As the weekend drew nearer, the tension grew. What would Cade say? Would he be angry? Would he insist she have an abortion? Could he?
She wiped a table and turned to take the dishes to the kitchen. A tall lean figure entered the diner and she froze - Cade. Why was he here?
He paused only long enough to locate her, and then made a straight line for her. Her heart was pounding as he stopped in front of her.
"I want to talk to you." His tone was brusque.
She moved around him with the tray. "All right, I get off at nine."
He stepped in front of her and took the tray. "No, now."
"All right, I'll ask for a break." Did he know?
He slammed the tray on the counter and Chet glanced up sharply, eyeing Cade suspiciously.
"Do you need help, Cynthia?"
"No," she answered quickly. "I just need a short break."
Cade shook his head and with a quick move, untied her apron strings. He lifted the apron over her head.
"We're going somewhere else to talk."
"But I can't just..."
"Sure you can." He wadded the apron into a ball.
"Cade, I'm trying to do my job, you can't just march into a person's life and disrupt it and then..."
Her words trailed off at his raised brows.
"Hold that thought," He pitched the apron at Chet. "Go get your own girl and leave mine alone."
"Cade!" Was he drunk?
"Russ," He corrected as he gripped her arm and led her to the door. "Why is it that you can only remember my first name when we're making love?"
His voice was low and she was sure no one else heard, but her face burned furiously. What had gotten into him?
He led her to his truck and opened the door, helping her into the truck. He slammed the door and strode purposefully around to the other side, jerking the driver's side door open. If she had felt the least bit threatened, it would have been easy enough to jump out of the truck. But in spite of his aggressive behavior, she felt safe with him. He obviously had something definite on his mind. And why had he told Chet that she was his girl?
He parked the truck in front of the courthouse and turned to her, dragging a paper from his pocket.
"Explain this - if you can."
She unfolded the paper and gasped. "How did you get this?" And then she saw the note clipped to the adoption form. The familiar scrawl belonged to Mary.
"Thought you should know."