They waited expectantly.
“And not resistant to your ideas,” he said, relenting.
Chili grinned. “You just leave everything to us.”
Michael nodded and closed the window. “I’m just doing her the same favor I’d do for anyone the King machinery was about to flatten,” he muttered as he started the ignition. “Somebody’s got to save that headstrong little woman from herself!”
Chapter Four
“Now, then,” Chili said, giving Michael’s dark suit a final brush across the shoulders, “you just drive over to the Dixon house and surprise that little gal by picking her and her brood up for church.” The fence-sitters had converged on him with Plan A as he was eating breakfast, before he’d even had time to gulp enough coffee to wake up good.
Michael shook his head. “I don’t know that this is such a good idea. Bailey and I have never gone anywhere together, much less church.” Something about these three advising him to go to church with a woman struck his suspicion nerve very hard. He never went to church. Whatever he had to say to the Lord he said on his property amongst the trees and the stillness. Saying it in front of a bunch of people didn’t mean the Lord’s ears were open any further to him.
But the townsfolks’ ears and eyes would be wide open if he appeared with Bailey Dixon. There were two types of couples who paired up for church—good friends comfortable celebrating the Sabbath with each other, often seen in Fallen’s Baptist church with its social congregation, and those affianced or about to be who attended church to start their marriage out on the right foot. He’d noted the Fallen Methodists tended to do a lot of that.
He was neither Baptist nor Methodist, nor much of anything that required a commitment. And he wasn’t friends with Bailey, nor trying to start a relationship with her aligned on the straight and narrow path. It was too late for that, he supposed.
He’d have to go to the Catholic church with Bailey, and that was enough to make him nervous. Bailey and her six siblings—thankfully she had felt condoms were necessary for the relationship they’d shared. The Rodeo Queen had been right about one thing—the Dixon family was like a very full cup, which runneth over and spilled down the table leg and flooded a good-size room. He wondered if there was a sermon in that.
He just hoped five-year-old Baby didn’t bring her lamb to church. Surely Bailey made her leave her pet at home. Sheep turds in the nice Lincoln town car his father had owned were likely to turn his stomach this early in the morning.
“Michael, I know you’re not eager about this,” Fred said, carefully standing off the toes that still pained him from last night’s putting debacle. “This is the only day you have before Bailey starts work for Gunner, so it’s an opportune time to make your move and make yourself look good. Bailey’s going to drag those young ’uns to church, and you just think about them shivering in that rattletrap metal truck bed she totes that family around in when they could be warm in your car with its heater and cushioned seats. The inch of snow we had last night isn’t going to stop Bailey from seeing those kids get proper churchin’.”
Michael sighed, and it was an unwilling sound of resignation. “Couldn’t I just drop them off and pick them up?”
“No!” Curly stated emphatically. “You know, Michael, it’s not going to kill you to spend an hour with the top of your head being reviewed by the Lord.”
“Why aren’t you going, then?” Michael demanded.
“We ain’t in the trouble with Bailey that you are.” Chili crossed his arms. “You’re the one who wants to save her from herself. Taking her to church is the best way I can think of to start the process—and you get the jump on Gunner. She may start work for him tomorrow, but she’ll have been to church with you today.”
It might not be the proper thought, but he’d much rather Bailey be in bed with him tonight. Still, he couldn’t say that to the cowboys—they were in their fatherly capacity, which they’d adopted as of last night’s agreement to save Bailey.
“Guess I wouldn’t want those kids to freeze to death.” He jammed on a black felt hat, which matched his formal suit, clothes he hadn’t worn since his father’s funeral. He felt stiff and out of place in these duds, and the sensation was sure to increase in the next few moments.
He warmed up the car, then backed down the driveway and headed to Bailey’s. Leaving the roomy car running, he strode up the bent-in-the-middle porch and stabbed the doorbell impatiently.
Baby opened the door, her little lamb at her side. Michael held back an inward groan. “Where’s Bailey, Baby?”
“Upstairs.” Baby put her finger in her mouth, which Michael thought couldn’t be all that sanitary considering the beast beside her. But she was dressed for church, just as the cowboys had predicted.
Brad appeared in a suit that was frayed at the cuffs and shoes that were wafer-thin in the sole. Michael felt slightly ashamed of his dude’s suit he’d just been thinking ill thoughts over. It was nicer than anything anyone in this house owned, and it didn’t matter that he felt like the Grim Reaper in it. He should be more appreciative of what he was able to buy. This family was up to their eyeballs in trying to pay off the tax man.
“Come in, Michael. How can we help you?” Brad asked.
That gave Michael a start. How can they help me—and then he realized that it was always his family or the cowboys who went to the Dixon house for one thing or another. Not once had they come to the wealthy Wade holding for assistance of any kind. The thought was humbling, and slightly embarrassing. “I thought to offer your family a ride to church,” he said gruffly.
“You don’t go to our church.” Brad looked at Michael curiously.
“Won’t hurt me to go once to any church.” Michael instinctively stiffened as four more children grouped around him, all dressed in hand-me-down clothing. “Got the car warming. What do you say?”
“It’s up to Bailey.” Brad shifted the burden of decision-making to his sister, jerking his head toward the stairs. “I’ll ask her.”
Bailey appeared at the top of the stairs at that moment. “Michael? I thought I heard your voice.”
She walked down, and he felt more nervous than he had at his first high school dance. She was plainly startled to see him, and her blond brows arched over large blue eyes. The tiny freckles he thought so sassy lightly sprinkled her nose. And that glorious hair he loved fell shiny and bright as new gold to her waist, without a hint of curl in it.
She was so sexy she made his knees feel like they might start knocking together. He tried to smile, but his hands were trembling and he was afraid she’d notice, so the smile slipped away. Having never asked Bailey to go anywhere with him, this was one tough assignment the cowboys had sent him on.
“Thought I’d take your crew to church. It’s mighty cold outside.”
“You needn’t have worried about us.” She looked at him steadily, a light scent of soap carrying from her skin. “We’ll manage.”
So true to this stubborn woman’s nature not to accept anything from anyone. How had Gunner managed with such ease? By not stepping on her pride. He cleared his throat. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to church,” he said softly, his eyes on hers. “Wouldn’t mind sitting with friends.”
She smiled, happiness crinkling the corners of her eyes and lifting the sides of her beautiful lips. “Well, if you can handle sitting in church with my crowd, then we’ll be happy to accept your offer.”
He nodded, but his insides were singing with joy. Gunner didn’t have anything on him for slick and burr sticky! He’d get it all figured out soon enough; practice made perfect, and he might even start to enjoy his new role as Bailey’s