the baby.
“I’m riding in a rodeo here tomorrow night, and then we’ll be in Oklahoma City for the rodeo next weekend, so we’ll come see you then.”
He paused and listened. “Yeah, she’s with me. How are your girls? And Alexa? Good. Tell them hello. See you Saturday.” Jared turned to her. “Faith, do you want to talk to him again?”
She shook her head, then watched as Jared turned back to the phone. With one hand splayed on his hip, he seemed so relaxed, so easygoing, yet there was an air of energy about him that she could feel every time he was near. She would go to dinner with him, she decided. It gave her a peculiar feeling, as if she was caught in a current carrying her along, out of control. Her life was order and stability and security. Filled with routine precision, it was as sure and certain as the hands on a clock. But ever since she had plunged through the spirea bushes and Jared Whitewolf had come into her life, she had felt off balance and out-of-step.
Merry began to fret, and Faith bent down to pick her up. “You have been a very good girl today. You really are a sweetie,” she said, remembering that Jared had used the endearment earlier. She turned to find that Jared had replaced the receiver and was sauntering back to her. “Have you been waiting here in the lobby with this baby all day?” she asked.
“No. We spent the afternoon in the park and then came back about closing time.”
“Your brother didn’t know about Merry.”
“No, but he does now. We don’t write letters. Now, what do you say about dinner?”
“You’ll have to wait around for a little while until I’m ready.”
“We don’t mind, do we, Merry?” he asked, and Merry smiled at him.
“She’s the best behaved baby I have ever seen. She smiles every time anyone looks at her.”
“That’s because—”
“I know. Because you smile a lot,” she said, finishing for him as she handed Merry back to him. He grinned while he fell into step beside her and walked with her to the elevator, pushing the empty stroller ahead of him.
“If you’d rather wait in our office, you may. It might be easier with Merry.”
“Thanks.” He held the elevator door while she entered, and then he pushed the stroller inside. He leaned back against a wall and faced her.
“What’s your title?”
“Executive director of advertising.”
“I’m impressed. And what do you do? Sell advertising?”
“No. I’m a graphic artist. I plan the layout and design, write copy, sometimes do the entire ad campaign or promotion. I have certain accounts I regularly handle, as well as others I do occasionally, and I have six people I supervise.”
While she talked, she was aware of his steady scrutiny. She became more conscious of her appearance, knowing her hair needed combing and her makeup had long ago disappeared. Her blouse was wrinkled and she had a green stain on her collar, probably from the spirea. Jared looked relaxed, one knee slightly bent, his booted foot propped against the wall.
“Do you always work this late?”
“No. We’re working on a big account, and the client wanted changes at the last minute, so we’re rushing to get everything done. We present the pitch in the morning.”
He nodded. “Have any particular food you like to eat?”
“Maybe Italian.” She glanced at Merry. “Won’t we be keeping the baby up long past her bedtime?”
Jared shook his head. “She sleeps off and on around the clock. And whether she’s tucked into her bed or out with us, Merry will sleep. When she’s ready to snooze, nothing will stop her. Don’t worry, she won’t lose sleep,” he said, smiling.
“You know best,” Faith replied.
The elevator doors opened and she led the way to a glass door that she unlocked.
“You can wait in here.”
They entered a large reception area with beige carpeting, dark wood furniture and pots of green plants. Faith turned to him. “I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. We have all the time in the world. At least, until the rodeo tomorrow night.”
Feeling the familiar sense of being caught in something she couldn’t control, Faith left through a glass door and returned to work. She moved down the hall to a wide table where brochures and folders were spread. Nearby a colorful graph filled the screen of her computer.
Her co-worker and immediate supervisor, Porter Gaston, glanced toward the glassed-in waiting room and his blond brows arched. “Who’s your friend?”
“Jared Whitewolf. We’re going to dinner later,” she tried to say casually, wishing the announcement would go unnoticed, yet knowing it would be as overlooked as a firecracker exploding in a prayer meeting. Without really seeing it, she studied the brochure in front of her.
“You’re kidding.”
Looking up, she could see the incredulity in Porter’s blue eyes.
“Who the hell is he? Where did you meet him?” he demanded.
“He’s a friend. Shall we get back to work?” She stared at Porter, feeling a challenge rising. For the first time in her life she was doing something unexpected, unscheduled and uncharacteristic. While Porter looked at the reception area again, she turned to the computer.
“Faith, how long have you known this guy? I know I’m prying, but we’re friends.”
She turned to face Porter. “I haven’t known him long, but I’ve talked to his brother, who is a detective. Jared is a nice guy.”
“Well, damn. I can’t believe you’re going out with him. Here Madge and I have been trying for two months to get you and Kent together and you’re always busy. Yet here in the middle of this project, out of nowhere you’re going to dinner with some stranger.”
“It’s just dinner, Porter.”
“How long have you known Whitewolf?”
“His name is Jared Whitewolf.”
“Sorry. You’re evading my question.”
“I met him today.”
“Good Lord! And now you’re going to dinner with that ponytailed cowboy? Faith, the papers are filled with stories about women who get picked up by strangers and the terrible things that happen to them.”
“Look, I already told you, his brother is a detective, and I spoke to him. The guy is safe. He seems nice. He has a sweet little baby. He has a house on South Peoria. I read about him riding in the rodeo. I’ve seen a program with a write-up about him. He’s won a lot of rodeo prizes—”
“This
