BILLY AND THE KID

by Kristine Rolofson

  "That would be a big help," Janie said, trying to maneuver her awkward body out of the chair. "I'll get the bassinet."

  "Just tell me where it is," Will said, giving her a hand as he frowned down at her. "Maybe you shouldn't be moving around too much."

  "I'm having trouble getting around today."

  "Yeah." He grinned. "I can see that."

  "Don't laugh. You'll get married someday and have all this to deal with." She gestured toward the braided rug covered with Matchbox cars and Lego.

  "No, ma'am," he drawled, putting his Stetson on. "I'm not the marrying kind."

  "Until this morning you weren't the fatherly kind, either." And until fifteen minutes ago Jane would have bet that Daisy McGregor didn't have a maternal bone in her well-endowed body, either. "I think this is going to be an interesting winter," Jane declared, panting a little as she made her way across the room. "Follow me, Daddy."

  She turned in time to see the cowboy wince.

  * * *

  "I will not fall in love with you," Daisy told the baby she held against her chest. "I don't care how adorable you are. Or how tiny. Or how sweet." She walked over to the door and flipped the sign over to say Closed to any passersby. Though with the amount of snow that was coming down now, Daisy couldn't imagine why even intrepid Montanans would venture out for a meat loaf special. Daisy switched the outside lights off and turned back to the restaurant to count how many tables were still occupied.

  Barlow waved his approval, but Heather continued to pour coffee for a table of six. Daisy watched the young woman plop the bill down and scurry off to another table of dessert-eating ranchers and their wives.

  She wished everyone would go home. She wished this baby would go home, though heaven only knew what was in store for her tonight. And tomorrow. And the day after that.

  It is none of my business, Daisy reminded herself, absently planting a kiss on top of the baby's downy head.

  "Daisy, did you really close?"

  "Yes. There's a storm and—"

  "Cool," Heather said, lifting the back of her hair off her neck. "I've got a date."

  "But the storm—"

  "Oh, that's okay. It's not like we're going anywhere, just to his house."

  Daisy pointed to the baby. "You do know where these come from, don't you?"

  "Unlike some people around here." She grinned. "My mother's already given me that lecture."

  "Good for your mother."

  "Hey, I'm only nineteen. And there's no way I want one of these little rug rats, that's for sure."

  "Even more reason to listen to your mother."

  "I hate to interrupt all this advice, but your boyfriend's back," Heather said, motioning toward the door. "Look."

  Daisy turned and sure enough, Will Wilson entered the room. Snow covered his hat and shoulders, and he halted to stomp his feet on the rubber mat just inside the door. "He's not my boyfriend," she said, keeping her voice low.

  "He will be, if you hang around him too long," the younger woman warned. "He's just that type, you know?"

  "Yes," Daisy said, holding the baby close. She knew the type all too well. She'd married two of them.

  Will still didn't think Daisy was the maternal-looking type, not with that curly yellow hair and a body that a movie star would envy. No, Daisy wasn't the type he'd have figured for baby-sitting, but little Spring looked as content as could be in the waitress's arms. If he didn't know better, he'd swear both females looked disappointed when he walked into the restaurant.

  "I got a bed," was all he could think of to say. Damn, he usually didn't get tongue-tied, but then again, this hadn't started out as a normal day.

  "Good." Daisy plopped the baby into his arms. "You'd better wrap her up and get on your way before the storm gets worse."

  "It's already tapering off." Spring protested when a snowflake from his coat brushed her cheek "But I guess I should get on my way."

  "I guess," she agreed.

  "You could come, too." She didn't look impressed, so Will added, "Just kidding. Sort of."

  "You'll be fine. You have enough formula?"

  "Plenty." Spring began to wail, heartbreaking cries that made every diner in the restaurant turn their heads in Will's direction as if they thought he'd pinched the kid or something.

  "Maybe she'll sleep in the car on the way home."

  But even Daisy looked doubtful as her gaze met Will's.

  "You think?"

  "I hope so." She raised her voice over the sound of the baby. "For your sake."

  "Well," he hesitated. "Thanks for the help."

  "Sure. I hope you find her mother soon."

  "Yeah. Me, too."

  "What?"

  He raised his voice. "Me, too!"

  A group of elderly ladies making their way to the door stopped to frown at him. "You don't have to yell at her, Billy."

  "I wasn't—"

  Maude put one arthritic finger to her lips. "Shh." The other women nodded approvingly. Will turned back to the waitress.

  "Look," he said, feeling more desperate than he ever had in his thirty-two years. "I'll do anything, pay anything, if you'll come home with me." Daisy laughed.

  Will didn't. "I mean it. I've got to hire someone, but I'm not going to find anyone on a Sunday afternoon in the middle of a storm, not in this town."

  "I have a business to run."

  "She likes you." He turned the baby so she faced Daisy.

  "You don't play fair, do you?"

  "Never."

  "Go home with him," Heather said, sweeping past with the coffeepot. "You're dosing up anyway."

  "You are?" At last, his situation was improving.

  He plopped the baby back into Daisy's arms. "Come on, I've got the truck all warmed up."

  "I'm not going anywhere," the woman repeated. But she settled Spring against her and tucked the baby's head under her chin. "Especially not to your house."

  "Ranch," he corrected. "Five miles north of town."

  "Good for you," she said, patting the baby's back. "All right, I'll keep her for tonight." She looked very serious, which made Will want to smile. "But just for one night. You obviously don't know what you're doing with this poor little thing."

  "You mean it?"

  She took a deep breath. "Bring in the bed. I live around back."

  "In Ralph's old apartment?"

  "It's been renovated," she said, looking down at the baby. "I must be out of my mind."

  Will didn't argue. From the minute he'd seen the baby he'd felt the same way.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  «^»

  "I don't know why I'm doing this," Daisy muttered. She opened the door to her apartment and the cowboy carried in a blue bassinet.

  "You're a sucker for babies," Will said. "Just like me." He stomped the snow off his boots before entering the kitchen, she noticed. Someone had taught him manners.

  "You're supposed to be a sucker for your own child," Daisy said, still cradling the child in her arms. "I don't have that excuse."

  "You don't have any kids?"

  "No. Follow me."

  She led him into the living room, a long rectangle that held the remains of two marriages and what she'd inherited from her grandmother.

  "Nice place." He set the bassinet on the floor. "Doesn't look at all like it did when Ralph was having poker games back here."

  "Thank goodness for that." She was proud of the one-bedroom apartment, pleased with the exposed log wall at one end of the living room. She liked her white walls and flowered rugs and elegant cherry coffee tables. Yet Daisy would bet that Ralph had made a lot more money in the gambling business back here than she did serving hamburgers and eggs out in front.

  "Well, yeah. It smells better, too," he said, peering at the collection of photographs on a shelf over the sofa. "Who are all these people?"

  "Family," Daisy said, wishing he'd mind his own business. "You'll have to get the rest of—"

  "They sure
look like a serious bunch." He turned around and smiled at her. "Is that where you get it from?"

  "You can save the personal questions for later. Right now you'd better go get the rest of Spring's belongings from the restaurant." She started to urge him out the door where he'd come in, but he stopped short.

  "There's a door over there that connects to the storage room and then goes right out to the kitchen, you know."

  "I know, but I'd rather not have anyone see you going in and out of my house."

  "I just did."

  "That's different. The front door just seems more, I don't know, acceptable."

  "So in order to protect your, uh, reputation I'm supposed to go out in the snow, around the corner, in the front door, grab the bags and then head out again?"

  "Exactly. Unless you'd just rather take this baby home tonight."

  "Without you?"

  "Absolutely."

  "You play rough, sweetheart." Again, that charming flash of a smile lit his face. "Okay, you win. Out the front door it is." He touched the baby's cheek with one finger and gazed down at her with an adoring expression. "I suppose a little more snow won't hurt me." He glanced up at Daisy. "I'll be back."

  Daisy followed him out to the kitchen and watched him from the window over the sink. The sky had darkened considerably, streetlights were shining through the snow and the trees that lined the school playground across the street bent in the wind. Billy—Will—hunched over, hurried past the building and disappeared around the corner.

  Daisy looked down at the baby, whose big blue eyes didn't look the least bit sleepy. "Your daddy wants to take good care of you, you know."

  Spring didn't blink, but one tiny fist moved.

  "But where is your mommy, honey? We sure would like to know." In fact, Daisy wasn't sure at all as she went back into the living room and sat in her grandmother's oak rocking chair. What kind of woman would leave her little baby at Billy Wilson's ranch? She'd taken a big risk, all right. The man could have been sleeping somewhere else on a Saturday night and not even have been home Sunday morning to welcome his baby. Or he could have had Sheriff Pierce deliver the child to some child-welfare agency. He could have said "Not mine" and never be faced with changing diapers or heating bottles or being nice to overworked waitresses. But he hadn't. Which didn't go along with his reputation at all. Unless he loved the baby's mother and thought this baby would be the connection between them, if she did know who that woman was, she'd sit her down and give her a good piece of her mind. Imagine abandoning a little baby. What on earth had that woman been thinking? Daisy rocked the baby gently until Spring's eyes closed. Until the opening of the back door and the stomping of cowboy boots almost caused her to open them again.

  Daisy was torn between scolding the cowboy or keeping still and hoping Spring wouldn't waken. It didn't stop her from glaring at him when he entered the room with fistfuls of plastic shopping bags. "You have to be quiet," she whispered. "I just got her to sleep."

  He stepped closer and they both looked at Spring's closed eyelids. "She still looks pretty sleepy to me," he said. "Where should I put this stuff?"

  "Anywhere," she said. "Just be quiet doing it."

  He dropped them where he stood, taking care not to let the plastic make more than a quiet rustling sound. "Now what?"

  "Can you boil water?"

  "Sure," he gulped. "What are we going to do?"

  "You're going to make tea," she explained. "And I'm going to try to get your daughter to sleep in her bed."

  "Good plan." He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of an overstuffed chair, then put his hat on top of it. "Uh, you wouldn't have anything stronger?"

  "There's whiskey in the cupboard to the right of the sink." She hesitated. "You're not going to get drunk, are you?" He looked puzzled. "I've heard the stories," she explained. "You're a regular legend around here."

  He glared at her. "I am not going to get drunk. But I sure as hell don't mind a swallow of whiskey on a cold January night."

  "Then be my guest."

  "Forget it. You want tea? I'll make tea." He disappeared into the kitchen and Daisy heard the water running and the kettle bang on the top of the stove. Then cupboard doors squeaked open and shut until Daisy figured he'd found the mugs and tea bags. Daisy closed her eyes and rocked for a few long minutes while her feet burned and her legs ached from working since five-thirty that morning. She'd been glad for the excuse to close up early. She hoped her plans for a pizza business would make enough money so she wouldn't have to work seven days a week. She wanted to stay here in this town, wanted to put down roots and make a life for herself. She wanted to grow old here, surrounded by people she'd known for years. She wanted to make friends, meet a nice man, have a few nice children.

  But first, this baby who'd been jostled around by strangers all day was going to sleep in a bed. Daisy smiled to herself when she heard a muffled curse come from the kitchen. The baby's father had a lot to learn, too, but that could wait. She'd drink her tea and put the baby to sleep and then she'd take a quick shower to wash the smell of deep-fryer grease from her hair.

  Daisy kept her eyes closed and rocked gently for long, relaxing moments until she heard Will set a cup on the table.

  "Thanks," she whispered, blinking at him as she stopped the rocker.

  He kept his voice low. "No problem."

  Daisy saw that the little girl was still asleep. "I'm going to try to put her to bed," she whispered, easing herself out of the chair. She tiptoed over the couch and laid Spring on her back before adjusting the pink blanket around her.

  So far so good, Daisy thought, tiptoeing back to pick up her tea. She motioned to Will to follow her into the kitchen.

  "I think she'll sleep for a while," she told him as she sat at the tiny table that was just big enough for one person. "She just needed a quiet place."

  "Yeah. It's been one hell of a day." He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  "You'd better get some rest," she said.

  "Not yet," he said. "Can I use this phone?"

  "Sure, but—" She stopped as he lifted the receiver from the wall. How could she tell this stranger that she wanted him to leave so she could shower while his baby slept? "Look, Will, she's not going to sleep for more than an hour or two, so I think you should—"

  Too late. He'd turned around to talk into the receiver. "Joe? Any luck?" Silence. "No problem. Tell her the baby's sleeping in it right now. Yeah. Tomorrow." He hung up the phone and turned to face Daisy again. "No luck finding who left Spring with me. A semi accident on the interstate kept Joe busy for hours."

  "What did you expect him to do?"

  "Look for a young woman in an old truck with a bad muffler."

  "You know who she is?"

  "I have a pretty good hunch. What were you saying about the baby sleeping?"

  "Oh." She sipped her tea. He hadn't put sugar in it, but she didn't have the energy to get up and get the sugar bowl from the counter. "You should go home now. Can you be back here at six? I have to open up before that, but I can bring her out front with me for a little while."

  "Go home?"

  "Well, that's the general plan. I'm hoping she'll sleep for a few hours now. She's going to want to eat every three or four hours and I can sleep in between—"

  "I'm not leaving her," Will said.

  "You can't take her out in the cold, either. It's not good for her."

  "But I can't leave her," he repeated, folding his arms in front of his chest again. "That wasn't the plan."

  "It was my plan," she insisted, wondering what in the world was the matter with him. "You didn't think you were staying here, too, did you?"

  He nodded. "For baby lessons."

  "Baby lessons?"

  "You said you were going to teach me how to take care of her."

  "Not tonight."

  "Daisy, who else can I ask? Joe is busy with cop work, Janie can barely get up from a chair, and the rest
of the town thinks I'm either a drunk or a rodeo stud."

  She couldn't disagree with that. "A rodeo stud who now has a baby to care for. Go home and get some rest."

  He didn't budge. "You said I've got a lot to learn."

  "You know diapers, bottles and burping already." Lord, her feet ached and now her head was joining in the torture. "Go home and I'll teach you the rest tomorrow."

  "Honey, I can't leave her. Not now, when I just got her."

  "You can't stay here. Everyone will see your truck parked outside."

  "It's parked around the corner, at the gas station. It'll look like it needs work."

  "I should have minded my own business." Will crossed the space between them in one stride. He leaned on the table and smiled into her eyes. "Now, honey, what kind of fun is that?"

  "Don't 'honey' me." Daisy leaned her head on her hand and studied the man determined to spend the night in her house. He was handsome, but he was a little crazy, too. The charming cowboys always were.

  * * *

  "Sweetheart, please don't look at me like that," he pleaded, looking down into a pair of tear-filled blue eyes.

  Spring paid no attention. Instead she opened her mouth even wider and howled loud enough to wake the dead. Will knew he was in one hell of a jam here. He could hear the shower running at the other end of the small apartment, so Daisy was going to be no help at all. He didn't know whether to hope she heard the baby's cries and would come and rescue them both, or to hope that she heard nothing and would think he was approaching some kind of competence with a thick wad of paper diaper. How did anything so bulky end up on the bottom hail of a baby? Especially a baby whose legs kicked and arms flailed as if she were trying to stay on a championship bull.

  "I'm doing the best I can," he said, trying not to scrape her soft belly with his callused fingers. His left thumb, which had been broken more times than he could remember, managed to tape one side of the diaper pretty much the way Joe had showed him. He was working on the right side when he heard Daisy turn off the shower water. Damn, he was going to hear it now. It hadn't been the best evening of his life. Daisy acted like he was the kind of cowboy who left hordes of pregnant women in every town after every rodeo. Hell, there'd been some nights he'd been so busted up that the only women who'd looked good were the nurses carrying pain pills.