Beneath the Stetson. Janice Maynard

refills and the server’s chatter, the moment passed.

      Bailey had looked forward to an intimate lunch with the two Addison men, but unfortunately, this was not the venue. Gil could barely eat his meal because of repeated interruptions from club members happy to see him. What Bailey suddenly understood was that Gil had sacrificed an enormous amount in choosing intentionally to be the caregiver for his son.

      Over the course of almost five years, Gil was wealthy enough to have hired the best nannies in the world. He could have gone about his business, running the ranch, hanging out at the TCC, meeting women, perhaps marrying again. Instead, he had made his son a priority. Fortunately, his current role as TCC president was more of an honorary position than a demanding job.

      The enthusiasm with which club members greeted him during one short lunch indicated both that Gil was extremely popular and well-liked, and that he likely was not able to be present at the club as often as many of his cohorts.

      Cade bore the intrusion of one table guest after another with equanimity. Several of the men addressed him personally. For a child not yet old enough for school, his composure and patience were commendable.

      Not many boys of Bailey’s acquaintance would be able to tolerate an extended meal in public without raising a ruckus. She sneaked him a couple of extra French fries off her plate while Gil was otherwise occupied. “Is it always like this?” she asked.

      Cade nodded. “Yep. Everybody likes my dad.” The words were matter-of-fact, but Bailey heard the pride behind them.

      “So,” she whispered conspiratorially, “do you think we get dessert?”

      Cade wrinkled his nose. “If I eat most of my salad.” He stared dolefully at the small bowl, clearly not a fan of spinach mix.

      “I remember once when I was about your age, my mother made me eat black-eyed peas that I didn’t like. I broke out in a rash all over my whole body, and I never had to eat them again.”

      “Can you teach me how to do that?” Cade’s eyes widened with fascination.

      “Unfortunately, I think the rash happened because I was so upset. But you could always try using a red marker to put dots all over your skin. I’m kidding,” she said hastily, suddenly visualizing an awful scenario where Gil realized Bailey had been giving his son tips on how to bypass healthy eating.

      “I know that.” Cade rolled his eyes. “You’re funny, Miss Bailey.”

      Bailey had been called a lot of things in her life...responsible, hardworking, dedicated. But no one had ever called her funny. She kind of liked it. And she very much liked Gil’s precious son.

      Gil stood and touched Bailey’s shoulder. “If you two would excuse me for a few moments, I need to speak to a gentleman at that table in the corner. I won’t be long, I promise.”

      “Your food will get cold,” Cade said.

      “I bet the chef will warm it up for me. Love you, son. Back in a minute.” Gil kissed the top of Cade’s head and strode away.