Designer Genes (16 page)

It was after
four o’clock now, and Carter would be leaving to fetch his father as soon as he
showered. Their discussion had to wait.

*

On the way to
his father’s place, Carter supposed he ought to be pleased that the dress sale
had gone well. It was good to see funds being collected for the school and for
Buffy’s empty purse.

It worried
him, though, that she was taking in so much. At this rate, she’d pay him off in
a jiffy and be on her way out of town.

He had to
change her mind. He couldn’t let go of his daughter now that he’d found her.

He wasn’t sure
how to let go of Buffy, either. But he’d known from the start that she was too
dangerous for a man as easily dazzled as him.

And dazzled he
certainly was.

*

Driving back
from the ranch with Murdock, Carter broke the news that he had a granddaughter.
The response was the most enormous grin he’d ever seen on his father’s face.

“I knew that
little cutie was one of us!” Murdock smoothed down his striped second-best
shirt. “She’s the spitting image of your mother. It struck me the first time I
laid eyes on her.”

“It sure did,”
Carter acknowledged as they rumbled along the narrow highway.

“Now you’ve
got to do the right thing by that little gal Buffy,” said his father.

“Whoa!” Carter
couldn’t believe his father’s train of thought. “Dad, we hardly know each
other.”

“You know each
other well enough to have a child together,” the man growled.

“It was an
accident. Not our accident, either.” Carter had explained the circumstances.
Apparently they meant nothing to the ecstatic new grandpa.

“Accidents
have been happening since Adam and Eve got lost in the garden and asked the
wrong snake for directions.”

“She would
never agree to marry a yokel like me.” That was, in Carter’s opinion, the main
sticking point.

“You
 
have to persuade her,” said his father.
“Then you can raise your daughter properly.”

“Buffy’s not
the kind of woman you can rope and hog-tie, Dad.” She was, he reflected, like
quicksilver: fluid and fascinating and impossible to hold.

Or was his
father right? A man would never know what a woman’s answer might be unless he
popped the question.

Logically,
they ought to get married, despite the impersonal way this baby business had
happened. He’d enjoy having a wife like Buffy or, since he doubted there was another
woman like her in the wide world, a wife who
was
Buffy. While she had
her flighty qualities, she was practical, too. Just look at her dress business.

As for whether
she’d be willing to settle down with a small-town grease monkey, maybe she’d
marry him for Allie’s sake. Or because she fit in here. People liked her.

Before Carter
could inspect the subject from any other angles, they reached his house.
Murdock rushed into the kitchen and hugged his granddaughter. Then he sat her
on his lap and talked to her for the next fifteen minutes, until the steaks
were ready.

Buffy smiled
at the doting picture. Her flowing blonde hair and pink sundress made her seem
as fragile as cotton candy, Carter thought. And as likely to melt away.

His natural
caution warned him to consider all the ramifications before proposing marriage.
But if he waited, he might lose her. And Allie. And his mind.

He had to take
a chance. At worst, she’d stomp on his pride, humiliate him beyond belief,
laugh in his face and spread the story all over town, making him the butt of
jokes. But it was worth the risk. Also, he didn’t believe she had a mean bone
in her body.

Plus, the
folks in Nowhere Junction weren’t cruel like city folks or Groundhogs. A bunch
of mean girls over at the regional high school had tried bullying a local girl
on-line. Next morning, she’d found an apple, a lemon meringue and a pecan pie
on her doorstep with sympathy notes. As for the mean girls, there’d been
anonymous threats to throw custard pies in their faces at the prom. Carter
doubted anybody would have done it, but the girls had publicly apologized, just
to be safe.

Mazeppa, who’d
been napping, joined the group for dinner. She’d showered and changed into a
blue-and-white striped blouse and a blue skirt she’d bought that day.

“You know,
you’re not such an ugly woman after all,” Murdock remarked, studying her
between glances at the baby in the playpen.

“I’ll try not
to let your flattery go to
 
my head.”
Despite her sarcasm, Mazeppa’s smile testified to her pleasure.

With her dark
hair washed and held back by barrettes, she was reasonably attractive, Carter
supposed. Not that any woman could hold a candle to Buffy.

“I heard you
have a new goddaughter in the Grimes household,” his father continued. “And I
have a new granddaughter. Somebody ought to break out the champagne.”

“Afraid I
don’t have any,” Carter said.

“He doesn’t
drink,” Buffy added. “I suppose you know that, though, Mr. Murchison.”

“Call me
Murdock,” he said. “No, wait. Make that Grandpa. I like the sound of it.”
Mazeppa snorted. “Something wrong with that?”

“A title like
Grandpa has to be earned,” she said. “You can’t bat your eyes at our little
Allie and figure that’s all it takes. Volunteer to baby-sit. Whittle toys for
her. Be a presence in her world.”

“Don’t think I
won’t.” He turned to Carter. “I guess it’s time I bought a car, so I can visit
more often. Any idea who has one for sale?”

“I might,”
Buffy said.

“That sports
car I saw in the garage?” Murdock shook his head. “I was contemplating one of
those sport utility vehicles.”

“No way,”
declared Mazeppa. “Anybody’d think you were a teenager! You’re an old coot, and
you should drive a sedan.”

“If I were an
old coot, would I be playing footsie with you under the table?” He quirked an
eyebrow.

“That’s my
foot you’ve been kicking, Dad,” Carter said.

His father’s
face turned beet-red. Mazeppa didn’t laugh, though. Her expression might best
be described as speculative.

Buffy broke
the awkward moment by retrieving the vanilla ice cream, with chocolate chips
for topping. “They were on sale at Gigi’s, as I guess everybody heard,” she
said of the chips. “I’d melt them if you had a microwave.”

“Behind the
times, is he?” harrumphed Murdock, disregarding the fact that he himself lived
only a few decades this side of the Stone Age.

“I suppose it
wouldn’t hurt to buy one,” Carter conceded.

“Popsworthy
stocks a couple of microwaves,” Mazeppa said. “I’ll bet he’ll give you a
discount if you promise to vote for him.”

“Not me! I
plan to write in Quade’s name, whether he’s running or not.” Until this moment,
Carter hadn’t given the matter any thought, but it struck him as a good idea.
Having big-mouth Popsworthy as mayor would make town meetings even more painful
than they already were.

“A write-in
candidacy for Quade Gardiner?” said Murdock. “He’d make one heck of a better
mayor than Horace.”
 

Buffy listened
with apparent interest. At least she wasn’t angry the way she’d been at dinner
last night when he said it was his responsibility to provide for his daughter.
Carter hoped her mellow mood would last.

He’d ask her
to marry him later tonight. As soon as he could get her alone, as far as
possible from Zeppa’s prying ears.

And then, she
gave him a break. When it was time to drive Murdock home, Buffy
offered—completely on her own initiative—to ride along. He considered that a
good omen.

“We’d be glad
to have you,” he said. “Mazeppa, would you mind watching the little one?”

Asking Zeppa
to baby-sit was like asking Horace Popsworthy to deliver a campaign speech.
“Just try to stop me!” she said.

“Much
obliged.” Carter was amazed at how normal his voice sounded. His throat felt
thick, and not because of the ice cream, either. He was suffering from the
roller-coaster emotions of a man about to toss the most important dice of his
life.

Murdock
fetched his Stetson from a peg and walked outside with Carter and Buffy. “I
never realized what a fine woman Mazeppa is when she cleans up,” he said.

“Don’t get too
friendly,” Carter warned. “Next thing you know, she’ll move into your barn.”

“Still, she
has good sense.”

“I like her,”
Buffy said.

“And she was
right about me buying a sedan,” his father said. “It’ll be the safest thing for
Allie.” The rest of the way to Murdock’s, they discussed cars. There was a
sales lot in Groundhog Station, and Carter promised to check the website and
find out what they had available.

At the ranch
house, George wagged his tail lazily in greeting, while Lucas uttered a sound
halfway between a snarl and a whine. Carter had never known a dog so quick to
hedge its bets between trying to scare them off and begging them not to hurt
him.

“You say
good-night to that little girl for me.” Murdock swung down from the truck.

“I sure will,”
Buffy sang out.

Carter’s hands
went cold as he drove away. He had Buffy to himself, the stars were dancing
overhead and there might never be another moment as perfect as this. “There’s a
place I’m fond of, where we could sit and talk,” he said. “How about it?”

“Sure,” she
said. “Whatever you like.”

Another
positive omen, he thought. And for extra good luck, a couple of falling stars
flashed by, although that might be some fool on the outskirts of town shooting
off bottle rockets.

Carter hoped
he’d feel like shooting off bottle rockets too in a few minutes.

Buffy couldn’t
believe her good luck. She’d been seeking a chance to tell Carter she planned
to stay in Nowhere Junction, and he’d just offered her the perfect opportunity
to talk to him alone.

Talking might
not be enough, however, she mused as she studied his profile. At the pool, he’d
ducked an opportunity to kiss her. Maybe he’d simply been acting like a
gentleman. But it was also possible that he didn’t find her attractive.

A kiss would
reveal whether he was developing feelings for her, and she needed to know.
There was zero point in sticking around Nowhere Junction otherwise, because she
hadn’t seen another man who held a candle to him. Well, that Quade fellow might
be accounted good-looking, Buffy supposed, but she preferred Carter’s
easy-going kindness.

After they
took his father home, they followed the highway back toward town. She was
searching for the right words, a diplomatic way to suggest they pull over and
make out, when Carter turned onto a gravel road. The truck bumped along toward
a meandering line of trees silhouetted against the moonbright sky.

“Is there a
stream over there?” Buffy might not be an expert on countryside, but trees
didn’t just line up that way without a reason.

“Hidden
Creek,” he confirmed. “You can’t see it until you get real close, although the
trees give it away.”

Hidden Creek,
she mused. The town was following its tradition of naming things for precisely
what they were. “Do you go there often?”

Carter slowed,
easing onto a rutted dirt path that ran alongside the trees. “Not since high
school.”

“You and Amy?”
she guessed.

He ducked his
head. “A few times. Nothing much happened, except for her smoking cigarettes.”

“Didn’t you
and she ever... ?” Buffy supposed it was none of her business, but if people
spent their whole lives minding their own business, they’d die of boredom.

“You mean...?”
He didn’t finish his question, either. He didn’t need to. “Heck, no! We were
kids.”

“That’s when
people usually do things in places like this,” she pointed out.

“Not me!”

Was he angry?
She hoped she hadn’t spoiled her chance of a little cuddling.

A heavy branch
scraped the windshield and, for a chilling moment, she feared they were about
to plunge into the unseen creek. Instead they pulled through an opening in the
screen of trees and stopped in a clearing.

After Carter
silenced the engine, Buffy heard the creek rustling very close. “You can’t get
much more alone than this,” she said hopefully.

He sat staring
into the dark. Buffy longed to stroke the muscular chest she’d been visualizing
ever since she saw him with the baby last night. She didn’t quite dare, not
until she was able to read his mood.

A ray of
moonlight penetrated the branches and transformed his gray eyes to silver.
Resting one arm along the back of the seat, Carter studied her. “You sure are a
pretty lady.”

He was finally
making his move! Buffy waited for more. And waited. And waited.

He seemed
content to watch her in the moonlight. Oddly she found his restraint more
exciting than a dozen polished caresses.

“The first
time I saw you at that hotel, I imagined you could see right inside me,” he
murmured after a seemingly endless series of nanoseconds had passed. “Like you
could read my mind.”

“I wish I
could.” She meant it.

“Then, when
you landed here in Nowhere Junction, I was kind of leery,” Carter went on. “I
couldn’t figure out what you were here for.”

“It’s not a
secret any more.” She wished he’d hurry up and kiss her.

“I couldn’t
believe it when you told me you were divorced,” he said. “How could a man give
you up? You’re smart and fun to be around. You have incredibly soft hair, and
those big green eyes, and a great body, although I guess a man shouldn’t
mention that sort of thing, should he?”

“That depends
on what he plans to do about it.” As Buffy scooted closer, Carter’s knee brushed
her thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through her. His mouth looked firm,
with a self-conscious twist that made it eminently kissable. Instinctively she
ran the tip of her tongue over her lips.