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“I…I don’t…know. I mean, it was dark, and I was….”
“You were what?”
Maya swallowed hard. “I was…drunk.”
Vidalia blinked. “How drunk?” When Maya didn’t answer, she slammed her hands to her thighs. “Maya, I’d have never let you leave with him if I thought you’d had more than a beer or two!”
“I just…wasn’t thinking last night. God, Mom, I don’t know if he used protection or not!”
Closing her eyes slowly, her mother sighed. “I think that’s something you might want to find out, child.”
Nodding hard, Maya got out of bed and looked down to see that she was still wearing the same clothes she’d had on last night. Her white blouse had mud stains here and there, and her jeans were wrinkled. But there was a new addition to her ensemble. Caleb’s denim shirt. “I’ll shower, and then I’ll go talk to him. He’s staying over at the boarding house.” Then she paused, and a smile tugged at her lips. “He said he wanted to see me again.”
Her mother bit her lip, saying nothing.
“I really like this man, Mom. I mean…he’s not what I thought I wanted…not well-off or respectable or any of that…but there’s something about him.”
Sighing softly, Vidalia managed a smile that looked shaky. “Well now, that’s nice, hon. That’s real nice. You go shower now. Go on.”
Nodding, Maya hurried into the bathroom.
* * *
She used the hair dryer, so her brown hair was bouncier and seemed thicker than usual. She wore a pastel blue dress with an A-line skirt and a tab collar. And she even added a hint of makeup, something she so seldom did that she had to borrow it from Selene’s room. She looked in the mirror and nodded in approval. She looked perfect. Respectable. Good. Even pretty. If she had time, she thought, she would bake some cookies or something, to show off how good she was at that. Cooking was something she loved and was very good at. But that would have to wait. Surely Caleb would be staying on for a little while. Even though she’d been drinking last night, she’d still felt something—something extraordinary—between them. He had to have felt it, too.
He had to.
She took the beat-up family station wagon and drove into town, taking her time, humming along with the country song on the radio. Then she pulled into the tiny lot at the boarding house. And the first whisper of doubt crept along her spine when she didn’t see his rusty pickup parked there.
Still, she got out and went through the front door to the big screened in front porch, and across that to the inner door, where she rang the bell.
Ida-May Peabody answered in a moment, greeting her with raised eyebrows. “Why, Maya Brand. Aren’t you looking nice today! Whatever brings you here first thing in the morning?”
“A guest of yours…left something at the saloon last night,” Maya said, holding up the shirt “I’ve come by to return it.”
Mrs. Peabody blinked. “But hon, I’ve only got two folks staying here. Maddy Sumner’s cousin, Lois, who’s here for the wedding, and Ol’ Hank.”
She shook her head. “This man would have just checked in late last night,” she said. “Caleb Cain?”
The woman shook her head.
Fighting a rising sense of unease, Maya rushed on. “He’s about so tall, dark hair, blue eyes, early thirties or so….” But Mrs. Peabody just kept on shaking her head from side to side, very slowly. “Are you sure?” she asked, almost brokenly.
“Sorry, Maya. No one like that has been near the place.”
Closing her eyes slowly, drawing a deep breath, Maya said, “Thanks, anyway, Mrs. Peabody. I must have misunderstood him. Sorry to have bothered you.”
“No trouble, dear.” Mrs. Peabody closed the door and left Maya standing there, holding the stranger’s shirt and feeling a little bit used. A little bit betrayed. And a whole lot disappointed.
“I have no one to blame but myself,” she muttered, drumming up the will to turn and walk back to her car. She got in, tossed the shirt into the passenger side and told herself she shouldn’t be crushed over this. She should chalk it up to experience, hope to God there would be no life-threatening or life-altering repercussions, and move on.
She should.
So why did she have the feeling that wasn’t going to be as easy as it ought to be?
* * *
Three weeks later, her mother dragged her to an appointment with Dr. Sheila Stone, an ob-gyn in the nearby town of Tucker Lake. And while she knew these things were necessary, Maya hated every second of it all the same. Still, the doctor—a stern, handsome redhead with close-cropped hair and wire-rim glasses—took blood and urine samples, and subjected Maya to a thorough exam and a handful of advice.
