Maude looked disappointed. "With blankets?"
"Yes," Daisy said, "but why—"
"Darn it all to heck, I told Hazel we'd better get on the stick and get this put together real soon. But no, she had to ask Martha's opinion and it takes two days to get that woman to make up her mind about pink or yellow borders." Maude leaned forward and looked at Daisy. "Pink, I said. Don't you agree?"
"For what?"
"The quilt. We got together and whipped up a little quilt top last night. Nothing fancy, mind you, but plenty nice, since June Briggs had some pretty little nine-patch squares all done up already, just for an emergency."
Jane smiled. "You made Spring a quilt? That's so nice."
Maude patted her hand. "I just know that pink one we gave you and Joe is going to come in handy this time. Do you have a name picked out if it's a girl?"
"Hannah, I think," Jane mused. "Do you think that's too old-fashioned?"
"It's lovely, just lovely," Maude said, and turned back to Daisy. "So, what do you think?"
"I like the name," she said. "I have an aunt—"
"Not about Hannah," Maude said, wagging a finger at her. "The quilt. When should we give it to him?"
"I think that's up to you," Daisy replied. "But I'm sure Will would be very happy to—"
"No," Maude said. "We can't have the shower at his house. I can just imagine how that miserable grandfather of his left that place. No, we thought we'd have it here, since the two of you are such good friends and you've been helping with the baby." She turned to Jane. "I have to say, I hope that no-good wife of his stays away from town. Can you imagine leaving a baby like that, in the care of a rodeo man? What could she have been thinking?"
Jane's eyebrows rose. "I don't think—"
"—we should be talking about her," Daisy finished, giving Jane a warning look.
Her new friend only look amused as she answered the older lady. "You want to have a baby shower for Spring, Mrs. Anderson?"
"Yes. That poor little motherless babe most likely needs a few things to welcome her to the community. And we thought we'd have it here."
"Here? In the café?"
"That way Billy won't feel too overwhelmed by so many women."
"I don't think that's a problem for him," Daisy murmured.
"What a good idea," Jane agreed. "The café is the perfect place."
"Is Friday afternoon good? There'll be about ten of us, maybe more if June gets the word out Maybe you could have a soup-and-sandwich special that day—nothing too heavy, though– and I'll get a sheet cake from the supermarket."
"Oh, let me do that," Jane said. "I'll order it today and if I happen to be having a baby by Friday, someone else can pick it up."
"That would be lovely," Maude agreed. She smiled at Daisy. "Now you'll make sure he's here on Friday, at noon?"
"Me?"
"You," Jane said, barely hiding her amusement. "Since you're one of his closest friends."
Maude nodded and reached over to pat Daisy's hand. "Just be careful, dear. Billy has always been a wild boy. Attracted the girls like flies to honey. Still, if his wife has really left him." She looked at Daisy through narrowed eyes. "He may be ready to settle down."
"Which is none of my business," Daisy insisted. "Really, it's not. We're barely even friends and I was only helping out with Spring because he didn't know anything about babies."
Maude released Daisy's hand and shook her head. "Dear, what man does?" She scooted out of the booth, almost bumping into Heather, who'd come over to the table, her order pad in her hand. "I'll leave some corn bread for Heather for tonight. I'm not coming back later. Chili doesn't agree with me."
"Thank you," Daisy called.
"She can't hear you," Jane said. "Not unless you're in close range."
Heather stepped up to the table. "You want some tea or coffee or anything?"
Daisy turned to Jane. "Can you stay for a few minutes?"
"Sure, if you're going to sit and drink a cup of tea with me." She looked at her watch as the waitress hurried off to the counter to fix their drinks. "I don't have to pick up the boys for another hour and I still have to buy some groceries. What about you? Do you have time to tell me about Will's wife?"
"I made it up, because the women were all gossiping about it over lunch, so I told them his wife suffered from postpartum depression and disappeared."
Jane began to laugh. "Well, it worked. Does he know?"
"Yes. He wasn't too pleased, but I think he's been too busy with the baby to care."
"It's all going to work out," Jane insisted, still looking as if she wanted to burst into laughter. She looked very cheerful for someone who was overdue to have a baby.
"What do you mean?"
"Spring's going to get a quilt, which is a time-honored town tradition. It's bound to be gorgeous, too, because those ladies sure know how to quilt."
"It's very sweet. I feel so guilty."
"Don't. Spring deserves it. But when you start dating Will, the whole town will think you're going out with a married man."
"She's not going out with Billy Wilson," Heather said, setting two mugs of tea on the table. "She's determined to date Leroy."
Jane stared at Daisy as if she'd lost her mind. "Leroy Doyle? Why?"
Heather answered for her. "She likes kids, and he's got three of them. If you ask me, I think old Leroy is just looking for help with those teenagers of his. And maybe some home cooking, too. He probably thinks because you run a café that you know how to cook."
"I do know how to cook," Daisy insisted, "but that's not the point. Thanks for the tea," she said, hoping the young woman would get the hint and go back to the counter to talk to the young man who was pretending not to watch her.
"Anytime, boss." Heather looked at Jane. "Talk some sense into her, Mrs. Pierce. Who'd pick Leroy Doyle over Billy Wilson?"
Jane opened a sugar packet into her cup. "That's exactly what I want to know."
"A sensible woman," Daisy said, taking a careful sip of tea. "A woman who has tangled with too many cowboys and who would be a fool to do it again."
"I see," Jane said, once again looking as if she was trying not to laugh. "This is the same sensible woman who took a stranger's baby—and the stranger—home with her last Sunday night?"
"From now on, I'm going to say no," she promised. "I'm getting too old for this kind of nonsense." For some reason that only made Jane laugh harder.
* * *
The Willie Nelson song, the one about not letting your babies grow up to be cowboys, rang in Will's ears. It had been the last song on the radio as he had driven into Safeway's parking lot and pulled the truck into a spot by the supermarket's front door.
"That's good advice," he told Spring, who gave him a look that said: Get me out of this car seat before I start screaming. It was a look Will and his eardrums had come to respect. "Uncle Will doesn't want you getting into trouble with any young men, whether they're cowboys or not," he told her, hoping that conversation would delay the inevitable hollering of a baby who wanted either dry pants or a warm bottle. If he could get some groceries before Spring got too upset, then he could head over to the café and see if he could persuade Daisy to help him out.
Which she might not do, considering yesterday's disaster. Okay, so it hadn't been the smartest thing to tumble Daisy McGregor onto his mattress and attempt to remove her bra in the process. He should have shown more restraint. But she'd kissed him back, and those soft, ample breasts had pillowed right against him and the next thing he knew he was lying on the mattress, figuring that Daisy's lush body was going to be his.
"Ahhhhh," Spring squeaked, frowning up at him as he untangled the car seat straps from around her.
"Don't kiss any cowboys, either, not unless you mean business," he told the infant. "We're a hot-blooded lot, you see, and it doesn't take much to get—oh, hi there, Mrs. Briggs." He tucked Spring against his chest and, congratulating himself on how good he was getting at dealing with
this one-handed stuff, managed to lock the truck and show off his baby to one of the gray-haired old biddies of the town.
"She's got the look of your mother around the eyes," Mrs. Briggs declared, then eyed Will. "I hear her mother ran off and left you."
"Yes, ma'am," Will said through gritted teeth.
"You're better off without a woman like that," she said, and surprised him by patting his arm. "You'll do fine, Billy. Your mother always said that you'd come home and settle down some day."
"She did? I didn't know you—"
"Talked about you?" June Briggs nodded. "She joined our canasta group some years back, after your grandmother died. I think she liked getting off the ranch and playing cards once a week."
He'd forgotten about that. "She liked going to town."
"What about that sister of yours? Do you ever hear from her?"
"Once in a while," Will fibbed, and then changed his mind. "I'm trying to find her right now."
Mrs. Briggs touched the baby's cheek with one gnarled finger. "You could use the help, I suppose," she said. "The McGregor woman has a business to run and doesn't seem much like the ranch-wife type."
"No," Will said, unsure if he was agreeing or not. He watched as Mrs. Briggs managed to back out her old Chrysler without hitting any other cars and then, Spring tucked firmly against his chest, he hurried into the store, the words "ranch wife" echoing ominously in his head.
He wanted to sleep with Daisy, not put a wedding ring on her finger. Which made him wince. But hell, one week of baby-sitting couldn't turn him into Joe Pierce.
* * *
Daisy heard spring before she saw her. She'd just placed another bowl of chopped onions on the serving table underneath the window when she saw Will step inside the café, the screaming baby in his arms. Not that anyone noticed, with the crowd that was stuffed inside the room. The basketball team could be pleased that the fund-raiser was such a success.
Will frowned as he approached her. "What the hell is going on here? Half the town—" He paused when a blond-haired cheerleader asked him for a five-dollar donation to the chili supper. "Sure, honey," he said, handing Daisy the baby so he could get his wallet out of his jeans pocket.
"Thanks, Mr. Wilson," she said. "If you want to buy a raffle ticket you can go see my mother, over there in the corner."
Will looked stunned. "Darlene's old enough to have a teenage daughter?"
Daisy handed the baby back to him. "None of us is getting any younger. And this stinky baby needs a clean diaper."
"That's why I came," he said, turning to show her the diaper bag hitched over his shoulder. "See? I'm prepared."
"Prepared to do it yourself, I hope," Daisy said, trying to edge away. Just standing too close to him did strange things to intimate parts of her body. She'd been alone too long, she told herself. And she was way too susceptible to handsome men. "You can use the apartment if you want."
"Hey, thanks." He smiled, that sexy smile she'd noticed the first time she'd seen him. "Can you come, too?"
"I'm busy."
"Doing what?"
"Refilling condiments." She pulled her key chain from her apron pocket and handed it to him. "There you go."
"Aren't you afraid someone will talk?" He dangled it from his index finger for all the world to see.
"Too late." Daisy decided she'd tell him about the baby shower later, when Spring wasn't hollering at the top of her lungs. "You'd better go before she turns any redder."
He glanced down at her. "A few days ago this would have bothered me. Now I'm standing here flirting with you while she has a fit."
"We're not flirting."
Will smiled again. "If I tell you that you're gorgeous when your hair is falling down your neck and you have tiny beads of sweat on your forehead and your lips look like you need to be kissed, is that flirting?"
"Yes," Daisy said, hoping she wasn't blushing because several people had started to stare at them. "And if I told you that yesterday was a mistake and from now on you'd better keep your distance, what would you call that?"
Will Wilson didn't blink. He went on giving her that lazy once-over while the baby cried and he bent down and whispered. "Why, honey, I'd call that a challenge."
"Good luck with that diaper," she called as he turned around and headed for the front door. She hoped it was the smelliest and nastiest diaper that had ever existed. Daisy surveyed the chili table to make sure everything was in order before she returned to the kitchen. Leroy hadn't shown up yet, but when he and his kids arrived, she'd make sure to give him another chance.
* * *
"Looks like you've got a rival," Joe said.
Will gave Spring to a mature-looking teenage girl, along with ten dollars. "Are you sure you know how to hold her?"
"I have three younger sisters, Mr. Wilson," she said, taking the baby to a booth where several other teenagers waited.
"They've started to call me Mr. Wilson," he said. "God, that sounds old."
"Pay attention, Will." Joe nodded toward the counter, where seven men sat on stools. One of the men was deep in conversation with a smiling Daisy, who looked only too pleased to refill his coffee for him. "Doyle is a man who needs a wife."
"Why?" Will glanced in that direction, but only saw a heavyset man with graying hair above the collar of a brown flannel shirt. Daisy stood across the counter from him and seemed to be paying attention to his conversation.
"He's a widower with three teenagers. He's been trying to get Daisy to go out with him since the first day she took over the café."
"She never said yes?"
"Nope, not that I know of, but I wouldn't bet money against it tonight."
Will swore under his breath. "If he touches her I'll kick his—"
"Don't make threats in front of the sheriff," Joe said, trying to keep a straight face. He looked over at Jane and winked.
"She's mine," Will declared, realizing as he said it that he'd never meant anything more. He watched Daisy carefully to make sure she wasn't standing too close to that jerk.
"Does the lady know that?"
"Not yet, but she will. Later. In private."
Joe let out the breath he'd been holding. "Good. I didn't want to have to break up a fight on my night off." He managed to sneak a thumbs-up sign to his wife without Will noticing. "So what are you going to do?"
"Take her home."
"She's not a puppy."
Will didn't appreciate the joke. "Why is she smiling at him?"
Joe shrugged. "Jane says Daisy wants to settle down with a family man. And you're not exactly the type." He hesitated before adding, "Or are you?"
"I've got a ranch, a dog, three horses and a baby. I'd say I'd qualify."
"You don't have the wedding ring," Joe said. "You don't want the wedding ring."
"That's the last thing I want or need," Will muttered. "But I want that woman. And Doyle can't have her."
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you sounded like a man in love."
"Who's talking about love?" Will didn't take his gaze from Daisy, even when she looked up and saw him watching her. That defiant chin lifted and she deliberately turned away, but Will knew she was still thinking about last night. Or he hoped she was. Joe laughed. "You've got it bad."
"I'm fine," Will insisted. "And it has nothing to do with love and wedding rings." But it had everything to do with the way Daisy kissed him and the way she felt in his arms.
Nothing more.
* * *
Chapter 9
«^»
"Daisy, honey," Will purred, stepping up close to touch his lips to her forehead in an intimate manner. "Thanks again for the help with the bed yesterday." He made "bed" sound like "sex," for heaven's sake. Daisy stepped away from him, but bumped into the edge of the counter. "It was nothing," she said, hoping that the men seated on nearby stools weren't listening. She glanced toward them on the pretense of checking their glasses. "Anyone need more water?"
Leroy lifted his gla
ss. "I do, thanks."
The man next to him shook his head. "How you can eat that sh—stuff from Ellie Carson I'll never know. It's got no flavor. Aren't you going to put some more hot sauce in it?"
"Some men don't like it hot, Charlie," Will said over Daisy's head, so she gave him an elbow in the ribs.
"Excuse me, Will." Daisy refilled Leroy's glass and gave the quiet man a quick smile. He was nice enough, if you liked the kind of man who never said much of anything. Leroy had kind eyes, but he looked like a man who'd accepted being beaten down by the world.
"Thanks." Leroy took a couple of long swallows of the water, then put down the glass and looked at Daisy. He opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but then he picked up his spoon again and looked down into the bowl.
"You're welcome," Daisy said, giving up for now. She went along the counter and refilled everyone's water, whether they needed it or not. Anything to get away from Will and his deliberate attempts to embarrass her. "Have you all bought raffle tickets?"
"I haven't," Will called. "What's the prize?"
Charlie swiveled to look over at him. "Hey there, Billy. You could win one of the ladies' quilts or an oil change and two new tires at the garage. Take your pick."
"Sounds good," he said, pulling his wallet out. "Where do I buy a ticket?"
Daisy pointed to the other side of the room. "Over there. Where's the baby?"
"I hired a baby-sitter." He looked at Leroy. "How many kids do you have now, Doyle?"
Leroy looked surprised that Will would talk to him. "Three," he said, turning back to his chili.
"Interesting guy," Will said in a low voice only Daisy could hear.
"Go away," she whispered. "I'm working."
Will raised his voice enough to be heard in the next county. "I'll be back," he said. "But I sure hope I win that quilt. You know how short of blankets I am."
He winked, then to Daisy's relief turned around and waded into the crowd. The chili supper was definitely a success, she realized. And everyone looked as if they were having a good time. Most folks had stayed long after they'd eaten supper because the high-school cheerleaders were selling brownies and cookies for dessert and the Booster Club wouldn't pick the prizewinning tickets until seven-thirty. And then the votes would be counted and the winning chili chef would be announced. Barlow was sure he was going to win. Every time Daisy looked his way, he made a V-for-victory sign.
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