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He noticed his grandmother hadn’t taken her usual place on the porch swing but stood in the shade, her posture as ramrod straight as always. Only the slight clenching of her arthritic fingers gave away her tension and confirmed his suspicions. “Did the computer really match us?”
“Yes.”
“But you knew ahead of time what the results would be.” Her silence was all the confirmation he needed and he sighed. “Did you fudge the data, old gal?”
“No.”
“Was I really a test case?”
Again there was a long, pregnant pause. “Let’s just say Wanda suggested I undelete your profile,” she admitted reluctantly.
Ty couldn’t help it. He laughed, the sound tinged with irony. “She always was better at matching people than that damned computer.”
“Actually, she disagrees with it this time.”
He turned and looked at his grandmother, arching his brow in question. “How’s that?”
“She says the computer’s wrong. It’s not a ninety-nine percent match.” Willie smiled complacently. “It’s a full one hundred percent fer-sure fire perfect fit.”
Progress Report
The results aren’t quite what I expected. Seems I’m stuck with The Mountain for my experiment. Don’t know if that’s going to work out because Mom doesn’t like Ty. (He sure likes her, though!) But since I don’t have any other choice, I’m going ahead with my plan. I’ll see what happens after their first date. If it doesn’t go well, I’ll have to set Plan B into motion.
Chapter Three
Final Countdown to First Experiment
Ty called. He promised to stop by today. Something about Mom’s application form. I’m not happy about this part. Ithink he’s going to have her look it over and rerun it if it’s not right. But if they do that, Imay be dealing with somebody different and... Well, to be honest, Isorta like Ty. Idon’t think he’d be the type to leave Mom when the going gets tough. So, if I choose him to be my dad, Imight have to find a way to manipulate the results if they rerun the form. Perhaps a quick phone call’s in order....
Ty saw Cassidythe instant he stepped into the small café. She stood beside a table, ahuge, overloaded tray in one hand, afolding stand in the other. With a practiced maneuver, she snapped the stand open and started to lower the tray onto it. Halfway there, she froze. Her head jerked upward and her gaze swept the room before landing on him. She’d sensed his presence, he realized with satisfaction. Good. Her awareness of him was as intense as his forher.
As it turned out, it wasn’t good. Her eyes widened, sweet vulnerability betraying her before she could veil her reaction. The tray wobbled ominously and he caught the subtle hitch of her breath as a load of plates slid to one side. Damn. He should have remembered she was a tad on the uncoordinated side and not surprised her—at least not at such a critical juncture.
“Cassidy!” His voice cut through the hum of conversation. “Watch it, sweetheart!”
With a gasp, she tried to right the tray, but it was too late. With almost poetic grace, first one plate, then another somersaulted off her tray. Agreasy Tex-Mex burger, fries, aplastic glass brimming with tea and heaps of creamy coleslaw competed with each other to be the first to land on her customer. Aparticularly aggressive burger won, splatting dead center in his lap. The upper half of the bun spun through the air before lighting on the patty, perching there like a cockedhat.
“Oh, good gravy!” Cassidy dropped the now empty tray onto the stand. She started to reach for the gently steaming burger, then hesitated, apparently thinking better of it. “I’m so sorry.”
The customer stared in disbelief at his grease-soaked lap for a split second, than leaped to his feet with a yelp of pain. “It’s burning!” he shouted, slapping at the front of his trousers. Clumps of food tumbled to the floor, including the offending burger. He glared at her from beneath a cap of dripping coleslaw. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s burning. Do something!”
Springing into action, Cassidy snatched a pitcher of ice water out of the hands of a nearby waitress and tossed the contents toward the circle of grease. Ice cubes ricocheted off the man from chin to knees.
Ty winced. That had tohurt.
“Is that better?” she asked. “Is it still burning?”
“Better? Better!” With an enraged shriek, he erupted from his booth. Tripping over the tray stand, his loafers shot out from under him and he added himself to the debris of dishes and silverware littering the floor.
Shouldn’t have worn loafers, Ty decided judiciously, tipping his Stetson to the back of his head. They were ridiculous footwear. Any sane individual would have known that. He folded his arms across his chest and waited to see what further entertainment Cassidy’s customer would offer. It wasn’t long in coming. The man flailed around on the floor some, making sure his backside was as thoroughly soaked with food and grease as his front side. He also struggled hard to talk. His jaw ground away like he’d bit down on a particularly tough piece of jerky.
“Spit it out,” an old-timer encouraged cheerfully from a nearby table.
The man flopped around some more, his face turning an interesting shade of purplish red. Finally, his voice kicked in, blasting out at full volume. “I’m going to kill you, you stupid...”
Oops. Entertainment over. Ty didn’t wait to hear anymore.
While the man tossed dishes aside in an attempt to regain his footing, Ty loped over to Cassidy. Sweeping her safely behind him, he leaned down and hauled the man to his feet. “Easy does it, friend. It was an accident. The lady apologized, so I suggest you let it go.”
