are pretty dangerous, rotting timbers, standing water....”
“We weren’t alone,” Becca broke in hastily, then busied herself picking up her coffee cup and carrying it to the sink. “We were with Barry,” she added in a tone that she hoped sounded casual. “Would you like more coffee?” She had the feeling, though, that she resembled someone who, when meeting a bear in the woods, throws a decoy in one direction and runs in the other praying for a distraction while hotfooting it toward safety.
“Barry Whelker? Your boss?” Clay’s tone was deceptively soft. “Is he interested in abandoned mines?”
Becca turned to face him, her back to the sink and her hands behind her, gripping the edge of the ceramic tile counter. “Not very much. But he knows Jimmy is.”
“Why should he care?”
“He’s a nice man,” she said carefully.
Clay’s mouth firmed into a straight line. “So you’ve said, but why does he care about Jimmy’s interests?”
Her eyes darted away, then back to meet his. Her chin came up. “You see, Clay, Barry and I have been dating.”
“Dating?”
His voice had dropped to a low rumble. Becca swallowed hard and told herself she wasn’t afraid of him, or of his reaction. Her social life really wasn’t any of his business. “Yes, you remember dating, don’t you? It’s that getting-to-know-you activity we didn’t do enough of before we got married.”
“I see, and you’re taking my son along on these dates?” Clay rose from his chair and leaned forward, the tips of his fingers resting on the tabletop. His eyes had gone as dark as the sea before a storm.
“Occasionally, if it’s a family activity....”
“But not on the private activities between the two of you?”
Anger flushed Becca’s face red, brought her hands to her waist and her chin higher into the air. “Just exactly what are you implying, Clay?”
“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking if you’re being careful around Jimmy.”
“We’re certainly not doing anything wrong, Clay, and furthermore, I don’t see why you would think it was any of....”
The back door flew open and banged against the wall, startling them both. They whirled around to see Becca’s youngest sister, Brittnie struggling into the room. Her arms were full of a large scrapbook and several photograph albums. A small baker’s box rode precariously on top. Her face was turned away as she steadied the box against her cheek.
“Hi, Sis,” she huffed, reaching behind her with her foot to shut the door against the March breeze, and at the same time, making a grab for the sliding box. “I picked up the stuff you wanted from Dan’s Bakery. His wedding cakes are the best in town. He sent a photo album of his best cakes and a sample of the lemon one. I had the chocolate one last year at Brenda Luna’s reception. It was wonderful. I think you and Barry will be happy with any of them.” Abandoning her struggle with the door, she turned around and said, “Hey, can you help me out here? I’ve got my hands full, you know, and you’re just standing there like your shoes are nailed to the...” Her eyes widened and her voice trailed off when she spotted Clay. “Floor,” she finished in a sinking tone. She darted a quick glance at Becca, licked her lips and said meekly, “Hi, Clay.”
“Hello, Brittnie.” He straightened away from the table and moved toward her with a smooth, gliding stride that made Becca think of a stalking panther. “What did you say you’ve got there?”
Brittnie, whom Becca had always considered to be the fast thinker in the family, whipped around, dumped the articles on the counter behind her sister, then stood shoulder to shoulder with her and gave her former brother-in-law a big, empty-headed smile. “Oh, nothing, just some...Oh, nothing.”
Clay stood before the two of them and tried to peek over their shoulders. “What was all the talk about wedding cakes?”
“Dad, I put my book away,” Jimmy shouted from the living room. His pounding feet were fast approaching the kitchen. “Can we go now?”
When he skidded to a halt in the doorway, Becca looked at his expectant face, then threw a frantically pleading glance at Brittnie, who leaped away from the counter and swooped toward her nephew.
“Hey, Sport,” she said cheerily. “Your mom and dad need to have a little talk. Why don’t you show me your rock collection?” Over his loud protests, she swept him into her arms.
“You already saw my rock collection,” he insisted, arching away from her and giving his parents ah anxious look. “Are Mom and Dad gonna have a fight?”
“No, no, of course not,” Brittnie assured him though her voice had an edge that said she didn’t believe that, either.
“’Cause I don’t like it when they fight.”
“They won’t fight,” she reassured him as she hustled him away.
In the kitchen, Becca stared at Clay, as fascinated as a cobra held fast by a mongoose. Bit by bit, the polite but cool expression he had worn for the past half hour crumbled away as if a stone mask was being chipped off.
His eyes darkened, his thick brows drew together like gathering thunderclouds and his jaw tightened. “Wedding cakes, Becca?” he asked in a silky tone. “Now just why would you be interested in wedding cakes? And why would Barry be interested in wedding cakes right along with you?”
Becca felt as if her heart had dropped to her stomach, then bounced back up again. Now it was stuck behind her esophagus, cutting off her air. She cleared her throat and opened her dry mouth to speak, but it was a moment before anything came out.
“We...uh, we...he...’re getting mar...married,” she wheezed, stretching the words out, then could have kicked herself for reacting as if she’d been caught doing something wrong.
“Married?” he asked, moving to stand towering over her. “You and Barry?”
“That’s...that’s right.”
“This is the first I’ve heard of it, Becca. In fact, I just learned five minutes ago that you two are dating.”
“Well, well, we are,” she bluffed, holding her chin at such an exaggerated angle that she feared her jaw would crack. “I’ve been dating Barry for three months now.”
“And now you’re going to many him?”
“That’s right. We...we just made the decision a few days ago.” Finally, her fear of his reaction began to fade and her natural stubbornness kicked in. “And frankly, I don’t see that this is really any of your business, Clay.”
“The hell it isn’t. Anything that affects my son is my business and your remarriage will definitely affect him. What does he think of this, by the way?”
Becca glanced away. “He likes Barry.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Clay reached out, snagged her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him. “What does Jimmy think
