His smile stretched. “You think Old Man Drummond did it?”

“Unfortunately, no. But again, I’d like to pick your brain, if you’ll let me.”

“Figuratively, I hope,” he said with a wink.

“You hush now, Todd,” Lula said, then turned to me. “Of course you can drop by and talk to him. How about ten?”

I turned to Bingham and waited for him to confirm his agreement. He gave a slight nod, his gaze pinned on me.

“Well, all righty then,” I said, my attention fully on the baby. “Before I take these plates back, can I get you anything else?”

“I think we’re good,” Lula said, then smiled. “Do you want to hold her?”

I sucked in a lungful of air. “Me?”

I glanced around to see if anyone needed me.

“They’ll be fine,” Lula said, turning toward me. “She needs her godmother to hold her.”

“What?”

“I want you to be her second godmother. Greta’s one, of course, but you were the only one in this town to go lookin’ for me. If you’d help me like that after just meetin’ me, I can only imagine what you’d do to help Bea.”

“I…I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s why we came in tonight. I should have told you sooner…” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “But Todd and me couldn’t see eye to eye on some of the people we picked. Beatrice is being baptized this Sunday at church.”

“Oh,” I said, still in shock. Being a godmother came with responsibilities, but they were usually ceremonial. I knew of very few godparents who ever did anything beyond giving their godchild a birthday gift every year and bragging about being a godparent. Which, thankfully, made it feel less morally reprehensible to accept and then turn around and leave Drum… because if I didn’t accept, I’d have a whole lot of explaining to do to Bingham. “I’m honored. Do I need to do anything? I’ve never been a godmother before.”

“Just show up at the church,” Lula said. “And promise to look after my baby should anything happen to Todd or me. And Greta. She’s first in line.”

Bingham and Lula were a whole lot more likely to come to harm than Greta, so at least I’d have her as a buffer. Plus, Max and Wyatt would surely be first in line, given they were Lula’s half-brothers.

“Do Max and Wyatt know about the baptism?” I asked, and Bingham released a grunt.

“Not yet,” Lula said, lowering her voice. “We’re asking them both to be godfathers, but we haven’t talked to them yet.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” I’d wondered if I was the person she and Bingham had argued over including, but now I suspected the dispute had been about Lula’s half-brothers. Bingham and Max tolerated each other with a live-and-let-live philosophy, but he and Wyatt couldn’t stand each other.

“Here,” she said, “you need to hold her.” Then she lifted the swaddled baby toward me and placed her in my arms.

She weighed next to nothing and looked so fragile I was afraid I’d hurt her, but she stared up into my face as I cradled her to my chest, and my heart melted.

“She likes you,” Lula said.

“She likes everyone,” Bingham grunted.

“She’s so beautiful, Lula,” I said, falling in love with her already.

“She’s a good baby,” Lula said with obvious pride.

Bingham kept quiet, but his guarded gaze was firmly on me and Beatrice.

Ruth was a few tables down, and I motioned her over to meet the baby since she’d asked Lula to bring her around. She stepped over cautiously, staring at the baby as though she were a space alien.

“Do you want to hold her?” Lula asked Ruth.

“Me?” Ruth asked, taking a step back.

“Yeah, of course you.” She got out of the booth and took the baby from me. “Carly, can you ask Max and Wyatt to come over?” She shot me a wink.

“Yeah,” I said, reluctant to give up the baby. At the same time, I didn’t want to be anywhere near them when Lula popped her question.

Max was watching me as I slid behind the bar. “You got to hold the baby, huh?”

“She’s so sweet. It’s a wonder we got Lula to come work at all. I’d probably just sit around holding her all day.”

He gave me an inquisitive look. “You got baby fever, Carly?”

“Someday,” I said, working to keep my voice level. I suspected that “someday” would never come, and the reminder stung. “Say, Lula wants to talk to you and Wyatt.”

“In the back room?”

“No, over at her table.”

“Wyatt too?”

“Yep. The both of you. I’ll cover the bar while you go over.” I laughed at his perplexed expression. “But you have to be the one to tell Wyatt.”

He snorted. “Fine. I’m not workin’ on any orders, so nothin’ for you to do at the moment.”

He sidled over to Wyatt to relay the message. Wyatt gave me a questioning look, then steeled his back and followed his brother.

Marco had changed clothes and was sitting at the end of the bar next to Jerry, so I wandered over to check on them. Marco had a basket of wings and fries, and a glass of iced tea, which suggested that Max had put in the order for him.

“How’re you boys doin’ over here?” I asked.

“Lula’s baby is cute,” Jerry said.

“She’s precious.” Even I heard the wistful tone in my voice.

Marco gave me a concerned look, and I smiled.

He smiled back, the smile that lit up his face and made his eyes dance like he was the happiest man in the world, only right now his eyes were more subdued. Deeper than happy.

Content.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, catching me off guard. Foolish butterflies. Marco and I couldn’t be anything more to each other than we already were. But it was hard to remember that when he was looking at me that way, especially in the wake of holding Lula’s baby and thinking about all that I’d planned for and lost.

“How are you doin’?” he asked quietly. “Really?”

“I’m okay. Eager to go home with you, though.”

Jerry glanced back and forth between us. “Tell me again why you two aren’t datin’?”

I laughed and took a step back. “Because we’re just friends. Sleeping together would only screw everything up.”

Jerry shook his head, muttering something about not understanding the youth of today.

The rest of the evening flew by, especially since a bunch of the construction workers came in for late dinners but didn’t linger to keep drinking. I called Hank when things settled down around nine to tell him I was spending the night with Marco and wouldn’t be coming home.

“There’s some breakfast casserole in the freezer,” I said. “Wrapped in foil. Just set it in the fridge tonight, then put the whole thing in the oven for a half hour at 300 degrees.”

“I’m perfectly capable of feedin’ myself,” he grumped. “Did Wyatt stick close to you today?”

“Closer than I liked. Why on earth did you force that man to agree to a blood price?”