Taming a Texas Rascal (Bad Boy Ranch #6) - Katie Lane Page 0,28
for the fall festival meeting.
With a good hour and a half to kill before the meeting, she decided to stop by the pharmacy for something that would settle her stomach. As she was heading to the antacid section, she passed the shelf of pregnancy tests.
She came to a sudden halt.
What if she took a test and showed it to Sawyer? Then she wouldn’t have to tell the complete truth. He wouldn’t have to worry about her being pregnant and she wouldn’t have to worry about him hating her forever. She picked up a pregnancy test. It would be a win-win for everyone.
“Hey, Maisy!”
Maisy turned and saw Luanne Riddell charging toward her with a shopping cart. Maisy quickly put the pregnancy test back and moved away from the shelf.
“Hey there, Luanne. How are you doing?”
Luanne came to a halt right next to her. “Horrible. Bud came down with a summer cold. And the ‘man cold’ is one of the worst things that can happen to a wife. Bud has been runnin’ me ragged for the last two days and moaning about how he’s dying. That’s why I’m here. I need to get some Nyquil. What are you here for?”
“Tums.” Maisy quickly changed the subject back to Bud’s man cold. “I can’t take Nyquil. It knocks me out.”
Luanne grinned. “That’s what I’m hopin’ for. I’m going to dose Bud up good before I head over to the planning meeting for the fall festival. Are you going to be there?”
“Yes. Sawyer and I are helping to plan the rodeo.”
“The festival is going to be such fun. I can hardly wait. I’m in charge of the arts and crafts fair because my homemade bracelets are such a big hit.” Luanne held her hand up and shook the many beaded bracelets she wore on her wrist. “If you want one, I’ll give you the friends and family discount.”
“Thanks, Luanne, but I don’t really wear a lot of jewelry.”
“Well, there’ll be lots of other things to buy at the fair. Miss Gertie and that cute Cheyenne Daily are going to sell some of the crocheted and knitted things they’ve been making. And Martha Dover is going to sell her handmade soaps.” Luanne leaned in closer and whispered, “Although I wouldn’t buy the lavender. It gave me a yeast infection that wouldn’t quit. You need to be careful what you put down there. Itching in that spot is no fun. Anyway, where was I . . . oh, yes, the arts and crafts fair. Raynelle has started making these cute bottle cap earrings—no doubt to compete with my bracelets—and Boone Murphy makes the most beautiful things out of wood. He made a cross for Debbie Marshall’s dead cat that would take your breath away.”
Maisy bit back a smile. “It sounds like the arts and crafts fair is going to be a huge success. I hope the rodeo will be as well.”
“With you and that hot Sawyer Dawson planning it, I’m sure it will. Well, I better quit gabbing and get the Nyquil to Bud so I can get to the meeting.” Luanne waved a hand before she headed down the aisle.
After she was gone, Maisy glanced at the pregnancy tests. But before she could pick the box back up, her conscience kicked it and she shook her head. No, Maisy, you aren’t your daddy. It’s time to tell Sawyer the truth. In fact, she would do it right after the meeting. It might be best to tell him when people were around . . . just in case he tried to strangle her.
On the way out of the pharmacy, she saw Luanne checking out.
“Didn’t you find the Tums?” Luanne asked.
Damn, she’d forgotten all about what she’d come in for. “Umm . . . my stomach is feeling better. Must’ve just been a morning bug.”
Luanne smiled rather slyly and nodded before she went back to her conversation with the cashier.
Since she still hadn’t killed enough time before the meeting started, Maisy wandered down the street looking in shop windows. When she came to the Simple Hardware store, she remembered what Luanne had said about Boone Murphy. The thought that popped into her head was foolish, but once it was there, she couldn’t seem to get it out. And maybe that’s what she needed to get closure. Something concrete.
She pulled open the door and stepped inside. No one was in the store, but she could hear arguing coming from the back room.