"That girl has no sense," those sparse words were whispered repeatedly like the harsh beginnings of a battle cry.
Wade heard numerous versions of the same sentiment muttered around town with disapproving eyes and even more censorious tones as people cleaned up in the aftermath of the parade disaster. The discontent gathered strength with each utterance until the magnitude of Bluebell's wrath struck the new doctor down like a flash of spring lightning with Lemon's sour words. That flat stick of spoiled butter had ruthlessly spread her creamy disdain to perfection and hotly greased the way for the townsfolk to guiltlessly railroad Harley Wilkes' daughter right out of town with Lemon's salty words and less than gracious decorum and it didn't sit well with him after the serious doctoring Wade had just witnessed.
Earlier, he'd stomped across the ravaged town square to that luscious little bit of New York sass's office planning to tear his own strip off her well-shaped hide for making him crash the mayor's float, his drawling speech had already formed with the 'Damn it, Zoe' introduction that almost dripped off his tongue with acerbic flavor before he heard the bustle of urgent commotion coming from the open door of her exam room. He knew that ruffle of hoop skirt and petticoats dangling off the table as limply as the nearly unconscious Breeland kinswoman was somehow the reason that the pretty doctor had foolishly sabotaged an event that was supposed to endear Zoe to her new neighbors instead of further alienate the Northern transplant.
Each second that the skilled brunette worked to save a snooty Belle that had publicly and purposefully insulted the lady surgeon just that morning showed Wade the strength of Zoe's true character. That woman's loyalty to healing went bone-deep because there were few residents of their antiquated Southern town that would further tarnish their own reputation to cover for a patient who hadn't wanted their debilitating ailment divulged just so that Betty could merrily waltz around one last time on some float like gentile royalty.
And, as far as he was concerned, little Miss Lemon tart didn't speak for all of Bluebell because he certainly wanted Zoe to remain in their rural Alabama hamlet. In fact, he wanted that sharped tongued bit of saucy goods to keep her savory curves real close to him after their preempted frolic the other night.
Before Wade even knew what he was doing, his low tone filled the empty wake of Zoe's crushed exit, "Dr. Hart sure went a little crazy there with the tractor but I guess I might have, maybe, deserved it." He sheepishly scrunched up his face in a charmingly chagrined way as the assembled crowd behind Lemon now scandalously hung on his every word, "I may have tried to steal a kiss or two without telling her that I was married first."
An audible gasp swelled up from the bystanders like a well-timed chorus of amens during one of Reverend Mayfair's sermons at his audacity. Wade rubbed his chin and shucked his shoulders in that adorable good old boy manner that had gotten him out of many a scrape before as the town heartbreaker raised his eyebrows in emphasis, "That Wilkes' girl may have been raised up North, Lemon Breeland, but, make no mistake, that's one fine woman with Southern sensibilities and standards at heart."
Even though Geroge's fiancé stomped off in a pouting huff of ridiculous petal shaped ruffles and even more frivolous sparkly bobbles without haughtily redressing his claim, Wade already knew the town would swiftly shift the bulk of the blame for the Founder's Day fiasco from Zoe's petite city slicker shoulders to his rebel rousing ones. They'd simply write the whole incident off as something akin to an overly exasperated sigh of what was only to be expected from Crazy Earl's irresponsible son and he could easily shoulder that condemning weight if the townsfolk would collectively give Dr. Hart another chance.
By this afternoon, the local gossip trail would have trended faster than any Twitter timeline that any woman who could turn down Wade Kinsella's legendary Lothario charm and then take him to task for it because of her good moral fiber was of strong stock that proved true to her father's well-established roots in their community. And, by morning, Zoe would be taken under the wing of many a Southern mother hoping to learn her secret prescription for abstaining from his sexual advances in hopes of passing on the virtue saving wisdom to their own precious daughters.
Wade had walked away from the messy spectacle of their town-square feeling uncommonly proud of his self-less defense of Zoe reckoning that her good turn with Betty Breeland had easily deserved one in return. It wasn't until later that night while working his shift at the Rammer Jammer that the bartender realized the seriousness of his seemingly innocuous actions. His deflecting fib had played a rather embellished game of Bluebellian Telephone during the sultry afternoon the likes of which he'd never experienced before when one of the old biddies that had sometimes tended to his Mama as a child marched up to him resolutely defying the aged creak of her knees. Mrs. Downing's lilting accent weathered by years of deeply ingrained traditions wrapped around him like an iron fisted manacle, "Wade Kinsella, you'd best do right by your new girl now and have George Tucker finally file those papers because that's the only thing that will assuage your lady doctor's delicate sensibilities."
He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed but even Wade couldn't miss the cutting truth that sliced over him as every pair of eyes in the bar backed the church going woman's sentiments. The town's people he'd known all his life were more than willing to overlook Dr. Hart's culpability with the crashed floats but it was going to cost him something he might not be able to handle after all. They expected him to make an honest woman of little Miss Zoe just like her Daddy would have and, realistically, probably every other father of a girl he'd dallied with over the past four years had as well.
His days of chasing any skirt that caught his roving eye were definitely numbered but, somehow, that didn't much bother Wade right now considering the entire population of Bluebell had just given him more than tacit permission to singularly chase a tantalizing pair of really shapely shorts for the next year without recourse. In fact, not even George Tucker would be given a free pass to so much as shoot an overly friendly smile in Zoe's direction now that the town matriarchs had gossiped themselves to an erroneous matrimonial conclusion.
Instead of correcting the dear woman who'd also been his Grandmama's best friend, Wade swallowed back a self-satisfied chuckle and charismatically agreed, "Well, alright then."
It was going to be so much fun wooing the city damsel in country distress into his bed with the entire town backing his randy pursuit. He'd seriously enjoy that seemingly earnest path to the Yank's promised land and, when, the good doctor eventually threw him over to return to the Big Apple at the end of the year having supposedly broken his heart, well, Wade would thoroughly relish all the sweetly outraged Dixie flowers lined up to offer their ample consolation as well.
Never again would this Kinsella underestimate what his Mama had always said about old fashioned sensibilities since they were now going to get Wade deeply buried far south of Zoe Hart's personal Mason-Dixon line during her stay here in Alabama. Suddenly though, Northern aggression took on a whole new meaning as the object of his heart's supposed fancy sashayed her cute little derrière into the bar seething his name.
Oh, yes, Zoe Hart might be screaming his name in anger right now but, soon, it would be pitched that high from sheer pleasure and Wade couldn't help but throw his hands up in front of him in a pantomime of self-defense and sweetly cajole, "Now, Doc, whatever you heard, I can explain..."
As their tiff rolled forth like the mighty Crimson Tide, the people of Bluebell avidly watched the sparks fly between two people who common sense said were mismatched but their Southern sensibilities knew were just about perfect for each other.