BILLY AND THE KID

by Kristine Rolofson

  "No. Jane's still pregnant."

  "Then whose baby is it?" the cook demanded. She glanced over her shoulder at the two men, who looked as if they were discussing the fate of the world. "I think it's the cowboy's."

  Barlow, an aging hippie who looked as if he'd done his share of drugs in the sixties, shook his head as if he still couldn't believe his ears. "Billy the Kid with a kid. How about that?"

  * * *

  "There's the answer to my problem," Will said.

  "Daisy McGregor?" Pierce rolled his eyes. "I don't think she's exactly the maternal type."

  "I'm not talking about Daisy. That woman is as mean as my grandmother's old dog," he muttered, watching her pour coffee into two mugs. "I was thinking of Heather, the young one."

  "Thinking of Heather for what?"

  "A baby-sitter. I can't take care of a baby and get that ranch ready to sell at the same time. Hell, I'm still trying to recover from the whole diaper-changing thing."

  "Jane would help, but she can't, not with being two weeks away from having the baby. And the Little Critters day-care center doesn't take kids until they're two."

  Will watched Daisy fuss with the bottle. That little lady could sure fill out a pair of jeans. "What's Little Critters?"

  Pierce shuddered. "If you're determined to keep this baby, you've got a lot to learn. Really, Will, maybe you should think about turning her over to the state, just until you figure out if she's Sarah's or not."

  "I'm not giving Sarah's baby to strangers."

  "And if she isn't Sarah's? What if someone is trying to saddle you with somebody else's kid? God knows you've known enough women that someone could do this, pass this little girl on to you and then show up demanding child support."

  "That's what DNA tests are for, right?" He didn't feel as casual as he let on. His stomach was in knots and he hoped he'd be able to choke down some of Barlow's famous meat loaf. What had seemed like a good idea three hours ago now began to feel downright scary, especially now that the baby was waking up again and making noises. Will couldn't remember when he'd been this scared. Not since he was twelve, anyway. And that was a time he didn't want to spend much time remembering.

  "I need someone to take care of this baby until we can find Sarah."

  "You can't have Heather out to the ranch. Her father would shoot you."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked over at the baby, who opened her eyes and made a small mewing sound. "But I'm sure going to need help."

  "Hire an older, grandmotherly type."

  "Are you kidding? Those old gossips would have a hell of a time talking about this baby, wouldn't they? I'm not going to give them the chance."

  Daisy delivered the coffee and the bottle. "It's warm. I checked it."

  "Thanks."

  She stayed by the table and watched as Will unwrapped the baby's quilt. The little girl started to scream and didn't stop until Will had arranged her in his arms and popped the nipple into her mouth. Daisy slid the coffee cups away from the flailing arm of the baby. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

  Will frowned into a pair of gorgeous blue eyes. "No. Go away."

  "Her head's too low."

  Will looked at Pierce, who nodded, so he lifted the child's head a little higher. Daisy leaned over and took some napkins from the dispenser, which gave Will a nice view of the way her breasts filled out her blue T-shirt. "Here," she said, holding the napkins gently against the baby's chin. "She's going to be dripping wet. Do you have other clothes for her?"

  "Yeah."

  "And more bottles?"

  "Yes. Whoa there." He eased the half-empty bottle out of the baby's mouth. The little stinker glared at him and started to scream. "Hey, honey, you've got to burp." He looked at Pierce. "Right?"

  "Yeah. Pat. Burp." The sheriff pulled his beeper out of his shirt pocket. "Sorry, Will, but I'm being paged." He stood and grabbed his hat and coat. "Call me and let me know what you decide to do with her. You can call Jane, too, if you have questions."

  If he had questions? Will felt the now-familiar panic filling his gut again. "You're not coming back?"

  "I'm not sure. Depends on what's going on." He hesitated as he shrugged into his coat and turned to Daisy. "Is it too late to put a hold on those burgers? I don't know when I'll get back."

  "I'll have them sent over to your house," Daisy assured him.

  "I'll do it," Will said, raising his voice over the screams of the baby. He lowered her into feeding position and stuck the bottle in her mouth.

  "You've got enough to do," Pierce told him, with a quick wave of his hand. Then he smiled at Daisy. "Thanks."

  The annoying waitress stood at the end of the table as if she'd been roped and tied there until the baby sucked down the reminding milk, spat out the nipple, and screamed even louder than she had before.

  Daisy—a ridiculous name for such a humorless woman—cast that blue-eyed gaze in his direction. "Where are they?"

  "Where are who?" No way was he going to tell her that he didn't know where this kid's parents were, though right about now he'd have given a fistful of silver belt buckles to find out.

  "The clothes and the bottles and the formula and the diapers."

  "Oh. In my truck." Sarah's baby had ridden into town snug in her basket on the floor of his truck, though Pierce had pointed out that if he was so damn determined to be a father, he'd need to buy a car seat.

  "Give her to me," the bossy waitress said. "And go get her diapers and clothes. She's probably one of those babies who doesn't like being wet."

  Will opened his mouth to protest, but by that time the kid was out of his arms and into Daisy's. And the little girl stopped screaming. "How'd you do that?"

  "Just get the diapers, cowboy." She rubbed the baby's back. "We'll work on your education later." No fool, Will Rogers Wilson did as he was told.

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  «^»

  Barlow stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Hey, Daize! Your order's up!"

  "For crying out loud, Barlow, can't you see I'm busy here?"

  "But—"

  "Yell like that again," Daisy said, "and you'll be back living in your van."

  The cook wasn't impressed with the threat. "You don't scare me. That van and I understand each other."

  Heather hurried past and slapped another order on the counter. She looked back at Daisy and the baby. "Now I've seen everything."

  "I've held plenty of babies," Daisy muttered, sitting on the stool at the end of the counter. She surveyed the room and noticed four booths had filled. Well, they could wait a few extra minutes. It wouldn't hurt anyone.

  "What a little sweetheart," Mrs. Anderson cooed, pausing on her way to a table to join her friends from church. "Look, Hazel," she said, gesturing to an elderly woman with a cane who was slowly making her way across the room. "Isn't she a little sweetheart?"

  Daisy turned the baby in her arms so the ladies could admire her and the little sweetheart herself turned her wide-eyed gaze on the two gray-haired women. "I think she likes people," Daisy told them.

  "Well, she sure seems to," Maude Anderson agreed. "We need more babies in town. Has Jane Pierce had hers yet?"

  "No. Joe was in here just a few minutes ago and said they were still waiting."

  Heather leaned over the counter. "Speaking of waiting, we have four booths I haven't gotten to yet."

  Daisy ignored the hint. She helped the baby wave bye-bye to Maude and her friend as the ladies joined their friends at one of the center tables that seated six.

  "This is really weird. I'd never have believed one baby could turn you into such a pushover." Heather picked up an armload of plastic-coated menus and hurried past her boss.

  "I could use a refill," said the rancher seated next to Daisy. He pushed his empty coffee mug a couple of inches in Daisy's direction.

  She couldn't help glaring at him. "Can't a woman sit down for a minute?"

  "Uh, no hurry, then." He looked do
wn at the baby. "Is that yours?"

  "No." The door jangled again and Billy, his arms loaded with plastic shopping bags, entered the restaurant. "It's his," she said, gesturing toward the cowboy.

  "His?"

  "Unfortunately." Daisy slipped off the stool and carried the baby to her father, who dropped the bags in front of the booth.

  "All set," he said, brushing snowflakes from his coat. He glanced over at the row of men who had swiveled around on their stools to stare at him. "It's really snowing now," he announced, as if anybody was interested in the weather.

  "Looks like we're gonna get hit pretty hard," one of the men agreed. "How're things out at the ranch?"

  "I'm making progress," Billy said. "It's an old place and it sure needs a lot of work."

  "I hear you," one of the other ranchers said as Billy shrugged off his coat.

  "I think I got everything." He grinned at both of them, and Daisy was struck by the laugh lines that fanned from the corners of his blue eyes. He looked older than she'd originally thought.

  "Billy, how old is this child?"

  "I don't know. Two months, the doc said." He dug into one of the bags and pulled out a sack of disposable diapers. "And call me Will. I'm not rodeoin' anymore. Do you think these are going to be all right?"

  Daisy checked the size. "They should be. Good, you got those nice tabs. Isn't that nice that we don't have to use pins anymore?"

  "I've broken too many fingers to be good with pins," Will agreed, rummaging through another bag. This time he displayed a box of baby wipes. "Joe said these were important."

  "I think you and—what's her name?"

  "I don't know."

  "Oh. So I guess I'd better not ask where her mother is?"

  Will didn't answer, but the look in his eyes let her know she'd hit a nerve. So a woman had left him with the baby. What kind of person could do that? Well, considering Billy's reputation, she supposed he'd been with all kinds of women. Most likely this baby's mother had moved on to another rodeo star.

  "Well, what do you know about this baby?"

  "Look, lady, I know I'm taking care of her until—" He stopped talking and ripped open the top of the plastic bag of diapers.

  "Until?"

  "Never mind."

  Daisy held the baby so that the child's head was nestled against her neck. She'd almost forgotten that warmth, that sweet satisfaction that came from holding a tiny baby in her arms. It was best not to get used to it, though. "Here," Daisy said, handing him the child. "I have to go back to work. Are you sure you know how to change a diaper?"

  "I've done it a couple of times now."

  "Then that makes you an expert," she agreed, looking at the bags of supplies. She couldn't help being impressed. At least the cowboy was willing to part with some money on behalf of this baby. "Did Joe help you buy all this?"

  "Yeah. Uh, Daisy, where do I do it?"

  "Lay her down on the bench and change her there. She's just wet, that's all."

  "I hope." His voice was grim as he lay the baby down. "At least she's not screaming at me anymore."

  Daisy took a step backward. Barlow was yelling for her again and customers were calling Heather. "When you're done, bring her to me and I'll hold her while you wash up. Your dinner's ready when you are." She shouldn't feel sympathy for him. After all, he'd gotten himself into this mess. He'd had his fun and a child had been conceived. Daisy turned her back on the cowboy and vowed to mind her own business from now on.

  She'd already made enough mistakes with men in her life. And if she had a dollar for every dirty diaper she'd changed, well, she wouldn't be running a restaurant seven days a week.

  "I'm coming," she scolded over the noisy conversations around her. Barlow gave her a thumbs-up sign and turned back to the grill. She was going to start taking some time off, she promised herself. Just as soon as she figured out if she was making any money or not.

  * * *

  The waitress, Daisy Something, was right. The baby needed a name. He couldn't keep thinking of her as "Sarah's baby." The screaming child with the big blue eyes spurting tears like a spring waterfall needed a name. Even Daisy, a woman with no kids and a skillet for a heart, recognized that much. Will gave up frying to eat his meatloaf. He had no stomach for food, anyway. How could he, when Sarah was out there somewhere? And once again, he couldn't find her. He wondered if that was why the baby was putting up such a fuss. Did babies know when their mothers weren't around?

  "You need help," Daisy said, sliding into the seat across from him. She plopped two large paper bags on the table.

  "I think you've said that before." He lifted the baby across the table and into Daisy's outstretched arms. "How do you know so much about kids?" She patted the baby softly on the back and ignored the question. "I think your little girl is tired. She needs her bed and a quiet room. I guess it's too much to hope that you have a rocking chair?"

  "I don't even have a bed for her."

  "Fatherhood caught you by surprise, I take it." Will thought of waking up to a baby in a basket on his doorstep. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

  "How are you going to take care of a baby?"

  "You think I can't because I'm a man?"

  "Because you're Billy Wilson, a cowboy with a reputation for running wild. Not exactly the paternal type."

  "Will, remember? And you know this because..."

  "People talk."

  "Yeah, well, the people in this town always have."

  "I guess you keep giving them reasons."

  "Her name is Spring," he decided. Like that dream he'd had this morning, where he'd been counting calves and working in his shirtsleeves.

  "Look, I know I'm being a pain, but don't you have any idea where her mother is?"

  "No. But I'll find her. Soon."

  "And if she doesn't want to be found?"

  "I'll find her," he repeated, knowing that wherever she was, Sarah needed him more than she ever had.

  "Tell you what," Daisy said. "Why don't you take these hamburgers and fries over to the Pierces' house while I cairn down little Spring. She seems to like walking around with me and you look like you could use some air."

  He could use a whiskey, but he'd settle for driving a few blocks in a Montana snow squall. "You sure?"

  "I'm sure. While you're there, look pitiful and act charming and ask Jane if you can borrow something for Spring to sleep in, just for tonight. Tomorrow you can go to North Bend and buy a crib."

  He started to thank her, but she interrupted him. "Don't take all afternoon, either," she said. "I think I'm going to close up early."

  * * *

  "Someone left you a baby?"

  "I know, I know. Joe already did the double take. So did I." Will smiled the smile that Jane knew drove most of the women in town just a little bit crazy. The young ones thought of what luscious possibilities were in store, while the older ones remembered what it was like to be young and all heated up.

  "Sit," Jane ordered, managing to lower herself onto a living-room chair without tipping it over. "Tell me everything."

  "You haven't heard from Joe?" He moved a toy truck out of the way and sat down on the couch.

  "Just a message from the dispatcher. They're up to their ears out on the interstate. A semi loaded with hogs tipped over."

  "I guess the storm was worse than I thought."

  "I don't want to talk about the weather, Will. Tell me about the baby."

  "I can't stay very long. The woman at the café is taking care of her until I get back. You don't mind lending me something for her to sleep in?"

  "I have more stuff than I know what to do with," she assured him. "What woman at the café?"

  "The waitress. Daisy."

  "She owns the place, you know."

  Will shrugged. "Whatever. She knew how to get the baby to stop yelling at me."

  "She did?" The woman didn't seem like the type, though she'd always been nice to the boys when Janie treated them to lunch. "You
said Daisy offered to watch the baby?"

  "Yeah. Why?"

  Jane struggled to lean against the back of Joe's leather recliner. "I don't know. I guess I never pictured her with kids."

  "She had a lot to say about how to take care of babies."

  Janie laughed. "And you prefer the quiet type?" Will fidgeted with his hat. "I'm not looking for a woman."

  "But they're always looking for you," Janie pointed out, pleased to have company on such a miserable Sunday. The boys, settled in the kitchen with their hamburger dinner, were finally worn out from playing in makeshift tents all day. And Jane was grateful for adult company. "Who's the mother?"

  "Who's the father?"

  "Not you?"

  He shook his head. "Not that anyone will believe me."

  "This is true." So there was more to the story, and Will Wilson wasn't going to talk about it.

  "Don't you want to eat?" Clearly her handsome guest was anxious to leave, but Janie wasn't ready to let him go just yet. She didn't want to admit that she hated to be alone right now. These last couple of weeks had crawled by so agonizingly slowly.

  "Not right now. I can only eat a few bites at a time anyway." She looked down at her bulging abdomen. "There's not much room in there for food."

  Will frowned. "Do you think she's all right?"

  "Anyone can take care of a baby for a few—"

  "I mean the baby's mother," he said, swallowing hard as he gazed at Janie. He looked like someone who'd had a hard day, too.

  "I guess there's no way to know that."

  "What would make a woman leave her kid?"

  "I really can't imagine," she answered, wishing she could think of some way to make him feel better. She didn't know him well, but she knew that Joe liked and respected him. Their friendship went back a long way. "But whatever made her leave her baby, at least she left her with someone who would take good care of her."

  Will took a deep breath. "I guess she could have dumped her in a gas-station bathroom or something. You hear those stories on the news."

  "But she didn't."

  "No. She wouldn't do that."

  "Then you know who she is?"

  The infuriating cowboy didn't answer her question. Instead he stood and fidgeted with his hat. "Is there anything I can do before I leave? I could bring some wood in, fix the fire or something."