Baily's Irish Dream: Baily's Irish Dream / Czech Mate. Stephanie Doyle

in the small diner off the main street, they ate bagels and drank coffee.

      “Are you sure Miss Roosevelt is okay in that motel room by herself?” Baily asked the question for the third time that morning.

      “Yes,” he said for the third time since they had left her. “I don’t get it. We left her alone in the room last night when we went to dinner. What’s the problem this morning?”

      “That was before the slashed tires,” Baily told him worriedly. “What if someone is stalking you and the tires were just a warning?”

      He hated to admit it, but she wasn’t completely out of line this time. A stolen wallet was one thing, but two flat tires were something else. No one had this kind of luck. Not ready to voice his thoughts on the subject and frighten her quite yet, he turned the question back on her. “How do you know our stalker is after me? Maybe he’s after you.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. Who would want to stalk me? You, on other hand, I can see ticking off a lot of people. And you know what deranged psychos do to poor helpless pets, don’t you? Bad things, that’s what. Not that Theodora wouldn’t put up a good fight considering who she is. So you really think she’s okay?”

      “Yes.”

      “That’s what I thought you’d say,” she mumbled under her breath.

      With a sigh, Daniel put down his coffee. “You know, Red, I’m going to tell you something, and I want you to listen. Your pet, Theodora Roosevelt, is a cat. A cat with ears and a tail. She is not a child.” He only meant to tease her. But he saw an expression cross her face that wasn’t funny at all. Her eyes were serious and sad, and a bit stubborn.

      Knowing that her eyes would betray too much of her emotions, Baily turned her head away from him and pursed her lips. She didn’t trust her voice not to crack with emotion if she told him what she thought of him at this moment.

      Daniel was shocked by the reaction. He expected a stinging retort, a sour look, maybe even a gentle kick under the table just to let him know she didn’t care for his remark. Instead, silence. Something he could never have anticipated from Red. Reaching his hand across the small table, Daniel placed his fingertips under her chin and turned her face to his. The impact of her moist eyes slammed into his gut with the power of a sledgehammer.

      “What did I say?” Daniel asked, not in a defensive tone, but as a legitimate question so he would know never to repeat his mistake again.

      Baily shook off her sudden sadness like a dog shaking off water after a bath. To break the contact of his hand she lifted her chin even higher. Then she took a deep breath to calm her emotions. It was ridiculous. Daniel hadn’t said anything that anyone who has ever known her and her cat for a length of time hadn’t also said. Theodora was a cat. Baily knew that, of course.

      Only there were days. Days in Seattle when she felt alone, detached somehow because there was no recipient for all the love she had to give. She didn’t have a husband to pamper, or children to watch over and protect, but she did have Madam President. So maybe her treatment of Theodora was questionable. It stemmed from a fear that Theodora would be the closest thing she’d ever have to actually having a baby of her own. That was why she had to marry Harry. Maybe it was wrong to use him for her own ends, but she would make Harry a good wife and she would be an even better mother for his children.

      “I’m sorry. You didn’t say anything. I was just being a ninny.” Baily smiled to back up her words. Her sadness, as always, was a momentary aberration. Life was too short to brood. As a result she limited all brooding episodes to only one minute apiece. Two minutes, max.

      He should have just smiled and changed the topic, but he wasn’t satisfied with her answer. “No way.”

      “No way I’m not a ninny?” Baily asked, thinking what a sensitive guy he was to understand that everyone is entitled to an occasional moment of sadness.

      “Oh, no, you are a ninny,” Daniel clarified.

      So much for him being a sensitive guy.

      “Tell me why you looked so hurt a minute ago. Surely you know that your cat is a cat. I mean, I’m not driving all the way to Philadelphia with a delusional wacko…am I?”

      Baily was about to start shooting fireworks when she caught a glimpse of his lopsided smile. He was attempting to be funny. He wasn’t. But the attempt was sweet nonetheless.

      “Not a delusional wacko,” she returned with a wry grin. “Theodora is special to me, that’s all. Of course she’s not a child. But she’s the only one I have to give all my love to. I have this deep endless well of maternal mushy feelings. Sometimes they bubble up on me and if I don’t use them I know I’ll burst. So maybe Theodora is spoiled more than your average cat. She’s my family, and I love her accordingly.”

      “Family,” Daniel repeated derisively. What was so wonderful about a family? Families were nothing more than groups of people depending on each other and needing each other. When one person in the family failed to live up to all that responsibility, everyone suffered. It was far more advantageous to be independent and free of familial burdens. No letdown. No pain.

      “Why do you say ‘family’ like it’s a bad word?” Baily asked.

      “Do I? I didn’t notice,” he said dismissively.

      With a shrug and a small chuckle to break the tension that seemed to have formed around the table, Baily concluded, “Theodora won’t be so spoiled once I have my children. That’s why I’m going home to marry Harry.”

      The image that suddenly formed in Daniel’s mind wasn’t a pleasant one. Baily was pregnant with another man’s child and that man wasn’t worthy. “Harry,” he muttered as if the word was a curse.

      “Harry,” Baily repeated as if it were final.

      Silence hung over their heads. They shared a private look, almost as if Harry was at the table sitting next to them and they couldn’t voice their thoughts in front of him. One was a look of longing, the other of regret.

      “You think the car is ready?” Baily offered.

      “Let’s check.”

      Both knew that the car wasn’t ready. However their discussion had come to an end, and to prolong it any further would more than likely result in an argument.

      Together, but separated by a new tension that flowed between them, the two meandered down the main street of Jackson Hole. Baily let her eyes wander so that she saw everything except Daniel.

      Studying the people around her, she noted the obvious tourist wearing the wrong kind of shoes, experienced hikers who looked as if they were off to the mountains never to return, and a familiar face. She couldn’t say why the gentleman looked familiar to her. He wore casual brown Dockers and a beige shirt. She wanted to tell him that his color sequencing needed a bit of work. Especially considering that he wore a brown baseball hat to top off the ensemble. He was across the street and a few paces back, so she didn’t bother.

      A brown hat! She’d seen one like it the other day on their walk to the car rental place. Of course, that could mean nothing. He could be just another tourist taking in the sites as they were. Jackson Hole wasn’t so big that it was inconceivable she would run into someone she’d seen last night. Yet something nagged at her. Baily was about to catch up to Daniel to ask him if he recognized the man in the hat, but he was three feet away and walking as if his life depended on getting away from her.

      She wasn’t sure why he bothered. They were both headed to the garage. Taking her own sweet time, she arrived several steps behind him.

      “It wasn’t a race, you know.”

      Coolly, Daniel turned toward her. “I’m sorry. Weren’t you able to keep up with me?”

      He knew just the right words to irk her. And the thing that galled her most was that he had done it on purpose. It was obvious that anytime Harry’s name was brought up in the conversation, Daniel