror and groaned.

Chief Dooley Crawford had spotted him.

So much for his one good day in Redemption.

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