Grateful for the reprieve, Katie rolled over on her side and stared at the square patch of sky he’d revealed. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the horizon a delicate pinkish-orange. Booker had said she’d get up today—for her baby—but he didn’t understand. She couldn’t get up for anything.
Booker’s truck started outside.
Tomorrow, she promised herself as he drove away. She’d get up for her baby tomorrow. Surely she’d feel better by then.
“THAT OLD CADILLAC’S RUNNING, but I can’t promise how long it’s going to last,” Chase said, standing in the doorway of Booker’s office.
Booker glanced up from his cluttered desk to acknowledge his mechanic’s words. Chase was only nineteen, but he had a real talent with engines. “It’s old. There’s nothing we can do about that.”
“You wanted the keys?”
“Yeah.”
Chase tossed them over. Booker caught them and slid them in his pocket. The Cadillac might be running, but Katie wouldn’t be driving it anywhere if he couldn’t get her out of bed.
“Go ahead and start the tune-up of Lila Bronwyn’s Jeep,” he told Chase. Then he turned down the radio they had blasting and tried to reach Katie. He let the phone ring nearly twenty times, hung up and called again. But she wouldn’t pick up.
“Answer, damn it,” he muttered, losing patience.
“What’s wrong?” Delbert wiped his grease-covered hands on a rag as he and Bruiser came into the office. “Are you mad? Are you mad at me, Booker?”
“I’m not mad,” Booker said, but he was getting worried. What was he going to do with Katie? She’d completely withdrawn from life. She wasn’t getting up. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t doing anything.
He thought of her parents. Should he have told them that she couldn’t work? Would it have made a difference?
He certainly wasn’t the best person to handle this, but remembering how Tami had treated Katie at the door, how both her parents had reacted to him at the donut shop, quickly convinced him that they were part of the problem, not the solution. And it wasn’t as if he saw anyone else stepping up to help her…. She’d been gone too long and apparently hadn’t kept up with relationships. Which meant, crazy as it seemed, he was the closest thing she had to a friend.
Mike Hill’s new Escalade cruised by out front, catching Booker’s eye. Watching Mike turn on First Avenue, he thought of all the times he’d heard, from almost everyone in town, that Katie had had a crush on Mike nearly her whole life. She’d once told him herself, flat out, that she wanted to marry Mike Hill someday. But Booker hadn’t taken her too seriously. He’d never seen Mike show any interest in her, couldn’t imagine them together. They were both…good. In his opinion, they each needed a counterbalance.
But Mike was rich and dependable. Maybe the best thing Booker could do for Katie and her baby was to throw them into Mike’s lap. A friend would do something like that, right?
Picking up the phone, he called Rebecca at the salon.
“Hello?”
“Is Rebecca there?”
“Hi, Booker.”
From the voice, it was Ashleigh Evans. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Where’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”
They’d danced last Friday at the Honky Tonk, but Booker knew if he pointed that out, she’d just say Friday seemed too long ago. “I’ve been busy.”
“You promised me a ride on your bike, remember?”
How could he forget? She reminded him whenever he talked to her. “I’ll stop by the salon sometime.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
The phone changed hands and he heard Rebecca’s voice. “I think she has a thing for you.”
“Ashleigh?”
“Yeah.”
Booker already knew that. She’d been coming on to him ever since she’d broken up with that bull rider from Boise. She’d even invited him to her place last Friday night, but his response had been decidedly lukewarm. “I need a favor,” he said.
“Really? Wow! You’ve never asked me for anything before,” Rebecca said. “You must be desperate.”
He ignored her teasing because it hit a little too close to home. He didn’t like asking for favors. He didn’t like needing anything. But this wasn’t for him—exactly. “Katie’s looking for a job.”
“I heard she’s pregnant.”
Booker braced himself for her reaction. “That’s true.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice filled with accusation.
“I figured you’d find out soon enough.”
She released a long sigh. “Some people have all the luck.”
Booker pictured how rumpled and dispirited Katie had been sitting up in her bed last night and doubted she was feeling very lucky. “I’m sure Katie would be surprised to hear you say that.”
“I’d do anything to have a baby, Booker. Especially Josh’s baby. Sometimes I love him so much I can’t even breathe, and yet I can’t give him the one thing we both want most in the world.”
Bill Peterson arrived to pick up his Camaro. Booker could hear Chase talking to him in the garage, and started searching his desk for the work order. “You’re too tense about it, Rebecca.”
“But I’m nearly thirty-three.”
“A lot of women have babies at thirty-three.”
“And everyone else is having one.”
“Everyone?”
“Delaney’s pregnant again.”
“She is?”
“She’s been holding off telling me, hoping I’d get some good news, too. But she’s gaining weight, and I guessed.”
“You’ll just have to keep trying,” Booker said. “I’m sure Josh doesn’t mind that.”
“No, he likes all the trying. He just doesn’t like how upset I get when it doesn’t work out.”
“It’s that watched-pot thing. You need to forget about it, and then it’ll probably happen.” Finding the paperwork he was looking for, Booker waved to let Mr. Peterson know he’d be right out.
“I don’t think it’s the watched-pot thing. I’m going to start taking fertility drugs,” Rebecca said.
“Do whatever works, Beck.”
“A lot of people have fertility problems.”
Fortunately Chase came in and took the paperwork out to get Bill on his way.
“I know.” Booker cleared his throat. “About that job…”
“I already offered Katie a job,” she said. “She came by here a couple of days ago. But she told me she can’t be on her feet.”
“I wasn’t thinking of having her work at Hair and Now.”
“Where, then?”
“What about the resort?”
“It’s wintertime, Booker. The resort’s overstaffed as it is because Conner and Delaney won’t lay anyone off. They’re trying to limp