The Baby Season. Alice Sharpe

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called Dolly Aames? She’d be about sixty now. I know she lived in this area forty or so years ago. Maybe right here in this very house.”

      He straightened up and scratched his fleshy chin. “The Wheeler family has been here longer than that,” he said. “Jack’s grandfather built the house. Sorry, but I don’t remember anyone by that name ever living here.”

      It was getting to be a familiar refrain. “Thanks, anyway. Jack said I could use the phone.”

      “Sure thing. Come on into the house,” Carl said.

      As she hobbled across the yard beside Carl, she said, “This place is really beautiful.”

      “It is nice,” he said with a fond smile. “’Course, what with Doc’s schedule, all the heavy work falls to me and the other hands, but that’s the way I like it. Been here long enough now that the place feels like home. Know what I mean?”

      She decided to ignore his question about home—it made her feel funny inside, the way he phrased it. Home? Home was where you slept, where you paid rent, where you got dressed in the morning to go to work. She said, “Doc?”

      “The guy you rode in with.”

      “Jack Wheeler?”

      “Sure. Only almost everyone calls him Doc Wheeler, just like his dad before him.”

      Roxanne glanced ahead to find Jack standing on a rock porch. He seemed to be studying her as she hobbled along, his expression hovering somewhere between anxious and…unreadable. She didn’t know why she made him look like that. His daughter didn’t. His horses didn’t. Not even Carl did.

      She suddenly found herself wanting to make him relax and maybe even grin, and she racked her brain for something funny to say.

      Nothing came to her.

      She tried a smile.

      He nodded politely while holding out a cordless phone, then he spoke to Carl. “People are going to start arriving soon. Maybe we’d better convince Aggie that she and her pups would be happier out in the barn. It’s about time for them to move anyway.”

      Carl nodded and disappeared into the house.

      Roxanne took the phone. She was about to ask for a phone book when Jack met her gaze and rattled off a number. She punched it in, got an answering machine saying that Oz, of Oz Repair and Towing, was out on a job, leave a name and number, he’d get back to you. She found a number on the phone and left it on Oz’s answering machine along with her name and on second thought, Jack Wheeler’s name.

      “Looks as though you’re stuck with me for a while,” she told Jack.

      He grunted. “Oz can be a little…unpredictable. He’s got things going on at home, too. He’ll get back to you, all right, only on his own time schedule.” He stared at her for an eternity and added, “We’re having a party for Ginny. I need to shower and change clothes before the guests arrive.”

      “She’s very charming,” Roxanne said.

      Now his face softened again. The man was obviously a sucker for his kid. Roxanne found that rather intriguing. She couldn’t imagine either of her parents going out of their way to host a birthday party for her at such a tender age…okay, at any age.

      “I can’t believe she’s already three years old,” Jack said.

      It suddenly occurred to Roxanne that Jack’s wife hadn’t only abandoned him but their child. How incredible! Having made the decision to have a baby, how could the woman then abandon her?

      On the other hand, how could she abandon Jack Wheeler?

      She said, “Carl said you’re a doctor. What kind?”

      “General practitioner. I have a little office in Tangent. I’m one of a dying breed of small-town doctors. I do everything from tending to the dying to delivering babies.”

      “Delivering babies,” she mumbled. “Why am I not surprised?”

      “Listen,” he said, obviously trying to figure out what to do with Roxanne. “A kid’s party is going to be boring as hell for you.”

      “I don’t mind.”

      “It’s a big house. There are plenty of places to relax until Oz calls back.”

      “Will there be any adults at the party?”

      “Yes—”

      “From around here?”

      “Of course.”

      “Maybe one of them will know something about Dolly Aames,” Roxanne said. “Would you mind if I invite myself to your party?”

      He looked her up and down. Until that moment, she wasn’t even aware she knew how to blush, but under his scrutiny, imagining what a mess she was, she felt her cheeks grow warm. Maybe it was just the blasted sunburn catching up with her.

      “I could wash first,” she said. “And maybe borrow a shoe.”

      He looked unconvinced that washing or shoes would help her appearance. How he managed to suffuse this skeptical expression with enough sexual energy to rival a nuclear power plant was fascinating and would require further contemplation on Roxanne’s part.

      But not now.

      Now she was too busy inviting herself to a child’s party.…

      “You’re welcome to come,” he said.

      “And what about Sal? Will she be there?”

      “Yes. Sal will be there and you can ask her about Dolly Aames. You’re persistent, aren’t you?”

      “I am indeed,” Roxanne said.

      Carl reappeared just then, loaded down with a box. A glance inside showed four black-and-white puppies. The mom was the shaggy black-and-white dog who was now hanging around down by Carl’s knees, casting him worried looks. “I’ll settle them in the barn and then I’ll see to the barbecue and the ice.”

      “Thanks, Carl,” Jack said. Holding the door for Roxanne, he added, “This way.”

      The door opened into a large, square kitchen with rough ceiling beams. Long windows faced away from the sun and the room was cool even though Roxanne detected no air-conditioning. There were reddish tiles on the floors, the drain boards were made of thick wooden planks and were covered with several bowls of salad, platters of meat, cheese and vegetables, stacks of sandwiches and a pink birthday cake.

      It was a gorgeous room filled with delectable smells that reminded Roxanne she was hungry. Starving. She wondered if she could sneak a cucumber wedge. Or a sandwich. She politely kept her hands to herself as she met the gaze of an attractive woman of about thirty wearing blue jeans and a baggy fringed cowboy shirt. Jack’s girlfriend? The woman smiled at Roxanne.

      “Roxanne, meet Grace, our housekeeper slash cook,” Jack said. “Grace, this is Roxanne.”

      Grace,

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