Protecting Their Baby. Sheri WhiteFeather
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it was; they’d always stuck together.
Hannah came closer, her attention focused on Jamie. “Hello. My name is Hannah. Who are you?”
“Jamie. I’m four.” He held up all five of his fingers.
She tucked his thumb down, then touched the remaining fingers one by one. “This many is four. One, two, three, four. See?”
He regarded his hand for a solemn second. In fact, he was entirely too solemn and grave for a child his age, something that could be blamed on his flighty mother. Ross’s mouth tightened with determination; Jamie deserved to have Hannah as his mother, and that’s exactly what his son was going to get.
“Okay,” Jamie agreed. “Can I have some ice cream?”
“May I,” Ross corrected.
Jamie sighed heavily. “Okay. Can Papa have some, too?”
An exasperated expression crossed his father’s face, but Hannah smiled. After raising six brothers, she could handle little boys. A sense of humor helped, along with a huge tolerance for noise and cheerful chaos.
“Of course he can have some ice cream. I know your papa likes strawberry the best, but what’s your favorite?”
“V’nilla.” Jamie leaned forward and held out his arms. With an ease born of long practice, Hannah shifted the youngster onto her hip.
“I need to talk to you, Hannah,” said Ross, following them to a corner table. “It’s important.”
For some reason her stomach fluttered, though she couldn’t imagine why. They’d talked about everything when they were kids; why should it be different now? The fact that Ross had turned into a heart-stopping hunk didn’t mean anything.
And don’t forget Jamie.
Right.
Little boys had mothers, which meant there was a good chance Ross was married. So it would be silly to be attracted to an old friend, and even sillier to imagine he was attracted to her. It was just this wedding stuff, getting her stirred up and confused. Just the same, it would be nice to have someone really want her.
“Hannah?”
“Uhh…all right. Except I’d better get that ice cream first. Isn’t that right, Jamie? A nice big bowl.”
Jamie’s eyes brightened. “V’nilla.”
“And strawberry for your papa. We’ll be right back, Ross.”
Ross sat back and watched Hannah disappear into the restaurant kitchen with his son. “I heard Deke is working on a fishing boat,” he called. “He’s the youngest, isn’t he?”
“Yes.” Her voice was muffled. “He took off a couple of months ago to earn money for college. Deke is just like you. He couldn’t wait to get away.”
Ross shifted in the old ladder-back chair. Yeah, he’d been anxious to leave Quicksilver. It was a dusty little town, forgotten by the modern world and lumbering toward extinction. The principal entertainments were hunting, drinking and watching moss grow on trees.
On the other hand, Hannah had never seemed to mind living in Quicksilver. She’d listened patiently when he talked about escaping, but her family was the center of her world, not exotic travel and different places. And he had to admit, if he’d been part of the Liggett clan he might have felt the same. They weren’t perfect, but they were nice people.
“Here we go,” Hannah said a moment later. She held a tray in one hand and led Jamie with the other.
“Thanks.” Ross settled his son on his lap and tucked a napkin under his chin. It was awkward. Jamie had only been living with him for a few weeks and they were still adjusting to each other.
Just then the sound of excited, happy people floated into the restaurant and Hannah grinned. “That’s the wedding party coming over from the church.”
“I couldn’t believe it when your dad said Ten Penny was getting married.”
She gave him a strange look. “When did you talk to my father?”
“A few days ago.”
Hannah straightened, still watching Ross with a question in her eyes. She didn’t like hearing that he’d talked to her dad, especially since her father had been walking around all week like a cat who’d stolen the cream. Anyway, if Ross had something to talk to her about, why wouldn’t he call her directly?
“Danged if this isn’t something,” cried Ten Penny as she tottered through the door. “I’m finally a missus!” Everyone else was dressed in the usual jeans and shirts, but Ten Penny wore a purple feather boa around her neck and a beaded dress of unknown vintage.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Dobkins,” Hannah said, giving Ten Penny a hug. “You look beautiful.” And she meant it. Maybe Ten Penny had a few wrinkles and a questionable reputation in the murky past, but none of that mattered today. She was beautiful…a survivor, a monument to stubborn determination in the face of great odds.
“You sure made it all look purty in here,” said Ten Penny. “All them flowers and ribbons and such. It’s a real weddin’ party. Thanks, darlin’.”
“I enjoyed doing it,” Hannah assured her. “Now go sit down and have a good time.”
The combination bar and restaurant wasn’t very big, and with half the town crowded inside, the noise level skyrocketed. In the distant past Ten Penny had heard about “petit fours” and “little sandwiches without crusts,” so she’d asked Hannah to make some of those “fancy goo-gaws” for her big day. Fortunately Hannah had also made red-hot chili and several sheet cakes—Quicksilver wasn’t ready for finger food.
When she got the chance, Hannah pulled her father to one side. “What’s going on with Ross McCoy? You never said anything about talking to him.”
“Oh? You know he calls the bar every now and then—more before his pa died, of course. The McCoys never had a phone. He always asks about you, too.”
Hannah ignored the pleasure her father’s last statement gave her. “Yes, but why is he here?”
“You’ll have to ask Ross. My, that chocolate cake looks good. I’d better get over there before it’s all gone.”
“Wily old fox,” Hannah muttered.
“Whatever you say, dear. By the way, did I mention Ross is divorced?”
With that last remark, Edgar Liggett made a beeline for the food table, leaving Hannah with narrowed eyes and a tapping foot. She loved her father, but he had an annoying ability to duck out of uncomfortable situations.
And what did he mean about Ross being divorced? With Edgar it could be anything from idle conversation to a suggestion she seduce the guy. Hannah froze at the thought, then shook her head. The idea had a certain appeal, but she didn’t have any skills in the seduction department and she wouldn’t want to hurt her friendship with Ross, anyway. It was funny, but even after all these years, she still considered him her best friend. If her life had gone a little differently, they might have kept in touch. He’d done better than she had—at least he’d written her a few letters.
As for what Ross wanted…she didn’t know what to think. He sat in the corner, calmly eating ice cream with his son and chatting with the partygoers as though he’d never left Quicksilver. Feeling foolish, Hannah headed over to his table on the pretext of bringing Jamie a glass of milk.
“Thanks.” Ross smiled and motioned to the chair next to him. “Can you take a break?”
“Sure. You wanted to talk, didn’t you?”
“Yeah.” He pushed the last of his ice cream away. “I understand you never got married.”
“Thanks, rub it in,” Hannah muttered.
He