Chapter 12
Chapter 12
S ully hadn’t heard from Poppy in a few days. Their last meeting ended on a weird note, and he felt the need to give her some space for a bit. Or maybe he needed space. He wasn’t certain. All he knew was that things with her were going to be more complicated than he first realized.
His job was busy, but he liked it that way. It kept him from thinking too much. Most of his day was spent on patrol, but occasionally he was in the office working on the Cortez investigation. They were so close, he could feel it, could sense the impending crack in the case. If they kept up pressure on Diego Cortez, the new heir apparent, they were sure to get something usable.
Sheila, his secretary, set a plate on his desk. “Thank you,” Sully said distractedly. She was only a decade older than him, but she was the motherly sort, always making sure he and everyone else in the office ate and took proper care of themselves. He took a bite of whatever it was almost absently and then set aside his paperwork and did a double take. Before him sat a massive pecan roll, dripping with sticky syrup and overflowing with pecan halves. Sully devoured it in four bites and then went to find some answers.
It took him a while to track Sheila down; the woman was seemingly always on the move. “Sheila, did you make that sticky bun?” he asked, an appropriate amount of awe in his tone. Her former homemade baked goods had been, er, lacking to say the least.
She laughed. “Are you joking, Sully? You know I can’t cook like that. I got it from the new bakery.”
He stared, his brain stuttering over the information. “New bakery?” Surely not, there was no way she could open a whole bakery here, no way one would survive.
Sheila gave him an exasperated once over. “Child, come out of your own world once in a while and take a look around. There is a new bakery inside Huck’s .”
“Inside Huck’s ,” he repeated dumbly.
“Inside Huck’s ,” she affirmed, tilting her head at him. “I might have thought you would know this already, seeing as how it’s Poppy Dunbar who opened it.”
“Uh, no,” he murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed over his lack of foreknowledge. His almost omniscient secretary understood there was something between him and Poppy, though she couldn’t yet puzzle together what it was. Come to think of it, neither could he. How could she open an entire bakery without even telling him? Then again, he hadn’t exactly reached out to her since that last night at his house, when she had seemed to read his thoughts about her. “How’s it doing?”
“Like gangbusters. I mean, you tasted it and you know how we feel about our pecan rolls here. She has other things, too. It’s all the buzz in town, both her appearance and the new food. She’s sold out every day she’s been in business.”
“She has?” Sully said, shocked.
Sheila nodded. “Boy, maybe you need to get on over to the diner for lunch today.”
“Maybe I do,” he agreed.
“Have the pie. Trust me.”
“I’ve had Huck’s pie,” Sully said, grimacing.
Sheila rolled her eyes. “Sometimes you are really dense, Sullivan. It’s not Huck’s pie anymore. It’s Poppy’s pie, and it will change your world. Much like the girl herself, if you take my hint.”
“The rocks outside in the driveway take your hint, Sheila,” he said.
“Well, then, let’s hope you’re smarter than a rock. You missed out on the sister. Don’t let this one get away from you, too.”
“It’s not that simple,” he said.
“Honey, it never is,” she replied, turning her back on him and resuming her copies.
Sully wandered back to his office and tried to make his mind focus on work, but he couldn’t. He stared at the far wall, thinking. Mostly he thought about Poppy, and he thought about himself. He had been a heel. Again, this time in thought, if not in deed. He asked her to come here, and then when she arrived he had second thoughts, selfish thoughts about how her presence and pregnancy would reflect on him. So she struggled; so she was messy. So what? It reflected worse on him if she was those things and he didn’t take care of her than if she was those things and he did take care of her. He made up his mind that, no matter what, she would be a vital part of his life, regardless of who she was or what she did. It was the sort of commitment he thought he made when he found out she was pregnant, but it turned out that time had been in theory only. This time he meant it in practice. Poppy was his responsibility. He would not let her down again.
With that resolved, he put on his hat and walked to the diner.
Huck’s had been the same for as long as Sully could remember. When Huck assumed it from the former owner, whose name Sully couldn’t remember, he had left all the decorations in place, swapping only the sign out front proclaiming his name instead of the last guy’s. The decorations were and had always been a faded assortment of Texas paraphernalia. But now the far corner had been transformed by a colorful display of glass cake stands. They were fresh and pretty, much like the woman herself who stood behind the counter wearing one of her floral dresses, her hair held back in a scarf and tucked to one side, tumbling gently over one shoulder.
Sully was so focused on her it took him a minute to realize she was immersed in a smiling conversation with one of Cal’s ranch hands, Jonah, the eldest son of his foreman, Jinx. One day soon Jonah would likely take over for Jinx as foreman. He was a good guy, and Sully had always liked him. Not today, though.
He strode to the counter and stood close beside Jonah, waiting to be noticed. Jonah did so eventually and jumped slightly as if he’d been caught, which he had. “Hey there, Sully,” he said, adding a sheepish smile.
“Hey, Jonah. Fancy seeing you here in the middle of the morning on a workday,” Sully said, a not so pointed reminder that he should be far away on his ranch.
“Cal sent me for a baked goods run. Bailey requested a few dozen chocolate chip cookies,” he said, holding a box aloft.
“Her favorite,” Poppy added helpfully.
“It would seem you have them now. Give the Ridges my best on your return,” Sully said.
“Will do,” Jonah replied. To Poppy he added. “Thank you for these. Good talking to you.”
“You, too. See you on Sunday.”
“See you,” Jonah said, a bit perkier now. He tipped his hat before turning to walk out of the diner.
Poppy faced Sully. “Would you like to come around here and lick me, just so everyone makes sure to get the point?”
“Yes, in fact I would,” he said, and she laughed.
“I’m beginning to understand why everyone in this town keeps referring to me as your girl.”
He leaned forward slightly. “You are my girl.”
She leaned forward, too. “I think not, Park Ranger Sullivan.”
He nodded. “It’s factual information. Everyone says so. Have dinner with me and we’ll solidify it in people’s minds.”
She leaned closer and whispered. “I’m sorry, but I have this rule that I can only have dinner with a man when I’m carrying his child.”
He grinned. “It would seem today is my lucky day all around. First I had the world’s best sticky bun, and now I get to have dinner with its creator. PS. Thanks for filling me in on your life. I always appreciate hearing news secondhand from my secretary.”
“I prefer to keep my cards close and, I don’t know, it would seem I’ve spewed a bit too much in your general direction lately.” She busied herself straightening a cake stand that was already perfectly aligned.
He shook his head. “Don’t say that, Poppy. We’re in this together, all the way. I want to know what’s going on with you, and I plan to be involved in everything, even if I have to force my way in like an unwanted puppy.”
“Is there such a thing as an unwanted puppy? Not in my world,” she said.
They shared a smile, and he tapped the case. “I’ve been told to try the pie. Which do you recommend with my lunch?”
She glanced at the clock. “Do you always eat lunch at eleven in the morning, Ranger Sullivan?”
“I was especially hungry today, Baker Poppy.”
“Baker Poppy makes me sound like we live in Salem in the seventeenth century. Might as well call me Goody Housewife and chastise me for dabbling in witchcraft.”
“If that’s what you’re into,” Sully offered, and she laughed.
She reached beneath the counter and presented him with a plate. “Lucky you, this is the last piece of pecan pie.”
It was massive, at least three inches tall and loaded with an overdose of unbroken pecan halves. Sully whistled appreciatively. “I can definitely see why this pie has been the talk of the town. How much do I owe you?”
“Buy me dinner tonight, and we’ll call it even,” she said.
He leaned in to whisper. “I only buy dinner for the women I’ve gotten pregnant.”
“What a creative way of being a tightwad,” she said, and he laughed as he took the pie, purposely brushing his fingers on hers. “You are shamelessly proprietary.”
“I feel a little shame, but mostly for the deprivation I’m causing other men,” he said.
She rolled her eyes. “Are these the lines you actually use on women?”
“Yes. Are you they not working on you?”
“A smidge,” she admitted.
“Well, I have a few hours between now and tonight to see what I can do to crank that up a few notches. Thank you for the pie, Baker Poppy.”
“God be with thee, Ranger Sullivan,” she said, pressing her hands together prayerfully.
Laughing, Sully turned and went to find a seat.