The Baby Notion by Browning Dixie

Author:Browning, Dixie [Browning, Dixie]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2011-09-09T00:06:47+00:00

Six

Saturday. Priss had missed two readings at the hospital. She had hoped to make it up tonight, but she didn’t know how she could manage to get herself into town. Her car was going to take at least a week to repair, and the loaner she’d been promised was not yet available. She thought several unflattering things about a town the size of New Hope that had only a single rental agency.

It had to be the holiday weekend. The Fourth was always a big event in New Hope, and when it fell on a weekend it was a three-day whoop-de-do. People came from all around, and every available vehicle was turned into a float for the parade.

Jake had mentioned finding her something to drive, but then she’d be even more beholden to him than she was now. The thought made her nervous for reasons she didn’t care to dwell on.

“Ants in yer pants?” Pete asked, and she nodded. That about described it. Jake had left early in the morning for Fort Worth to see a man about a horse.

Actually, it was about twenty horses, which, according to Pete, who was showing Priss how to boil coffee, Jake would then arrange to have transported to the Bar Nothing, where he would pasture them, finish them off and sell them in the fall sale.

And she didn’t miss him, she really didn’t, Priss told herself. Pete was surprisingly good company, now that they’d agreed on the fact that Priss was a total disaster in the kitchen and that Pete could cook circles around any chef in New Hope, from Antonio’s famous kitchen magician to Sue Ellen at the diner.

“Sue Ellen does bake an outstanding lemon meringue pie, though,” Priss opined, out of loyalty to a woman she admired more than almost anyone she could think of. Except, perhaps, Rosalie, who’d been orphaned at seven, gone to work at nine, and supported herself ever since, never once losing faith in her God, her church, or herself.

“You ain’t never tasted my bread puddin’,” Pete told her, to which Priss could only reply that no, she never had.

“Coconut, raisins an’ pineapple juice. Makes it real tasty. I’ll bake one fer supper tomorrow night. Jake’ll be home by then, I reck’n.”

Priss hadn’t asked. She had sort of hoped he’d be back later on today, but then, she hadn’t the least notion of how long his business would take. Or what other business he had in mind to do. He could have a lady friend in Fort Worth. He could have a dozen of them. He was single. He was the kind of man any woman with a viable hormone in her body couldn’t help but respond to. Goodness knows, Priss had enough trouble keeping her head anchored on when he was around.

Which was one more reason why she needed to find herself some wheels and another roof and get out of Jake’s way as soon as possible.

“Is that eggshell you just put in the coffee?” she squawked.

“Yep. Settles the grounds.

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