Lake City, she’d gone shopping for underwear—red, feminine underwear. She’d smoked her first and only cigarette. She’d even marched into the airport bar and ordered a Scotch and water. Then she’d flown home through the beginning of a storm and crashed the plane. Worse than that, she had more than a vague recollection that she’d made a fool out of herself with Cade. How could she ever face him?
“Hi. Are you going to be my new mommy?”
Rusty followed the sound of the voice until she found its source—a child, a dark-eyed child with masses of jet-black curly hair and a mouth that seemed to ask a permanent question.
“What?”
Rusty knew what the child had said. At least she thought she did. It was just that she and Cade had agreed that his daughter wouldn’t know about their plans. He didn’t want Pixie disappointed, he’d said.
“You look like Glenda, the good witch,” Pixie said solemnly. “I like Glenda. I like Dorothy too. Do you?”
“Oz! That’s where I am,” Rusty declared. “I took off from the Salt Lake City airport and landed, not in Kansas, but Oz. All I need is—”
“Pixie? Are you in here?”
“—the Scarecrow.”
The man sticking his long neck through the door qualified in every sense of the word. All he needed were strands of hay sticking out from beneath his neckline and his hat.
“Oh no,” Pixie said, climbing up on the side of Rusty’s bed. “That’s not the Scarecrow, that’s Eugene. He’s my friend. He’s probably brought you some Tundra Tonic. He makes it, you know, and it’s very good for what ails you.”
Rusty closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the door was wide open, and Letty was standing there, glaring at both the child and the odd-looking man. “And I’m the wicked Witch of the West,” she said with a snort. “If you two don’t get down to breakfast, I’m going to put a spell on you.”
Pixie giggled and slid down from the bed. She started toward the door, ran back, and gave Rusty a quick kiss on her cheek. “I think I’m going to like living in Oz. Thank you for hiring my daddy.”
“Pixie,” Rusty called out, pushing herself to a sitting position. “Who told you that I was going to be your mommy?”
“Oh, I heard Mr. Doak and another man down at the barn talking when I went down to see the bull. I like Pretty Boy too. He’s nice. He got very mad when my daddy made me leave.”
“So much for secrets,” Letty observed with an I-told-you-so click of her teeth as Pixie danced out the door. “Though I don’t know why I should expect the hands to keep their mouths shut when you two are up here in the shower taking off each other’s clothes as openly as a bare-bottomed lady at the Coyote Springs Saloon.”
“Then it’s true? Cade did carry me up here and—and put me in the shower?”
“Who knows? When I came in, you were both in the stall, and you were tearing at his clothes. It was not exactly—” Letty sighed dramatically—“ladylike behavior. Though if I were twenty-five years younger, I might wrestle you for him.”
Rusty threw her feet over the side of the bed and stood up. It was obvious that Cade had been right. She’d suffered a mild case of shock that had made her behave … strangely. Surely Cade understood that, even if Letty was having great fun with what had happened.
“Letty,” she began, “I thought that I explained to you what my plans for Mr. McCall are. He’s on a trial basis here. If at the end of six months I am—” she blushed, and forced herself to go on, “pregnant, we will get married.”
“Humph! Trial for what?”
Rusty swayed for a moment, feeling an unexpected light-headedness. Shock might have been a reasonable excuse for her behavior last night, but even she had difficulty making any such claims this morning. She squared her shoulders, glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Ten o’clock! Why didn’t you call me earlier?”
“Well, after all the excitement, Cade said
“Hi. Are you going to be my new mommy?”
Rusty followed the sound of the voice until she found its source—a child, a dark-eyed child with masses of jet-black curly hair and a mouth that seemed to ask a permanent question.
“What?”
Rusty knew what the child had said. At least she thought she did. It was just that she and Cade had agreed that his daughter wouldn’t know about their plans. He didn’t want Pixie disappointed, he’d said.
“You look like Glenda, the good witch,” Pixie said solemnly. “I like Glenda. I like Dorothy too. Do you?”
“Oz! That’s where I am,” Rusty declared. “I took off from the Salt Lake City airport and landed, not in Kansas, but Oz. All I need is—”
“Pixie? Are you in here?”
“—the Scarecrow.”
The man sticking his long neck through the door qualified in every sense of the word. All he needed were strands of hay sticking out from beneath his neckline and his hat.
“Oh no,” Pixie said, climbing up on the side of Rusty’s bed. “That’s not the Scarecrow, that’s Eugene. He’s my friend. He’s probably brought you some Tundra Tonic. He makes it, you know, and it’s very good for what ails you.”
Rusty closed her eyes.
When she opened them, the door was wide open, and Letty was standing there, glaring at both the child and the odd-looking man. “And I’m the wicked Witch of the West,” she said with a snort. “If you two don’t get down to breakfast, I’m going to put a spell on you.”
Pixie giggled and slid down from the bed. She started toward the door, ran back, and gave Rusty a quick kiss on her cheek. “I think I’m going to like living in Oz. Thank you for hiring my daddy.”
“Pixie,” Rusty called out, pushing herself to a sitting position. “Who told you that I was going to be your mommy?”
“Oh, I heard Mr. Doak and another man down at the barn talking when I went down to see the bull. I like Pretty Boy too. He’s nice. He got very mad when my daddy made me leave.”
“So much for secrets,” Letty observed with an I-told-you-so click of her teeth as Pixie danced out the door. “Though I don’t know why I should expect the hands to keep their mouths shut when you two are up here in the shower taking off each other’s clothes as openly as a bare-bottomed lady at the Coyote Springs Saloon.”
“Then it’s true? Cade did carry me up here and—and put me in the shower?”
“Who knows? When I came in, you were both in the stall, and you were tearing at his clothes. It was not exactly—” Letty sighed dramatically—“ladylike behavior. Though if I were twenty-five years younger, I might wrestle you for him.”
Rusty threw her feet over the side of the bed and stood up. It was obvious that Cade had been right. She’d suffered a mild case of shock that had made her behave … strangely. Surely Cade understood that, even if Letty was having great fun with what had happened.
“Letty,” she began, “I thought that I explained to you what my plans for Mr. McCall are. He’s on a trial basis here. If at the end of six months I am—” she blushed, and forced herself to go on, “pregnant, we will get married.”
“Humph! Trial for what?”
Rusty swayed for a moment, feeling an unexpected light-headedness. Shock might have been a reasonable excuse for her behavior last night, but even she had difficulty making any such claims this morning. She squared her shoulders, glanced at the clock on her nightstand. “Ten o’clock! Why didn’t you call me earlier?”
“Well, after all the excitement, Cade said
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