A Baby of Her Own
A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(32)
Author: Brenda Novak
Conner nodded, marginally interested because the idea seemed to have some merit, but in the end, his dark mood won out, and they sat in silence until Roy finished his beer. Setting his bottle down, the foreman finally stood to go, but Conner stopped him with a question.
“How well do you know Delaney Lawson?”
“She grew up here, for the most part,” Roy said. “She’s a real nice girl, has a drink at the Honky Tonk now and then, bakes a great pie. She’s single, if that’s what you’re after. You interested?”
In making her pay for what she’d done to him, maybe. Conner didn’t answer. “What about Rebecca?”
“Hang out at the Honky Tonk or the barbershop or even the convenience store long enough and you’ll learn all you want to know about Rebecca Wells,” Roy said. “Her daddy’s the mayor.”
“So she’s locally famous?”
“I’d say it’s more like she’s—” his lips twisted into a wry grin as he shoved his hands in his pockets and jingled his change “—notorious.”
“How’s that?”
“When she was, oh, ’bout seventeen, she ran away with a biker, but she was too hard to handle, even for him. He sent her packing right away.” Chuckling, he scratched his head where his hat had left what looked like a permanent imprint. “She’s getting married soon, though. And believe me, you don’t want to hook up with her, anyway. Just ask Josh Hill. They’ve had a feud going for as long as I can remember. The whole town stays out of their way.”
“What’s wrong with Rebecca? Besides her hair?”
He shrugged. “She’s wild. She set the high school on fire trying to burn the mascot symbol into the football field, and dyed Mrs. Reese’s hair blue the night before she was supposed to chair a meeting for the Daughters of the American Revolution, and—”
“The hair thing wasn’t an accident?” Conner asked.
Roy shook his head. “Mrs. Reese’s son was dating Rebecca, and Mrs. Reese stepped in to make sure it didn’t come to anything. The blue hair was Rebecca’s way of saying thank you.”
Then, maybe Rebecca could identify with his desire for revenge, Conner thought.
Roy stretched his hands toward the fire, mistaking Conner’s smile for interest in his story. “It all turned out for the best, though. I can’t see Byron Reese with Rebecca. He works at the bank with his father, but he’s too much of a mama’s boy.”
“Rebecca lives with Delaney, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, they’ve been friends for years.”
“And they’re completely loyal to each other.”
“You got that right. Gilbert Tripp once backed his truck into Delaney’s car at the Quick Mart, then tried to drive away before Rebecca and Delaney could get out of the store. Rebecca got behind the wheel and chased him down. He gave her some excuse about how Delaney had parked wrong and the accident was really her fault. Rebecca pulled him out of the truck by the shirtfront and gave him a black eye.”
Conner considered this tidbit of information as he finished his beer and started on the bottle he had waiting in reserve. “No kidding?”
“That’s our Rebecca.”
“Who’d want to marry a woman like that?” Conner asked.
“A man who doesn’t know any better. A man from out of state. She’s moving to Nebraska after the wedding.”
“When’s that?”
“In June, I think. Dottie would know,” he said, as Dottie came in from the kitchen carrying a bowl of ice cream for each of them.
“What would I know?” she asked as Sundance stood and started wagging his tail. Champ stayed where he was but thumped his tail against the floor.
“The date of Rebecca’s wedding,” Roy said.
“June twenty-sixth. Then she’s off to Nebraska.”
Conner declined the ice cream in favor of continuing to nurse his beer, but Roy accepted a bowl.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do once she’s gone,” Dottie said, propping one fist on her hip. “No one can get my hair to hold a perm the way she can. Poor Delaney will miss her, too. They’ve been like Siamese twins ever since they started grade school.”
Conner didn’t say it, but he thought Dottie’s hair would do well to lose the perm. And he wasn’t too sad for Delaney, either.
“Bring your bowl to the sink when you’re done,” Dottie told Roy, and turned back to the kitchen. She paused at the door. “You two make any progress on finding someone to take over for me while I’m gone? Lydia could have that baby anytime, you know.”
Conner scowled. He didn’t have the patience to deal with domestic matters at the moment.
Fortunately, Roy answered for him. “We’ve been pretty busy, but we’ll start looking right away.”
“Unless you want to go hungry, you’d better. How’s your grandfather, Conner?” Dottie asked.
Roy cocked an eyebrow at Conner, as if to say that was one question he couldn’t answer for him, and Conner sighed. “Fine.”
“I thought we’d see more of him now that you’re here, but the ornery old coot hasn’t been out once.”
Conner didn’t want to talk about Clive. It reminded him too much of all the effort he’d put into the place these past two months, effort that was now a waste. The Delaney situation would make him look as though he hadn’t shaped up at all.
“You got a headache?” Dottie asked, when Conner pressed his fingertips to his temples. “You want me to get you a couple Tylenol?”
“No, thanks.” Suddenly he stood, because he couldn’t sit still another minute. “I’m going out,” he said. “See you both in the morning.”
“MR. ARMSTRONG?” The high-pitched voice came through the phone a little too loudly, as though the caller had a hearing problem, and Conner yanked the handset back a few inches to stop the sound from grating through his hangover like a buzz saw.
Wincing, he tried to clear the cotton out of his mouth so he could speak. “Yes?” he said, wondering what time it was. Roy had come to collect him at the Honky Tonk at closing, just as if Conner had asked him to be there. But Conner hadn’t asked him to do anything and still didn’t understand how Roy knew exactly where to find him.
In a town this size, it probably wasn’t very difficult to locate someone, he decided. However, he was a little mystified as to why Roy had come. What did it matter to him if Conner made it home or not?