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he couldn’t enjoy holding one now and again. With a smile, he swayed lazily along with the music, comforted someplace deep inside by the round softness against his chest.
    * * *
     
    “Oh, good grief,” Roxanne said as she pushed in the door of the bar.
    “What?” Mattie asked, coming in behind her.
    “Look at that.”
    “What?” Mattie scanned the room. It was crowded. That was good. Not all locals; equally good. There were a few people dancing, and a couple of pool games going on in one corner. Mattie smiled. Excellent. But she didn’t really know what disgusted Roxanne so much. “What?” she repeated.
    Roxanne stepped aside and lifted her chin in the direction of the jukebox. Two couples danced close together on the little cleared section of floor, a common enough sight.
    And then Mattie saw him. Zeke. Swaying gently in time with the music, a baby cradled in the crook of his arm. He wore a sleeveless black T-shirt that left his powerful, muscular arms bare, and the tiny head of the baby looked as if it could be crushed if Zeke bent his elbow.
    Except there was such gentleness in his hold, and his head bent over the sleeping child to murmur sweet nothings. Mattie watched his mouth move.
    Yesterday in the restaurant, she’d seen his sex appeal and roughness. At her house, she’d seen his danger. This morning, at the river, she’d seen his beauty and teasing, and again that danger.
    Of all of them, the tenderness she saw now was the most compelling. And terrifying.
    With some alarm, she looked at Roxanne. “I don’t think I want to stay here, after all.”
    “Oh, don’t be silly. Where are we going to go? The Plaza?” She grabbed Mattie’s arm and pulled her into the room. “I’m sick of being cooped up in my house.”
    Mattie kept her eyes averted as they settled in a booth and ordered a beer. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but beer and Kismet seemed to go together, and there were rules about the game Jamie had taught her. A beer in hand was important.
    From the corner of her eye, she watched Zeke take the baby back to its mother, then take a seat at the bar. “You think he did that for effect?” Roxanne asked.
    “What?”
    “Danced with a baby.”
    Mattie frowned. “Why would he do it on purpose?”
    “Well, it’s a known fact that women can’t resist a man who likes children. Maybe he’s got his eye on the bartender.”
    Mattie shrugged. She’d already spent too much time thinking about Zeke Shephard, as it was; she didn’t want to get drawn in now. Deliberately, she shifted to get a better view of the pool tables.
    A tourist with a sunburned nose played cheerfully, sipping a beer and nodding his head in time with the music. A recreational player, and probably a father with kids to get back home, too. No good.
    His opponent was thirtyish, a local who worked on the road crew. He smiled at her. Mattie waved. He was single, with plenty of money to spend, and he probably dropped at least a third of his paycheck in this bar every week. He also played well, with honed concentration and a sharp break.
    Roxanne tapped her arm. “I didn’t come here with you to talk to myself, you know,” she said curtly.
    “I’m sorry,” Mattie said pleasantly, as if life and death did not hang in the balance. “I just like pool. Do you play?”
    “A little. Not too well.” She sipped her beer with a dark glance toward the bar. “How do you think he got that tattoo?”
    “Are we back to Zeke again?”
    Roxanne grinned, and the strained look of peevishness disappeared. “Yes. Do you think I can’t see how carefully you’re ignoring him?” She shook her head. “I can’t believe what a dress and a haircut did for you.”
    Mattie touched her hair, pleased with the sleek swinging feel of her new cut. “You like it?”
    “It looks great.” She eyed Mattie’s new dress, too. “And I love the dress. With a body like that, I’d wear skintight every day.”
    Mattie shrugged. She never wore skintight