Page 21 of Their Forever Daddy

Grant

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He’d been had.

The little pixie had taken him on a rather merry chase all around half of South Carolina before he lost her. Somehow, he’d run out of gas before she had, and by the time he’d gotten back on the road after filling the tank, her giant green truck was nowhere to be seen. He’d driven around for a while longer, hoping to run into her, but eventually he’d given up and headed back to Lost River. Someone, somewhere had to know where to find Jesse.

Or not.

The sun was dipping down below the horizon by the time he exited the sixth—or maybe it was the seventh or the eighth, he’d lost count—shop, where yet another group of people had claimed to have no knowledge of Jesse’s whereabouts. The dark haired girl with the bratty smirk at McDowell’s Feed and Supply had straight up acted like she’d never heard Jesse’s name before.

By then, his stomach was loudly protesting the fact he’d only eaten a slice of cake and some strawberries all day, so he forced himself to stop at a little honky tonk style restaurant called The Honk. Stepping inside the restaurant, he let his gaze travel over the goose decor covering a good portion of the wall space and shook his head.

Small towns were… interesting.

“Good evening!” A pretty redhead with a bright smile bounced up to the hostess station. “How many in your party?”

“Just me.”

“Perfect.” Her smile didn’t falter as she grabbed a single menu and packet of silverware. “Follow me.”

He did, silently grateful when she tucked him away in a booth in the corner that offered him at least a modicum of privacy. Kessily, as she’d introduced herself on the way, took his request for the tallest, coldest beer they had and left him to check over the menu she’d left on the table for him.

Everything looked and smelled delicious, if the aromas filling the restaurant were anything to judge by. But he could practically feel his arteries clogging as he skimmed the offerings. There wasn’t a single item on the menu, including the salads, that didn’t include something deep fried, wrapped in bacon, or smothered in cheese. Often some combination of the three.

Ah, well. When in Rome, right?

Already dreading the punishments his devious personal trainer was going to come up with when he returned to California, he sighed and set the menu aside just as Kessily returned to his table with the tallest glass of beer he’d seen in his life.

“Ready to order, honey?”

Her accent reminded him of Jesse’s when she was too stressed or tired—or drunk—to hide it, and he had to force a smile to cover the ache in his chest at the thought of his missing babygirl. “The Sassburger looks great, but I was wondering if I could get that with a side salad instead of the fries?”

“Sure thing.” Kessily’s smile flashed again, bright and welcoming. “Anything else?”

Since he was here already, it seemed like a waste not to ask. “Actually…” He hesitated, just for a second. If he asked about Jesse, odds were Kessily was going to clam up just like everyone else in town had so far.

Time for a different play. “Do you know a woman named Edie? Short, dark hair, not the type to take anybody’s shit.”

Throwing her head back, Kessily let out a loud laugh. “That sounds like old Widow McDowell all right. Yeah, I know Edie. Everyone in town does. Are you looking for her?”

“Old?” Shit. Grant shook his head. “The name is right, but the woman I’m looking for isn’t old. Early thirties, maybe?”

“Oh, yeah, she’s not actually old. It’s just a nickname that stuck.”

“I see.” McDowell. Why did that name sound so familiar? Tucking it away for the moment, he turned up the charm a bit. “As it happens, I am looking for her. We were supposed to meet up this afternoon, but we must have gotten our wires crossed. I’ve left her a couple messages, but…”

Kessily’s smile warmed. “Knowing her, she’s off saving another litter of puppies or something. Unfortunately, if you can’t get her on her cell, there’s not really another way to contact her. I’d say you could check with Noelle or Taylor down at the feed store, see if they’ve heard from her at all, but they’re likely closed up by now.”

“Ah, well. I appreciate the assistance.”

“You’re welcome. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“No worries.”

As she sauntered off to input his order, Grant pulled his phone from his pocket and went to work tracking down everything he could about one Edie McDowell.

Edie

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