Baily's Irish Dream: Baily's Irish Dream / Czech Mate. Stephanie Doyle
you we’d go to Mount Rushmore,” Baily said lovingly. To Daniel she said, “And you know I always keep my promises. But we’ll pass through Rapid City the next day so you can tell your vice president to send the money there.”
“Too late. I don’t want to wait two days. We’ll just have to hang out here tomorrow morning. Sorry about all this.” Daniel picked up the phone and dialed nine to get an outside line.
With another shake of her head, Baily dismissed his apology. “You were robbed. There was nothing you could have done.”
Daniel smiled, thanking her for her acceptance. His conversation with Bruce was curt and to the point. The money would be there tomorrow. Daniel hung up the phone and turned to find Baily with her hand on her chin as if she were considering something. “What?” Daniel questioned.
Baily shrugged her shoulders. “I was just thinking that maybe you could have realized that the shove you received was more than accidental.”
“How was I supposed to tell that? It was a shove. I think there was a guy in a brown hat, and then I felt a bump. How could I have guessed I was robbed?”
“I’m not saying that you should have. I’m merely pointing out that if you had checked your wallet after you were bumped, maybe you would have been able to catch the guy. You could have chased him down into an alley. Then maybe you could have kicked the knife out of his hand—”
“What knife?” Daniel asked incredulously.
“The knife in his back pocket. All professional crooks carry a knife. And we do agree that he was a professional?”
“Damn straight.”
“There you go. You would have kicked away his knife and punched him in the nose. Then you would have ripped your wallet out of his greedy little paws and said something macho like, ‘Nobody messes with Daniel Blake.’ Then you would have returned to me triumphant.” Baily sighed. “It would have made a wonderful story.”
“What if I turned tail and ran after I saw the knife?”
“You’re not the turn-tail-and-run type of guy,” Baily assured him.
Amused by her conviction, Daniel thanked her for the compliment.
“But since you didn’t do any of that, we’ll have to wait until noon before we can leave. I don’t mind, but what about your sister? Can we afford the delay?”
Nobody messes with Daniel Blake. Would he have really said that? God, he hoped not. A shake of his head brought his focus back to the matter at hand. He’d been grappling with the problem of making the wedding in time all afternoon as he drove Red’s Bug. Her worn-down, pitiful little Bug couldn’t be pushed past sixty-five without making a fuss. The car wasn’t made for a high-speed trek across the country. Perhaps the best thing he could do would be to buy himself more time.
“I have an idea.”
“Uh-oh.”
Daniel shot her his what-the-hell-does-that-mean look. Baily couldn’t decipher it, so he asked her, “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
Satisfied, Daniel picked up the phone again.
“I just meant that your last idea concerning your sister—offering her beau a bribe—bombed so miserably that maybe you ought to let me do the thinking from now on.”
Wolflike growls originated from the back of this throat.
Baily didn’t seem to notice. “For instance, I was thinking that maybe you could call Sarah and tell her you are running late. Is it a big-deal wedding? You know, church, reception, that kind of thing.”
“No, she said Pierce didn’t want to wait. They’re being married at city hall.”
“So ask if she could postpone the wedding for a few days. That way we’ll have a little extra time built into our schedule.”
“That was my idea!” Daniel shouted irritably.
“Okay, okay. No need to get huffy. Make your phone call. Then we’ll eat.”
Punching the necessary numbers with a little more force than necessary, Daniel barked a hello. “Oh, it’s you, Larson. Listen, get my sister. It’s an emergency.”
Baily waited and listened to his side of the conversation.
“What do you mean, she’s not there? Where is she? …Out shopping for a gown…. I see…When will she return? …You don’t know. She’s your fiancée yet you have no idea when she’s coming home? …What the hell was that crack supposed to mean? …I am not too possessive…Listen you…”
Baily watched as he became increasingly agitated. If he didn’t control his temper, there was no way Pierce would consider postponing the wedding. She jumped up to stop him before he said something stupid. Grabbing the phone out of his hand, she spoke to who she assumed was Pierce Larson.
“Hi, Mr. Larson. You don’t know me, but I’m a friend of Daniel’s.”
“I didn’t know he had friends,” came the response from the other end of the phone. Baily had already made up her mind not to like him but she couldn’t help smiling at the insult.
“Yes, well, he does. He’s been having a little car trouble, and wallet trouble, and bump-on-the-head trouble. What I mean to say is that he’s running behind schedule. So we thought since it’s so very important that he be at his own sister’s wedding that you could postpone the wedding for a few days.”
“I don’t know. We’ve got everything planned already,” Pierce said smoothly.
“You’re getting married by a judge, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Then you should have no problem simply making another appointment. Daniel is her brother. He’s got to be there.”
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will run it by Sarah. If she agrees, then we’ll postpone everything until Daniel arrives.”
Baily smiled triumphantly at Daniel who was still trying to contain his temper. “That’s perfect. I’m sure Sarah will agree. Goodbye.”
“IT WAS ELEVEN O’CLOCK at night,” Daniel said to the waiter. It was an odd response considering the waiter had asked him if he would like anything to drink.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Daniel paused for a moment while he attempted to gain his focus.
Baily jumped in with an apologetic excuse. “You’ll have to forgive my friend. He was hit really hard on the head today. And his car was trashed, and his wallet was stolen, and…”
With a warning glance, Daniel attempted to shut her up. Fat chance.
“We really don’t even know if he has suffered any permanent damage,” Baily continued, unaware of Daniel’s disapproval. “Head wounds can be tricky.”
The waiter nodded sympathetically, but it was easy to see that all he wanted to know was what the man would like to drink.
“Stuff it, Red,” Daniel told her. “I’ll have a beer, a cheeseburger, fries if you have them, and a large salad with blue cheese dressing.”
Baily nodded approvingly. “Sounds good. I’ll have the same. Except no fries. And I’ll have a chicken sandwich instead of a hamburger. No cheese on the chicken of course. And instead of blue cheese dressing I would like something low fat if you have it. If not, then I’ll take honey dijon.”
Daniel shook his head. “That wasn’t the same thing at all.”
Baily handed the waiter the menus while looking at Daniel in an attempt to decipher what he meant. She didn’t notice that the waiter practically sprinted from their table. “What are you talking about? I ordered