Mrs. Colson stuck her head in the door, “Do you want me to order you some lunch?” she asked.

“No, thanks.” Her impatience for Doc to get back had destroyed her appetite.

“I’m going to order a salad for myself. The Yellow Rose is real good about running it over here. You sure I can’t talk you into anything?”

“I’m sure.”

Donna Jo stopped off fifteen minutes later with a chef’s salad and sat down on a chair in the reception area. Mrs. Colson was behind the counter, and Sherry was sitting on another chair with her purse and suitcase, ready to go. “The Cattlemen’s Association’s in town for lunch,” Donna Jo told the receptionist, removing her shoe and massaging her sore foot. She eyed Sherry with the same curiosity she had a day earlier. “I hear you delivered Ellie’s baby last night.”

Word had indeed gotten around. Sherry nodded.

“You must’ve spent the night out there with her and Luke, because Mayor Bowie came into the café this morning looking for you. You weren’t at the clinic.”

“Actually, Cody Bailman drove me over to his house.”

“You stayed the night at Cody’s?” Donna Jo asked, her interest piqued. Mrs. Colson studied Sherry with undisguised interest.

“It was after two by the time I finished. I was exhausted, and so was Cody.” She certainly didn’t want these two getting the wrong impression. “Nothing happened. I mean, nothing that was, uh…” She gave up trying to find the right words. “Cody was a perfect gentleman.”

“Isn’t he always?” Donna Jo winked at Mrs. Colson.

“Is there something wrong with my spending the night at Cody’s?”

“Not in the least,” Mrs. Colson immediately said. “Cody’s a gentleman.”

“As much of a gentleman as any Texan gets,” Donna Jo amended. “Martha, are you going to tell her, or am I?”

“Tell me what?” Sherry said.

Donna Jo and Mrs. Colson shared a significant look.

“What?” Sherry demanded again.

“I don’t think so,” Mrs. Colson said thoughtfully. “She’ll find out soon enough on her own.”

“Yeah.” Donna Jo nodded. “You’re right.”

“What will I find out on my own?” Sherry tried a third time, but again her question was ignored.

“Martha here tells me you’re bent on leaving town,” the waitress said conversationally. “Stop in at the café on your way out and I’ll pack you a lunch to take along. You might not be hungry now, but you will be later.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

Doc showed up around two that afternoon, looking tired and disgruntled. “I’ve been up since before dawn,” he muttered. “It didn’t make sense that I wasn’t reeling in any fifteen-inchers until I realized it was too early in the month.”

“I’ll be back in less than two weeks,” Sherry promised, “and next time the fish are sure to be biting.”

“I hope so,” Doc grumbled. “You might’ve said something about arriving early, you know.”

Sherry nearly had to swallow her tongue to keep from reminding him that she’d done everything but throw herself in front of his truck to keep him from leaving.