Flirting with Fireworks. Teresa Carpenter

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style="font-size:15px;">      The expectant mama, Tammy, received a rush of attention. The crying baby plucked from her arms, she was helped into a seat, her feet lifted.

      The toddler calmed down under the immediate barrage of attentiveness, but after being passed from woman to woman his mood began to suffer.

      Cherry’s heart went out to little Jimmy. Within the troupe, she was known to have a talent for healing, for having a special touch with babies.

      Some day she hoped to have a career as a midwife. She hadn’t spoken of that particular dream in a while. It upset Nona to think Cherry hesitated because of her. In truth Nona was only part of the problem. Cowardice accounted for the other part.

      Cherry preferred not to dwell on either.

      She longed to cuddle Jimmy, to ease his distress, but felt that would be pressing her luck.

      He had other ideas. He looked at Cherry from the lap of her neighbor, his brown eyes dewy with tears. She smiled at him, and he slid down to stand in front of Cherry.

      “Hello, Jimmy.” He had fine blond hair and couldn’t be more than eighteen months old. She leaned forward. “My name is Cherry.”

      He tugged a lock of her hair. “Pretty.”

      “Thank you.” She carefully removed her hair from his chubby little fist.

      “Up.” Jimmy held his arms up.

      Cherry’s heart melted. She met his mother’s gaze. “May I?” she asked. “I’m good with kids, and I’d like to help.”

      Tammy studied her for a moment, then nodded.

      Smiling gently, Cherry lifted the boy into her lap. He immediately went exploring. He pulled her earrings, fiddled with her watch and the crystals in her bracelet. She did enjoy her baubles.

      Eventually, he laid his head on her shoulder and fell asleep.

      “Poor little tyke, he’s tuckered out.” Wanda Mae started the water in the whirlpool. “Do you want the massage? I recommend level three.” She winked. “We call it the Erogenous Zone.”

      Mmm. Sounded tempting. Her erogenous zones could certainly use some attention. Now why did that bring to mind the dark hair and blue-gray eyes of Jason Strong?

      “I’d better not. It might disturb Jimmy.”

      “Oh, Miss Pandora.” Tammy pushed to her feet. “You need to do the massage. I’ll take Jimmy.” She arched her back.

      She stood close and Cherry felt her tension, her exhaustion, her pain. More, Cherry felt the baby’s readiness to be born. Tomorrow morning, Tammy would be holding her little girl in her arms.

      Tammy reached for Jimmy. “I’m just glad he got a bit of a nap.”

      Cherry waved her away. “He’s fine. Let him sleep. Have a manicure. It’ll be a while before you get another chance.”

      Both Tammy and Wanda Mae gave Cherry odd looks.

      She simply smiled serenely. “Trust me, when it comes to predicting births, I’m never wrong.”

      Not at this anyway. She always knew when an expectant mother would deliver. Even as she appreciated the gift, she recognized the cosmic joke. She’d lost her mother because she’d gone into labor in the middle of nowhere. Cherry had not come easily into the world. By the time they got her mother to Blossom, it was too late to save her.

      Yet her daughter had the talent to make sure the same thing never happened to anyone she knew.

      To Tammy, Cherry said, “You’d better pack your suitcase when you get home because you’re going into the hospital tonight.”

      The announcement shook the rafters. Everyone started talking at once. “Cherry, you need to ante up for the baby pool,” someone suggested.

      “What’s the pool up to?” Cherry didn’t believe in using her talents to gamble, but if she won, the word of mouth would really help her cause.

      “Two hundred twenty-two dollars. It’s two dollars a guess. Tammy knows it’s another boy, so you just need to guess the date, time, weight and height.”

      Another boy? Cherry ruminated on that for a moment, but no, it didn’t feel right.

      Thirty minutes later, Cherry logged in her official guess: tomorrow at 6:58 in the morning, Tammy would give birth to a seven-pound, two-ounce, nineteen-inch baby girl.

      Word spread all over town. The fortune-teller instigated an uprising over at the Cut N Curl. Seems she’d thumbed her nose at modern medicine by predicting Tammy Wright would have a girl when the doctor said she’d be having a boy.

      Cherry had said she’d take her case to the people; now Jason knew what she meant. She sure had a talent for making a big splash. And for making his life miserable.

      He needed to put a stop to this now.

      He found her at the Dairy Dream, an ice cream and burger joint with a blue-and-silver, moon-and-stars theme. Rikki particularly liked the glow in the dark stars on the navy ceiling.

      Cherry sat tucked up in a booth in the corner. She read a book, a romance by the look of the cover. She wore blue jeans and a white, off-the-shoulder peasant shirt. Her waves of dark curls were subdued into a loose braid.

      Little fool, didn’t she understand she risked the people turning on her? Courtesy of the Swindle, he’d dealt with angry crowds more than once. The thought of Cherry facing down a mob turned his blood cold. She might act tough, but he could span her waist with his hands and her long, slim neck, enticingly revealed by the wide-necked shirt, had a decidedly delicate look to it.

      He slid in across from her, stretching his long legs in front of him. She glanced from the page to him. Immediately, pleasure lit up her eyes and she flashed him a smile.

      Whoa Nellie. He took the impact right in the gut. God she was beautiful.

      In the next instant, she returned her attention to her book, carefully marking her place and setting it on the banquette next to her. She shifted in her seat, pulling her legs up to sit Indian fashion. When she looked up again, the intensity of her welcome had dimmed. Those lovely dark chocolate eyes were once more guarded and her smile held a rueful edge.

      “Good evening, Mayor.” She pushed her fries toward him. “You look like you need something to gnaw on. Have a fry.”

      “I’m not here to chew you out.” He reached for a golden fry dusted with crystals of salt. He grunted. Nobody did burgers and fries better than the Dairy Dream. “Hey, Stan,” he hollered over the noise of the patrons, “bring me a burger to go with these fries.”

      Stan, the owner, waved an acknowledgement. Jason pulled his wallet out and set a five on the table. He helped himself to another fry.

      “Well, you’ve been busy.”

      She shrugged and the sleeve slipped lower on her shoulder exposing creamy skin. He tried not to look, not to be tempted. Not to want her.

      He

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