Chapter 15
15
No one goes straight to happiness
after a breakup.
Estelle
“ B aylin?” Teddy called out.
“Miss O’Casey?” from another voice she didn’t recognize.
“Are you in there?” from yet another.
She ignored the shouting and the begging and the caterwauling on her front porch.
“It’s our fault,” a fourth male voice whined. “We forced him to hang out with us.”
“He’s Teddy Gwenn,” a pathetic human crowed.
As if I care.
But she did, if for no other reason than to get the infantile mob off her property.
And because Teddy had hurt her.
She’d let herself fall under his larger-than-life spell…let herself believe in love and romance and happy endings.
He’d made a laughingstock of her, and it hurt.
But no one could be as huge an idiot as each of the morons at her door.
It swung open, and Baylin glared daggers at the grown men acting like children in the throes of temper tantrums.
They fell silent, shuffling to attention.
“Are y’all drunk?” she demanded.
“No!” Daniel Davis answered. “We took Teddy to Scooter’s for a beer, but that’s it. One round. I promise.”
“One beer required—” Her words hung in the air as she looked over her shoulder at the grandfather clock in the entry. “…five hours to drink?”
“Only one beer, but many, many baseball stories. The old-timers joined in, sharing tales of when the 1962 Wolf Pack won the Oklahoma State Championship?—”
“And when the 1980 team—” someone else piped in.
“I don’t need a play-by-play.” Baylin interrupted.
“Please don’t be mad at him,” a powerful voice intoned before Max Davenport stepped into the light. “He didn’t have much of an option; there’s no gracious way to bow out in that situation.”
“Of all the people,” Baylin said, shaking her head. “Does Janie Lyn know you’re out here acting like a fool?”
The professional football player — living legend, more like it — chuckled. “Oh yeah,” he said in a voice dripping with love for his sweet wife, who Baylin had come to adore through quilt guild meetings and projects. “It’s rare I get to be part of a fan club. It was a special night.”
“Well, I’m glad it was a banner evening out. What you dois none of my business. That includes Teddy…e xcept for the ear-splitting cacophony taking place on my porch.” Baylin prayed her words of wisdom sounded more convincing to the men than they did to her own ears. “You’re all welcome to continue the party… in the barn. Just try not to scare my horses, please.”
Baylin nodded and waved good night . She stepped back to close and lock the front door, but Teddy put his hand in the way, forcing her to acknowledge him.
“Can we talk?”
“No.”
“Bay—”
“Tomorrow’s another long day; I’d like to go to bed.”
She looked anywhere except into his eyes. She just couldn’t.
It didn’t help much. The way he studied her sent cold chills and heat waves across her skin, a physical embodiment of the diametrical tugs on her emotions when she thought of Teddy.
The answer? Don’t think about him at all.
“Good night,” she said in a tone that could only be described as dismissing.
He got the message and stepped away from the door frame.
Of their own accord, her eyes lifted to his face as she shut the door. The granite set of his jaw and the dark depths of his beautiful green eyes displayed blatant sadness and unveiled concern in their stormy depths.