Mad About You

parking lot of the saloon. Virginia laughed a bitter laugh. And from the looks of the young woman he'd given cab fare to, commitment still ranked low on his list.
    For the space of a few weeks after the birth, hope had bloomed in her chest that Bailey would be content to settle down and raise a family. Indeed, he had blazed a new trail of devoted husband and father. But when some madwoman had stolen their baby from his carrier, she'd also stolen Bailey's innocence, his optimism, and his future. Virginia had found herself married to a shell of the man she'd fallen in love with.
    She'd gone looking for him tonight, desperately hoping for... what? A strong, accomplished man on whom she could rely to help raise this child. Someone who would be a good role model, someone who shared her values. But Bailey Kallihan was not father-of-the-year material. He was a willful boy in a man's body.
    A body that still had the infuriating power to affect hers.
    She dragged herself up and splashed cold water on her face. Slowly she dried her hands and fussed with her bangs, delaying her return as long as possible. Finally, she left to retrace her steps to the booth.
    The soup had arrived in her absence and Bailey sat deep in thought, apparently waiting for her before taking a bite. Her pulse leapt absurdly at the sight of his dark profile. He'd pulled the largest portion of his black hair into a thick ponytail. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and the dark stubble crept all the way down to his Adam's apple. A black long-sleeved shirt tucked into faded jeans gave him the look of a displaced cowboy, seemingly capable of playing good guy or bad.
    Virginia would give a week's salary to know what he'd been thinking. Years ago, her unplanned pregnancy had interrupted Bailey's plans to launch his own landscape architectural firm. What plans had her unexpected news interrupted this time?
    Her appearance startled him out of his reverie. "Where do you live?" he asked as she sat down.
    "In German Village." She saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes at the mention of the pricey locale. "How about you? What do you do for a living?" she inquired, lowering her gaze as she lifted her cup for a sip. The deep blue centers of his eyes were so intense against the startling whites, she couldn't look into them for more than a few seconds. Bailey, Jr.'s eyes had been deep blue, but all babies had blue eyes at that age....
    "Still landscaping," he said. "I work for a commercial developer."
    "Designing?"
    "No," he said, picking up his spoon. "Just running a few crews."
    Virginia's heart sank. He'd given up his dream. "That's nice," she said, breaking open a packet of crackers. "Do you still live at Shenoway?" The mere mention of his family's small farm sent stabs of longing through her chest.
    He busied himself stirring the soup. "No. Sis and her husband renovated Mom and Pop's farmhouse, and we sold some of the surrounding land. I live above the saloon."
    She took a bite of the dry cracker and swallowed her disappointment. They'd brought Bailey, Jr., home to the decrepit farmhouse, and Bailey had promised her they'd someday build a new home in the north meadow overlooking the pond. With a big yard for Bailey, Jr., to run and play in as he grows up. Now it seemed probable some other family lived in their meadow. "How is Rita?" she managed to ask.
    At last he cracked a smile. "Sis is great, as always. She's married to a terrific guy, and they have a six-year-old, Jean Ann."
    Virginia smiled her genuine pleasure. "I'd love to see them."
    His hands stilled and she watched his eyes move over her hair and face. "She really misses you."
    "I should have stayed in touch. With Rita, I mean."
    "Well, I guess you'll be seeing more of her now," he said. "I guess you'll be seeing more of me too."
    Virginia kept her face passive to hide the current of emotion coursing through her at the simple truth of his words.
    "You're still wearing the locket I gave you," he said with surprise in his voice, pointing to the necklace she unconsciously fingered.
    She glanced down at the shiny gold pendant, hoping he didn't read anything into the fact that she still wore his wedding gift. Looking up again, she shrugged slightly and smiled. "It always made me feel closer to him somehow."
    He nodded. "Can I see his picture?"
    Leaning forward, she stretched the long chain and extended the case toward him. He gently opened the locket and ran a finger over their son's birth picture—a