A Maverick's Heart. Roz Denny Fox

almost time to go home.”

      The lanky kid dragged his pack into the café. “Mom, tomorrow can I go to ball practice? Coach told Kemper if I watch, I’ll learn what Little Leaguers do.”

      She paused. “It’s supposed to rain. If so, won’t the coach cancel practice again?”

      Three of the women who’d been at the meeting said goodbye. Tawana Whitefeather still stood at the kitchen pass-through chatting with Lila’s mother.

      Waving to those leaving, Lila still saw her son’s pout that ran his many cheek freckles together. “I’m never gonna get to play ball on Kemper’s team, am I?”

      “Well, I asked Kemper’s dad about costs. We’re earning some extra money what with Zeke Maxwell’s brother and his other friends staying at our B and B for Zeke’s wedding. I may be able to swing the fees.”

      He perked right up. “Yippee!”

      Lila chewed her bottom lip. “It’s not yippee-time yet, Rory. You need new equipment. And with games being in Wolf Point, there’s a matter of transportation.”

      “I can ride my bike,” he said brightly.

      “No way. You’re only to ride your bike from the school to Memaw’s café. Don’t even think about riding farther. I’ll pay gas for someone to drive you. But, honey, cash is still tight, so for now it’s only a maybe.”

      Rory’s shoulders slumped. “I wish my daddy hadn’t died,” he mumbled. “He’d buy baseball stuff for me and teach me to bat and catch and throw like Kemper and his daddy.”

      “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry, too. I’ll do my best to work something out.” Crossing to him, Lila tried to kiss his thick auburn waves, but he ducked. With a light brush of his cowlick, she finished wiping the last table then joined Tawana.

      “Lila, what time is Zeke’s brother taking the other groomsmen to the airport?”

      “All I know is they’re checking out after breakfast.”

      “Did Hunter ask about booking a room? He’s planning to come back after he gets his permanent prosthetic leg.”

      Glancing at her friend, Lila reeled a bit, but hoped she hid her envy. First, Myra had found someone to love. Now, Tawana may have met someone special.

      The pretty Native American feigned innocence. “Didn’t I mention he and I plan to keep in touch? We hope to meet in DC if Jewell gets us an appointment to see the Natural Resource Committee about our snowy owl preserve. Hunter’s VA is near there. Well, it’s late. I’d better run. Thanks for providing a meeting place, Doreen,” she called through the opening.

      “I love having you all while I wait for my dough to rise. I have four pans of cinnamon rolls ready for the morning rush. Now I can lock up and go up to bed.”

      “It’s raining again,” Rory announced. He had his face pressed to the glass of the front door.

      “Drive carefully, you two,” Doreen said. “Rain makes roads slick.” She came out of the kitchen.

      Lila skirted Tawana to hug her mother. “Don’t worry, Mom. You know all the ranchers in the area are asleep by now. We’ll be the only ones on the highway.”

      Tawana picked up the sweatshirt she’d worn into the diner. “Yuk. Still wet.”

      “You have the farthest to drive,” Doreen said. “I’ll run upstairs and get you a loaner. You can return it next time you’re in town.”

      “I’ll go, Mom.” So saying, Lila dashed off.

      Doreen went to the door. Reaching over her grandson, she slid open the dead bolt.

      “Auntie Tawana, are you going home with Mama and me?” Rory gazed expectantly at one of his faux aunts.

      She laughed. “No, slugger. I have my pickup.” She accepted the fresh sweatshirt from Lila, who had reappeared.

      “Mama, she called me ‘slugger.’” Rory beamed. “Did you tell everybody how much I want to play baseball?”

      “Honey bunny, like you didn’t tell everyone within earshot at Auntie Myra’s wedding reception.”

      “Oh, yeah.” His grin widened, but he looked a bit sheepish. “Some of the men there asked why Kemper and me want to play ball instead of ride in the kids’ rodeo. Why do they think rodeo is funner?”

      “More fun, not funner, Rory. And it’s Kemper and I, not me,” Lila corrected as they readied to follow Tawana outside.

      “Well, we have more pro rodeo riders than baseball players in these parts,” Doreen said. “It’s something to consider.”

      Rory’s face fell again.

      Seeing his crestfallen expression, Lila rose to his defense. “Mama, I’m all for him choosing what he wants to do. Most schools have ball teams. Anyway, by the time he’s grown, who knows what he’ll want to do.”

      “True.” Doreen nodded. “I want Rory to be happy, but I especially want him to stay out of the mines.”

      “Lord, yes.” Lila didn’t need the subtle reminder that her dad and her husband had both died in mine accidents. “G’night. Wait, Ma...do you need me to work the breakfast shift? I could use the time to wash linens and tidy the rooms. Three of the guys are checking out of the Owl’s Nest tomorrow and I’ve got two couples who stayed with me last year booked for trout fishing this weekend. I need to turn the rooms around fast.”

      “Take the morning off. Tell the fishermen if they catch any, I’ll buy them to serve as a weekend dinner special.”

      Lila flipped up her hood. “Okay, but they may be catch-and-release fishermen.”

      “If not, my offer’s on the table.”

      Doreen closed up as Lila skipped over a deep puddle to unlock her old Jeep Cherokee, making sure Tawana’s pickup had started before she climbed in.

      “What’s ‘catch and release’?” Rory asked once he settled into the backseat on the passenger side. It was always his chosen spot.

      She checked to see he’d buckled in before firing the engine. “There are people who love to fish, but either don’t want to see fish die or they have no means of keeping them fresh to cook. So they turn them back into the lake or river.”

      “Um, I guess that’s good. But it seems silly.”

      Lila smiled as she left the town behind. “Fly-fishing takes skill. And let’s not say anything negative, since fishermen rent our rooms and that pays our bills.”

      “Okay. I’m tired. How long before we get home?”

      Lila heard his yawn. “Ten or fifteen minutes.”

      Rory fell silent and Lila thought he had gone to sleep—which left her free to worry about whether she was a bad mother for making him stay with her at work. Since kindergarten, Kemper Barnes had been Rory’s best friend. Rory used to go home with him to play or to study until the café closed and Lila could pick him up. Now that Kemper was in Little League, Rory had to come to the café. And on nights she met with the Artsy Ladies, he was stuck there late.

      As she’d told her mom, the highway was empty tonight. It wasn’t long before she turned onto the paved lane that led to their ranch.

      Suddenly Rory shouted, “Mom, stop! You’re going to hit Ghost and...and a man!”

      Her nerves jangled—she’d thought Rory was asleep. His shout had her stomping hard on the brake pedal as she glimpsed a flash of white off to her right. The Cherokee hit a puddle of standing water, and although she’d slowed for the turn, she felt the front end kite. Her back wheels spun like racing slicks seconds before the brakes grabbed. It all happened so fast and jerkily, her head smacked the left-side window hard. Briefly all went dim and she heard