“Right,” Butch said. “We’ll turn our mothers loose on each other. Bisbee, Arizona, will never be the same. When it comes time for the rehearsal dinner, your mother can complain about having a sheriff for a daughter, and mine can gripe about having an ungrateful son who left Chicago-where they’re currently having an early winter ice storm, by the way-and won’t come back. Speaking of which, have you thought about it at all-about what kind of wedding you want? Where? That kind of thing?”
“Butch, give me a break. I’ve had my hands full with a gun-toting construction crew and a Gray Panther who evidently supplements her Social Security checks by illegally collecting rattlesnakes. I haven’t exactly had a chance to pick up the latest copy of Bride magazine.”
“Well,” Butch said. “Maybe we can talk about it at lunch.”
Walking into Daisy’s, Joanna hurried to the back booth where Butch and Junior were already seated. Both of them seemed overjoyed to see her. Joanna planted a kiss on the top of Butch’s smoothly shaved head. “‘Yes, dammit’ isn’t a very good answer,” she said.
Butch grinned up at her. “It works for me,” he said.
It turned out, however, that Daisy’s Cafe in the early afternoon was neither the time nor the place to discuss wedding plans. For one thing, the addition of a very noisy Junior to the mix made Butch and Joanna’s presence the object of more than the usual amount of curiosity. Several people stopped by to chat, but talking was merely a subterfuge to check out what was going on in their booth.
Hoping to quiet Junior, Joanna finally gave him his new badge. He greeted the gift with exuberant glee. When Daisy Maxwell showed up to take their order, Junior was so de-lighted that he practically bounced out of the booth.
“What have you got there?” Daisy asked, pulling a stubby pencil out of her stiffly lacquered beehive hairdo.
“Mine!” Junior announced triumphantly, waving the badge before her eyes. “Put on,” he begged. “Put on, please.”
Before Joanna could do as he asked, Daisy had slapped her order pad and pencil down on the table. “All right, I will,” she said. “But you’ll need to stand up, and you’ll have to be very still.”
Grinning, Junior bounded out of his seat and then stood ramrod-straight while Daisy Maxwell carefully pinned the badge to his shirt pocket. “There now,” she said, patting it in place. “Isn’t that something!”
Joanna was touched by Daisy’s easygoing kindness and also by the fact that Junior’s khaki shirt and slacks had been washed and neatly pressed. The people who lived in Bisbee-even new arrivals like Butch-were generally pretty good folks, and Sheriff Brady was proud to be one of them.
“You from around here?” Daisy asked as Junior resumed his seat.
Junior’s face clouded. The grin vanished. He shook his head sadly, then he pointed at Joanna. “Take Junior home,” he said. “Me go home.”
“Well,” Daisy said, “lunch first. What’ll you have?” Junior looked at her in bewilderment.
“How about a hamburger,” Daisy coached. “You like hamburgers?”
He nodded. “Like.”
“And to drink. What about a milk shake? Chocolate, maybe?”
The grin returned. Junior beamed. “Yes. Junior like.” After Joanna and Butch placed their orders, Daisy started away from the table. Then she turned back. “So where’s he from really?” she asked.
“We don’t know,” Joanna admitted. “He was left behind at the arts and crafts fair in Saint David over the weekend. His name is Junior, but that’s all we know about him. No last name. No idea of where he’s from. Nothing. He’s staying over at Butch’s house for the time being-until we find out where he belongs.”
“How are you going to do that?”
Joanna shook her head. “I have no idea. If we had some clue about where he was from, it would be a big help. But we don’t. He could be from somewhere in Arizona or from someplace out of state as well. It’s snowbird season again. According to Father Mulligan at Holy Trinity, the arts and crafts fair drew visitors from all over the country.”
“So he could be from almost anywhere,” Daisy said with a thoughtful frown. “That would make it tough.”
Joanna smiled at her obvious concern. “If you come up with any bright ideas, we’re open to any and all suggestions.”
“I’ll think about it,” Daisy said. “But before I do that, I’d better turn in your order or you won’t ever get any lunch.”
Daisy disappeared into the kitchen, and Joanna turned back to Butch, who seemed suddenly subdued. “That does take some getting used to,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“The fact that you’re always on duty,” he said seriously. “The fact that your pager can go off anytime of the day or night and you have to go. You’re like a doctor on call, and it’s the same way for Marianne. She’s always on duty, too. I think the only time she ever lets her hair down is when she’s around you. Look what happened to her and Jeff after Esther died. Grief should be private, but it seems like theirs is everybody else’s business. It’ll be exactly the sane thing when it comes to our wedding, Joanna. You think your mother is bad, but just wait. You’re a public person around here. Everybody in town-no, make that everybody in the whole county-is going to have a vested interest in what happens to you. To us. Are you going to be able to handle it?”
Over time Joanna had gradually grown accustomed to the constant attention. For Butch it was a new phenomenon. “I think so,” she said. “What about you?”
Butch shrugged. “Like I said. It’ll take some getting used to.”
Daisy came back with their drinks. Coffee and water for Joanna and Butch and the milk shake for Junior. “I’ll bet chocolate is your favorite,” she said, as she placed the whipped-cream-topped shake in front of him.
Nodding and beaming, Junior reached for the paper-wrapped straw on the plate beside the shake. In his eagerness, his hands trembled so much that he wasn’t able to free the straw from its wrapper. After watching him struggle for the better part of a minute, Butch reached across the table, unwrapped the straw, and stuck it into the drink.
“There you go, Junior,” Butch said. “Have a ball.”
Halfway through lunch, Junior once again announced the fateful word, “Go.” This time there was no mistaking the message. Butch instantly hustled him off to the rest room. When they returned after successfully completing the mission, Joanna met Butch with a smile.
“You’re right,” she said. “This isn’t the most romantic of engagement lunches, but I have to say, from where I’m sitting, the prospective groom is making a very good impression on the prospective bride.”
“Thanks,” he said.
When it was time to leave, the three of them gathered around the cash register near the front door while Daisy rang up their bill. “You know,” she said, “I was thinking. A couple of years ago for Christmas, our kids gave us one of those big coffee-table books, America the Beautiful, I think it’s called. It’s full of pictures from all over the country. You know, the kind of stuff people recognize-like San Xavier Mission in Tucson or the Space Needle in Seattle. I wonder if we showed it to Junior, would he recognize anything?”
“He might,” Butch said. “It’s a long shot.”
“Well, Moe’s at work up at the post office right now,” Daisy said. “As soon as he gets off, I’ll have him drop the book off here at the restaurant. That way, you can stop by and pick it up whenever you like.” She looked at Junior. “Moe’s my husband,” she explained. “He has a book-a very pretty book-with all kinds of pictures in it. Do you like pictures?”
Junior smiled and nodded. “Like pictures,” he said.
“Good, then. The book will be here waiting for you, and you can look at it however much you like.”
Some other people came in the door, and Butch led Junior out to his car. “He’s just as sweet as he can be, isn’t he,” Daisy commented, looking after them.