25 SOUVENIR OF MY TRIP

"Soon," the kid said with a grin. "Very, very soon."

"Remember what I said," Andrew warned, hoping the boy would behave himself. "You don't want her aunt to think you brought Francisca here just to...well, you know what I mean."

"Hey." the kid had the nerve to grin at him. "I'm getting married soon, Andrew. We are going to town to pick out a ring."

"Nothing's open on Sunday."

"I called and begged and Joey said he'd open up the store just for me right after church."

Shorty stopped at the door and turned around to stare Bobby. "You are going to church?"

"Not me. Joey. He owns his father's jewellery store now and he said he'd give me a good deal on a ring."

Andrew retrieved his plate and picked up his fork. He'd rather eat cold eggs than see Rose's reaction when she heard there was going to be a wedding after all. He thought he'd better wait a while before heading over to the main house, at least until the fireworks were over.

"YOU STILL WANT TO GO?"

Rose helped herself to another piece of buttered toast and sat down at the kitchen table. "Yes, Andrew. why wouldn't I?"

"Uh, no reason." Then she didn't know, Andrew figured. Or she'd be packing up to leave instead of munching toast as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"Do you think any of the quilts on display will be for sale?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. Sometimes at the fair there's a quilt raffle. You're shopping?"

"I might. As a souvenir of my trip."

He stared at her across the table. Today she wore some kind of blue dress that showed off her shoulders and neck and looked real good on her. "I thought you might want to go riding again," he teased. He'd seen the way she'd winced when she sat down in her chair.

"No, thank you. But it wasn't as frightening as I thought it would be." She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye. "I owe you an apology."

"What for?" He wondered what she'd do if he leaned across the table and kissed her. An intriguing toast crumb clung to her upper lip, which she licked and retrieved. Andrew stared, fascinated.

"For being such a pain in the rear," she said.

"You have been very nice to us, to me, this weekend and I hope i wasn't rude to you."

Andrew cleared his throat and thought about getting her alone again. "You weren't."

"None of this is your fault," she continued. "You didn't know that Francisca goes through stages as easily as she changes her shoes and..."

"Come home with me," he interrupted, unsure how much longer he could keep from lifting her across the table and setting her on his lap.

"What?"

He opened his mouth to repeat himself as Mrs Martin entered the kitchen, her arms loaded with groceries.

"You two still here?" She arched her brows and frowned at him.

Which of course they were. Andrew nodded.

"We will be out of your way in a few minutes." Rose hurried to explain. "We are going off to the quilt show in town."

Mrs Martin nodded her approval. "Take the boss and the girlfriend with you. They have been kissing in the living room for the past fifteen minutes."

Lucky boss.

Rose jumped up and, stopping to put her cup and plate in the sink, headed to stop her niece from sure disaster, Andrew assumed.

"I warned you about these kinds of shenanigans," Mrs Martin grumbled. "Marty's doing nothing but mooning around those twins. He'd be better off picking one or the other and settling down himself."

Andrew was tired of discussing other people's love lives. Bobby and Marty were old enough to take care of themselves, old enough to make their own mistakes and pick their women.

Just as he was overdue to claim his.

And claim her he would, as soon as she'd seen Texas Textiles display at the Grange hall. After all, how long could it take to see a quilt show?

Rose thought later that she should have seen it coming, but she'd been so pleased with her new quilt she'd missed all the signs that something else was going on besides basic life-on-the-ranch activity when Francisca and Bobby were waiting to greet the car.

"Where's Pookie?" It was her first question when she saw Francisca holding hands with Bobby and there was no little dog in sight.

"Taking a nap with Shorty," Bobby explained. "Uh, Ms Marti, we have..."

"Something to tell you," Francisca finished for him, holding out her hand.

"What?" Rose hugged the flower garden quilt she had purchased. She wanted to unfold it and examine every little piece of pastel hexagon fabric. She wanted to picture it on the foot of her Cape Cod bed tomorrow night, ready for foggy nights when a quilt was needed in order to stay warm.

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