Navarro or Not. Tina Leonard

grow a spine. You know, I really want to see her become a vertebrate.”

      “Hey!” He turned her to face him. “Be nice to your sis.”

      “I always am. But Marvella was going to gouge you by using Valentine, and Valentine should have stood up and said, ‘No, thanks—have a party without me.”’

      “She’s pregnant,” Navarro reminded her. “We Jeffersons do have some responsibility here.”

      She looked at him.

      “I mean, I’m not exactly trying to be all honorable or anything,” Navarro said. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to look good to you. We’re going to be related, I guess, by baby. So,” he said with a shrug, “I’ll probably see you every Thanksgiving or so. Maybe at Christmas I can catch you under the mistletoe.”

      “Well, you’re being more honest than me.” She looked down the street. “Let’s go before we run into Marvella. I need to ponder Valentine’s next action. And mine.”

      He pulled her to him so that he could lift her chin and look into her eyes. “You’re not listening to me. You’re making me want to read a new kind of book.”

      “I’ve had enough of reading,” she said, knowing he wasn’t talking about books at all. “For now, I’ve got to think. And the first thing that comes to mind is getting Valentine away from Marvella.”

      “So you two should come to the ranch.”

      She stared at him. “Ranch?”

      “Union Junction Ranch—Malfunction Junction. You’ll be safe there with my family. And we can plot our course.”

      “What do you think Last would say about that?”

      Navarro shrugged. “Whether he likes it or not, we’re one big happy family. Provided, of course, that the baby is Last’s. And I don’t say that to be mean, but—”

      “Valentine says it is.”

      He nodded. “Come to the ranch with me. Tonight. We’ll leave Marvella a congenial kiss-my-grits note. Very congenial, for the sake of future relations. Namely, coming back to get your charmed bed.”

      She shook her head. “I don’t want to go to the ranch. I want to live my own life. Actually, I wouldn’t be averse to Valentine letting me raise her baby back in Delaware.”

      “What?”

      She could tell that thought had never crossed this cowboy’s mind.

      “That’s Jefferson flesh and blood you’re talking about,” he said on a growl. “Come on, Nina, don’t make my head pop off my shoulders here.”

      “It’s also Cakes flesh and blood. And I’m going to do what’s best for Valentine. Maybe she doesn’t want to live forever at your ranch. Perhaps it would be good for her to grow up and not always have someone rescue her. And, anyway, Last may not want her around.”

      “It doesn’t matter what Last wants.” His fingers tightened just a bit on her arms. “Nina, you moving away with the baby would be very hard on us Jeffersons. Let’s smoke on this some more, okay? There’s a way to work this out. We probably need a librarian in town.”

      She looked at him. “What town?”

      “Union Junction.”

      “Why do I need to know that?”

      “Won’t you want a job?”

      “I have a job in Dannon. I took vacation to come down here and help my sister fend off your brother.”

      “Fend off my…wait a minute. Last isn’t exactly bothering your sister. She was the one seeking money from us.”

      “This whole business of taking Valentine to the ranch with you is just a way to get around talking about custody in the courts, isn’t it?”

      “Now hold on—”

      “Anyway, you said yourself, Last wouldn’t care if the whole problem disappeared. I want a child. If Valentine decides to return home to Dannon with me, I’d at least get to raise my sister’s baby. I’m even prepared to get married so a court of law would look upon me as a model of stability. Which shouldn’t be a problem because librarians are not exactly known to be wacky.” She pulled peach lip gloss from her purse and applied it with a brush—all, he was certain, to make his blood boil.

      “Although there may be some wacky librarians. I’m not saying there aren’t,” Nina continued. “But you know?” She pulled her blond hair up onto her head in a sweet rubber-banded ponytail, then put on black cat’s-eye glasses that should have been awful but that looked funky and sexy as hell on her heart-shaped face. “It’s just not the profession women go into for a good time. ‘How’s your Dewey decimal system today?’ isn’t a line men use.”

      “Oh, boy,” Navarro said. “You are trouble with a capital T.”

      “And you can spell.” She gave him a droll look and lightly tapped his arm. “I wear these to read to the children for story time. They also like the pointy black boots I wear and the red-and-white-striped socks. I dress like Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, not that I expect you to know who that is. I suppose I should dress more like a muggle or a hobbit to keep current with the times, but I find that the younger children particularly enjoy the comfort and familiarity of a grandmotherly type reading them books.”

      “And do you read from an upside-down house?” Navarro murmured.

      “Oh, you have read the books!”

      “Well,” Navarro said uncomfortably, not wanting to dim the excitement in her voice because he liked it. “I haven’t read them personally. Dad used to read to us as kids, at night, to give Mom a break from taking care of us. It wasn’t easy raising twelve boys, and her joy was a bubble bath at night while Dad read. But then, he tired out when…” He hesitated, thinking about the past. He and his brothers had enjoyed their childhoods, he couldn’t deny that. But after their mother died, the reading—and a lot more—had stopped. “I haven’t read a book in a while.”