by Daina Palmer
"It's the company I'm keeping," she murmured. ''And we have a problem.''
"You're pregnant?" he asked hopefully.
"That isn't a problem, and I may be but I don't know yet," she said. "I mean, we're married, but I don't have a wedding ring."
He grinned and pulled a box out of his jeans pocket. "Don't you?"
He held it out and she opened it, producing a beautiful set of rings—one with a big diamond, the other a gold band with inlaid diamonds that matched it.
"It's lovely," she said huskily. "But where's yours?" She glared at him. "You're wearing a ring, Connal Cade
Tremayne. I won't have every lonely spinster in south Texas trying to trespass on my preserves!''
"Well, well," he murmured dryly. "Okay. We'll go into town and buy me one."
The front door slammed and her father came walking into the dining room, stopping suddenly. "My God!" he wailed.
"You noticed my rings, did you?" Pepi grinned.
'"Tell him that we're moving into the vacant house this afternoon, that'll unfreeze him," Connal dared.
"We are," she told her father. She frowned. "What's the matter with you? Aren't you happy that our mar-, riage is going to work out and Connal and I are going to live together and you're going to have grandchildren at last? Aren't you happy about all that?"
"Of course I am, Pepi," he groaned. "It's just. . ."
"Just?" Connal prompted.
"Just?" Pepi seconded.
"Damn it," he raged, slamming his hat down. "You've eaten my apple pie!"
Several weeks later, Pepi made him a present of three freshly baked pies and the news that he was going to become a grandfather. She told Connai afterward that she wasn't sure which of her presents made him smile the widest.
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