may be more relaxed now. Babies can sense when someone is tense, I think.”
“Yeah, well, I was tense, all right, and so was she,” David admitted.
They left the Royal Diner and drove back to the store, where Marissa made selections. David bought far more than she thought was necessary, but he insisted that he didn’t want to have to come back and do this again. As soon as they finished making selections he arranged to have everything delivered to his house.
Outside in the parking lot, she turned to face him. “I’ll go home and pack. Would you like to come meet my grandmother?”
“I’d like to and I will sometime soon. I don’t want her to worry about your new job, but I have a meeting at noon and we shopped longer than I thought we would.”
“That’s because you almost bought out the store. Well, I’ll be at your ranch at four o’clock.”
He looked into her eyes, and he wondered if she had ever told a lie in her life. She didn’t look as if she possibly could. Idly, he wondered how Grandma Wilder dressed. She couldn’t be one degree more eccentric than her granddaughter. What was the house like? Visions of a gingerbread house danced in his mind.
“Okay, Marissa. See you at four. And thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, giving him one of her big smiles. She turned and walked away, pigtails bobbing and her full skirt and petticoat flouncing with each step. She wore some kind of striped stockings and what looked like pink ballet slippers, and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see her start skipping to her car. Before he climbed into his vehicle, he glanced over his shoulder again and saw her behind the wheel of a very ordinary-looking four-door sedan.
“Well, little Autumn, you have a nanny now. One I think you like and whom I certainly like,” David told the sleeping infant. “Tonight ought to be livable. Now, just keep sleeping, please. I have to go to the club to meet the guys, and babies aren’t usually allowed in the clubhouse. You sleep through that and I’ll buy you a rocking chair on the way home.”
In minutes David parked in the Texas Cattleman’s Club lot. The simple exterior of the clubhouse belied the elegant interior. With the carrier in hand, David entered the sprawling clubhouse, which was built in 1910 by Henry “Tex” Langley.
David strode through the familiar foyer, where walnut paneling was lined with oil paintings of past members. He continued through a lounge that held crystal brandy decanter sets, leather chairs, mounted animal heads and cases of valuable antique guns.
He finally entered a smaller room, reserved for their meeting. He was the first to arrive and settled down in a maroon leather chair, placing Autumn and her carrier on a chair next to him. Sunlight spilled through the long windows across the lush oriental carpet and over the pool table that stood on one side of the room. Along the opposite wall was a credenza holding another crystal brandy decanter set. A waiter quietly entered the room.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said, smiling at David. “Ah, and how’s the little one?”
“She’s fine at the moment, Jimmy.”
“Can I bring you something to drink?”
“You might as well bring us some coffee and probably some pop.”
“Fine. Anything else? Lunch?”
“Not for me. You can ask the others when they get here.”
“Fine,” the tall, graying man said, and left the room. No sooner had he disappeared through the door than Alex Kent came striding in. One look in his green eyes and David knew that Alex was bringing bad news.
Three
They shook hands, and Alex’s solemn look disappeared as he eyed David. “Good grief, man! What happened to you?”
David rubbed his whiskered jaw. “I didn’t have time to shave.”
“Yeah, so I see. Try buttoning your shirt right, too.”
“Oh, hell,” David mumbled, looking down at himself. “I just grabbed something to put on.”
“Rough night, huh? Did you have someone over and party after the wee one went to sleep?”
“Alex, you’re pushing your luck now. Hell, no, I didn’t party. I was up all night with her.”
Alex leaned over the sleeping baby. “She’s quiet enough now. I find it hard to believe that this little doll kept you up through the night.”
“You want to trade jobs?”
Alex grinned. “Nope.” He touched the baby’s arm lightly. “She’s a cute little thing.”
“Yeah, well, it was a hellacious night. And don’t you wake her,” David snapped.
Alex grinned, turning to look at David. “Good thing it was you. I don’t have a clue about kids.”
“You think I know anything about them?” David demanded. “I just hired a nanny. Have you heard anything about the mother?”
“No, I haven’t. Here’s our man now.”
Wearing the same clothes he had worn the night before and needing a shave, Clint strode into the room and shook hands with his friends. The waiter returned, bringing drinks and snacks, taking sandwich orders and then leaving.
With a long, purposeful stride, Ryan Evans entered and greeted them, and David shook hands with his quiet friend who, at thirty-two, was a few years younger than the rest of them. All the men clustered around the baby to look at her.
“I’ve got a nanny,” David announced again for the others.
“You may need her for a while,” Clint said solemnly as the men sat in leather chairs and David sat in a chair by Autumn. Curiosity was in Ryan’s brown eyes. “All right, guys, fill me in. Sorry I missed our usual chilifest.”
“I’ll bet you are,” Alex teased. “Who was she this time?”
Ryan grinned and shrugged. “I had a good time. Now, what happened last night?”
“You missed a lot,” David answered, relating the events starting with the woman’s rush into the Royal Diner the night before. When he finished he asked, “Ryan, you didn’t give this woman a Texas Cattleman’s card, did you?”
“Me? No, I didn’t.”
“Just checking. You get around.”
“I’ve been contacting members,” Alex said, “to see if I can find who might have known her and given her the card. So far, nothing.”
“I saw Manny this morning,” David informed them, “and he told me about being interviewed for television last night.”
“That was inevitable in a town this size,” Ryan said. “Anything unusual happens here and it’s all over town within the hour, much less something happening in the Royal Diner.”
“It’ll
