group of cowhands that came in every day. One by one, most had tried to hit on her, but in a relaxed, friendly way that never got serious. She could swat their propositions aside like a mama dog controlling her puppies. Few took offense, and those that did were easily joked out of it.
Today Cari wasn’t doing any joking. Her mind was on other things and she poured coffee and took orders with a distracted air. The men she served were a blur to her. Her thoughts were full of Max.
“I’ve just got to think about him as much as I can now, so I can be done with him and get him out of my head,” she told herself impatiently. It was a plan, but she wasn’t at all sure it was a plan that was going to work.
She’d known from the moment he’d walked into the club that he was absolutely the wrong man for her. Too tall, too handsome, too arrogant, too sure of his right to command the attention of everyone there.
Her husband had been like that in a way. Well, not so tall, not so handsome, and not so full of self-confidence. But he’d had the arrogance down pat. Brian had mostly been frustrated in his attempts to take charge of the rest of the world. He’d had a bit more success in boxing her in with his small life and visions. And he’d managed to make her life miserable because of it.
The autocratic husband was the worst kind, as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t sure she ever wanted another man in her life at all, but if she did decide to try another relationship, it sure wouldn’t be with a man like Brian. Or Max, for that matter.
“That’s why Randy is so perfect for you,” Mara had pointed out when she’d stopped by to see her and try to explain how she’d ended up on a date with the wrong man. “You’ve really got to get to know him. You’ll have to date him more than once to really give him a chance.”
“Oh, Mara, I don’t know. After what happened last night…”
“Listen, you owe it to him. The poor guy spent hours waiting for you at the club.”
“No he didn’t. Not from what he told me. And anyway, he should have left after half an hour or so. I would have.”
“In fact, you did.” Mara gave her an exasperated sigh. “He was so excited about meeting you, of course. And now he’s got to be wondering what all that meant. You’ve got to be nice to him and really give him a chance.”
Cari had to hold back a smile. Mara was pushing a little too hard for this. That meant she’d begun to doubt it was going to work out. Oh, well. Cari would give it a shot. That was all she could do.
A new customer had come in and was about to seat himself at the counter. When she turned and saw it was Max, she gasped and almost dropped the coffee urn she was carrying. He gave her a halfhearted grin and shrugged. She put down the coffee and caught her breath. She’d never imagined he might show up here.
He was wearing slacks that fit his muscular body like a glove, bulging in all the right places, and a silky white shirt open low at the neck. He hadn’t shaved and his face looked stunningly sexy with a day’s worth of dark beard.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a voice just above a whisper. She didn’t bother to ask how he’d found out which of the city’s hundreds of coffee shops she worked in. She knew his answer to that one. His people knew how to find these things out. Something told her he would always find her if he wanted to, and she wasn’t sure if that was a promise or a threat.
Max looked at her in wonder. She had her thick blond hair tied back, but little curls were breaking free all around her face. She wore a stiff, starched uniform, baby-blue with white lacy trim and a white lacy apron, sensible white shoes and a perky little hat. She looked for all the world like an exceptionally adorable matron in a fantasy children’s ward. He half expected to see friendly cartoon characters bouncing along behind her.
“I came because I need to talk to you,” he said. “You’re the only person I know who knows anything about babies.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked quickly, a tiny flare of alarm shivering through her. “Has something happened?”
“No, nothing. Jamie’s fine. Just fine.” Max hesitated. He knew he sounded defensive and that made him frown more fiercely.
“Then what’s wrong?” She shook her head in bewilderment.
“Nothing. Well, something.”
He shook his own head, trying to figure out how to express the discomfort he felt with the childcare he’d arranged without sounding like a candidate for a mental clinic. Maybe what he’d seen was normal. Maybe he was being a crank. But maybe, just maybe, Mrs. Turner was a lousy nanny. He just didn’t know the answer.
He sank down into the stool at the counter and turned up the cup. She moved automatically, filling it with coffee.
“Explain,” she demanded impatiently. “What are the symptoms?”
His beautiful hands with their long, tapered fingers curled around the cup. She watched him do it, fascinated. Everything about him seemed better, even the way he held a cup. But she didn’t have time for any swooning this afternoon. This was all about the baby.
“Well?” she said.
“It’s just…oh, hell.” He looked up, appealing to her supposed expertise. “He’s crying a lot.”
Cari froze and looked at him quickly. Brian had hated it when their baby had cried. In fact, it seemed to drive him a bit crazy when it happened. Her heart beat a little faster, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Max wasn’t Brian. He hadn’t said he couldn’t stand it, just that it worried him.
Okay, start over again.
She nodded a little stiffly. A baby crying wasn’t really unusual. But if it was happening to the point where Max was worried, she was going to delve into it a bit.
“No fever?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Gas?”
He made a face. “I don’t know.”
“Does the nanny hold him against her shoulder and pat or rub his back?”
He thought for a minute, then nodded. “I’ve seen her do that a time or two. But not for long.” He frowned. “I don’t trust the nanny. She’s obsessed with making sure she doesn’t spoil him. It’s like she thinks we’re raising a Spartan kid or something. She doesn’t want to make him too comfortable, as if he’ll get too soft if he’s happy.” He grimaced. “So she lets him cry.”
Cari was sure he was exaggerating, so she didn’t take him too seriously. She closed her eyes, thinking, then opened them again and shook her head.
“You know what it probably is? He misses his mom.”
Max searched her eyes. To his relief, Cari was taking his worries seriously. She was frowning, thinking over her instant diagnosis. She looked down at him.
“Did you get in a good supply of formula?”
“Of course.”
She nodded again, then her eyes widened. “Oh, maybe he was being breast fed. The formula might not agree with him. Maybe that’s why he’s crying.”
He groaned, looking miserable. “But Cari, there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“Of course not. He’ll just have to get used to the formula.”
“How long will that take?”
She had a hard time holding back a smile. His face was a picture of tragic helplessness. He was a man of action. He wanted to do something to make everything better. But he was being told there was nothing he could do, and that was maddening to him.
“Of course, the best thing would be if the baby’s mother came back. You haven’t found her yet?” she asked, knowing it wouldn’t be a welcome question at all.