Chapter 9

Same Dance, Different Music

Coming out of the hotel, Raylan looked down the block to the corner where Winona had disappeared. Taking a page from the Marshal Handbook, he turned the opposite way. If she was really just walking around the block, he'd run into her … eventually. Sure enough, halfway down the next street he spied her, head down, lost in thought. He stopped, leaning against one of the colorful planters that lined the narrow street and waited. When she was almost past him he spoke. "Hey."

She looked up, startled. "Raylan." She shook her head. "Why do you always chase after me?"

"Why are you always runnin' away?"

"I told you I wanted to be alone."

"I thought you meant without Willa, not without me," he said. He dipped his head, trying to catch her eye or make her smile.

She didn't answer.

"If you really need some more time alone, you can leave Willa with me. We were doin' fine."

"Is that what you want?" She met his gaze. "Do you want me to leave?"

"I've never wanted you to leave." he said, his eyes glistening. "Stay." Attempting damage repair, he continued, "Let me go talk to Art and then, we can spend the day together. You, me, and Willa."

She nodded, biting her lip. "I'd like that."

"Good," he smiled and leaned in to kiss her.

Then, she pulled away, doing a double-take, staring at him. "Raylan? Where's Willa? Tell me you didn't leave her with Tim! Raylan?"

Winona started walking and despite his longer legs, he had to quicken his steps to keep up.

"How could you?" She said, over her shoulder. "He doesn't know anything about babies."

"What? Tim told me to go after you," he defended himself, still lagging a step behind her. "He told me he could handle her for a minute."

"Your hung over, sniper, marshal buddy who treats babies like Kryptonite?" she asked, zipping into the hotel lobby as a bellman held the front door open for them. "Really?"

In addition to the urgency, in flats Winona could walk even faster than in her usual high heel footwear. So fast, she skidded to a halt when she rounded the corner upon entering the dining room, causing Raylan to skid right behind her. They were both shocked and relieved to see the grumpy waitress playing 'Itsy Bitsy Spider' with a laughing Willa, as Tim waved at them.

"She is a cutie," the waitress, whose name tag said 'Velma', said with the first smile they had ever seen out of the woman. "Can I get you folks anything else? I just warmed up your coffees."

"Just the tab, thanks," Raylan said with a weak smile. Leave it to Willa to warm up the old hag, he thought to himself.

"I'll be right back with your check," Velma said and left her party alone, waving her fingers to Willa who was still smiling.

Tim moved over towards the center of the booth to make room for Winona. "Did you two kiss and make nice?"

"We're workin' on it," Raylan said, as Winona dipped the end of a cloth napkin into her water glass and dabbed applesauce from her baby's face and hands.

Tim, still hung over, stretched his arms up into the air and then, looked over at Winona. "Don't take any shit off this guy."

"Tim. Language," Raylan scolded.

Picking up Willa's monkey from the seat and handing it to her, Winona then put her chin in her hand, supported by her elbow on the table, and looked at Tim. "Did you really tell Raylan to go after me?"

"Well, yeah," Tim said without hesitation. "You two need to work your … stuff … out because Willa needs both of you. I'm just stating the obvious." And after a beat, he said, "And you need to know that ol' Raylan here isn't really interested in anyone else because he's still hung up on you."

Winona looked across the table at Raylan, his legs crossed, sitting at an angle on the edge of his seat, coolly sipping his coffee.

"It's like Raylan said … we're working on it," she said.

Raylan looked at her and gave her a nod.

"Then, my work here is done," Tim proclaimed, pulling a twenty-dollar-bill out of his wallet and slapping it on the table. "I'll see you two at the office after lunch. Don't be late. The finance meeting didn't go well, and what with Rachel out on top of it all, Art's testy enough as it is."

"Oh, and none of it has to do with the two hung over civilians at the Monroe place," Raylan said. "Please tell me he didn't find you all in a naked heap."

"No such luck," Tim yawned. "They passed out after two games of bowling and a half a bottle of Pappy."

"What a waste of good whiskey," Raylan lamented.

"Not really," Tim winked. "I finished it off. Scoot." Under the table, Tim gave a little kick to Raylan's boot. "I gotta go."

Raylan stood to let Tim out.

After he was gone, Winona reached across the table for Raylan's hand. "What are we going to do? We both want the same thing, but we always end up back in this same place."

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "We'll think of somethin'."

He was lying. He had no idea how this time would be any different than any other. The only thing that was different now was that beautiful, shining, little face sitting in her high chair.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

With Willa and her monkey in tow and Raylan doing the heavy lifting, they spent the morning walking through the park and then the shops at Victorian Square. They didn't do much talking; both of them content just spending time together. Not that hungry after their big breakfast, at lunchtime they split a hot pretzel from a stand and walked back to the hotel to feed Willa.

Back in the room, nursing their baby, Winona asked, "Should Willa and I stay here, or do you want us to come with you?"

"Please come," Raylan begged, retrieving his badge and his gun from the nightstand. "Didya' see the way Willa soothed the savage beast in that old hag, Velma?" Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "I'm countin' on her to do the same with grumpy ol' Uncle Art." He looked up at Winona. "Besides, he likes you."

Winona laughed. "You want this tiny girl to protect you from Art?"

"Well, yeah," Raylan smiled. "All's fair when Art calls you out. Hey," he pointed at her with an extended index finger. "You've never been on the other side of the Chief Deputy when he's pissed off. It's no fun. Plus if you two are with me, he won't be able to keep me at the office long."

"Okay," Winona sounded a little sheepish. "It's just that he'll be none too happy with me, either, for coming back early."

"I still say there's safety in numbers," he maintained. "After this meeting, we could come back here and put Willa down for a nap. Maybe take one ourselves. I thought maybe I could take you ladies out to dinner tonight."

With a gleam in her eye, she said, "Oh, could we go to Giuseppe's?"

"You missed Giuseppe's, didya'?" he smiled. "We could definitely do that. I'll call and make a reservation," he said, grabbing his cell out of his pocket, on his way to the restroom, and scrolling through his numbers on speed dial.

He emerged a few minutes later, face washed and teeth brushed to find Willa had been fed and changed and was strapped into her carrier seat. Winona was rearranging a few things in Willa's diaper bag.

"We have reservations at seven," he reported. Then, the expression on his face noticeably changed from a smile to one of distress. He let out a big sigh. "Let's go get this unpleasantness over with."

"We're ready," Winona grabbed the diaper bag and put it over her shoulder along with her own bag, while Raylan grabbed his car keys and Willa.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"Winona!" Judge Reardon's boisterous voice echoed in the tiled entryway to the courthouse. He spied them as soon as they walked through the doors and wasted no time hustling his bulk over and wrapping her in a hug. "And look at this little beauty." Leaning over Willa in her carrier, he cast an eye toward Raylan. "I hope you aren't gonna let these two gorgeous ladies get away from you a third time."

Raylan hid behind the hat, shaking his head.

"It's just not the same without you," the Judge said, addressing Winona. "None of the other court reporters can compare to you, in beauty..." he leered. "Or skill. "When're you gonna come back to us?"

Winona flushed. "Thank you judge, but I'm not quite ready to leave this little one yet."

"Well, now, I can understand that, but anytime you are, you just let me know. We can always find a place for you."

Raylan caught Winona's eye and raised an eyebrow. "Good to know, Judge."

After standing on the sidelines while Winona showed off the baby to a few of her former co-workers, Raylan suggested they not keep Art waiting.

In the elevator he nudged her. "You liked your job."

"Yes, I did," she said.

"Somethin' to think about."

"We've both got a lot to think about, don't we?" She said, smiling sweetly. Just before they reached the right floor, an unpleasant odor filled the small space.

"My God," Raylan gasped, covering his nose. "Is that her?"

Winona giggled. "Well, it wasn't me."

They both looked down at Willa, looking innocently back up at them. She gave her mama and her daddy a big smile.

"Oh, feel better now, do ya?" Raylan chuckled.

"Probably the bananas," Winona said. As soon as the doors opened, she headed for the family restroom to alleviate the problem.

Tim's desk was empty, and with Rachel gone only Nelson was there to greet Raylan when he walked in. "It's not a good day," the other Marshal warned. "Art's waiting for you in his office."

"What's goin' on?" Raylan said, figuring there had to be something other than Tim's hijinx at the mansion.

"Word from the budget meeting is the Deputy Director thinks our office is overstaffed." Nelson sighed. "And I'm low man on this totem pole. Deborah is not gonna like it one bit if we're transferred."

"They're always sayin' shit like that." Raylan tried to reassure his coworker. "And nothin' ever happens."

Nelson rapped his knuckles on the wood frame of the message board. "Let's hope that holds true this time."

From his fishbowl office, Art noticed Raylan standing at Nelson's desk and waved him on back.

Raylan took in a deep breath and let it out as he took the same long walk to his boss's office he had taken many times before, the one that felt like he was walking into the Principal's Office for some discipline. Sticking his head in the door, Raylan tried to keep things loose by asking, "You rang?"

Art stood near his desk and looked Raylan up and down with his hands spread wide open and a 'what the hell' look on his face.

Raylan beat him to the punch. "Before you say anything about me lookin' like I'm wearin' a ladies t-shirt, it's because I am … wearin' a ladies t-shirt," Raylan explained, feeling very self-conscious standing before his boss in the clingy, tight shirt that showed off every muscle in his chest, back, and arms. "My clean laundry should be returned at the hotel just as soon as I can get back. Unfortunately, it wasn't in time for this meeting," he said the last part under his breath.

"Tell me, Raylan," Art crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. "Are you without a clean shirt because you were over at the Monroe place in the middle of that pile of debauchery I found over there this morning? Only you left before I showed up?"

"No," Raylan appeared shocked his boss would suggest such a thing. "I was takin' care of Willa back at the hotel." The energy in his voice rose as he went on. "And Winona showed up at the hotel last night, unexpectedly. I was with her and Willa last night. You can ask her. She's in the bathroom changin' the baby."

"But you would have been over there if Winona hadn't come back early?" Art asked.

"No, I had the baby with me," he again stated the obvious.

"If you hadn't had the baby?" Art skillfully interrogated his marshal.

"Well, no," Raylan answered the question. "Loretta's social worker came looking for me last night."

It was as if Raylan was laying out a list of witnesses who could account for his whereabouts.

Art chuckled. "Loretta's pot smoking social worker."

Raylan screwed up his face, astounded. "You know about that?" I'm gonna kill Tim, he thought to himself.

Art nodded like the cat who swallowed the canary.

Raylan weakly offered, "I've asked her not to smoke in front of me."

Off the cuff, Art remarked, "It's not in our purview."

"Exactly," Raylan countered.

Art shifted the weight of his heavy frame. "I really don't give a shit about that, Raylan, except to ask, what the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Raylan held out his hands and flipped his palms up.

Now standing with his hands on his hips, Art went to the heart of the matter. "Didn't I ask you yesterday afternoon to keep Tim out of trouble until I came back?"

"Ya' did," Raylan acknowledged. "But I was a little preoccupied with takin' care of Willa, thanks to you."

Art took a seat on the edge of his desk. "So, Winona came back early. She didn't trust you to take care of the baby?"

"Evidently not, although she praised me on doin' a few things right," Raylan shared.

In an instant, the truth that Raylan would not give Art became clear. "You didn't want Winona to walk into that bar with those women there."

Bingo.

"And so you sent them with Tim over to the Monroe place," Art was staring daggers.

Raylan didn't say a word.

"That's quite a predicament you got yourself into," Art acknowledged. "And me."

"I was tryin' to help Tim out," he explained, coming clean. "You know how it is with him."

"Yeah, right," Art scoffed in disbelief that this was all about Tim.

"He said he'd take a bullet for my kid," Raylan shared in all seriousness.

"Bros before ho's?" Art raised an eyebrow.

"Well, they're not exactly whores. More like floozies," he corrected. Then, he nodded defiantly. "But yeah. Damn right."

After a beat, Art pried a little more. "Tim also said you and Winona are trying to work things out?"

"We're talkin'," Raylan answered. "That's somethin'."

Again, folding his arms across his barrel chest, Art asked, "Can I give you some fatherly advice?"

Raylan looked at him, waiting for it.

"Don't screw this up with her," he forewarned.

"We're havin' dinner tonight at Giuseppe's," Raylan shared, almost asking for Art's approval.

"Good," Art nodded. "I recommend the Surf and Turf. Those big shrimp stuffed with the crab filling are excellent."

"Yeah?" Raylan asked, allowing his boss anything to get his mind off of the reason he called this meeting in the first place.

Art noticed Winona came into the office suite with Willa. She was saying hello to Nelson. Art waved at her through the glass.

"What's this I'm hearin' about the budget?" Raylan dared to ask. "Is it a problem I'm out on vacation?"

"Quite the contrary," Art answered. "I told you before, I'm saving the Marshal Service money for every stockpiled vacation day you use." He paused. "Within reason."

"What about Rachel bein' out, too?" Raylan pointed out.

Art sighed. "Her absence gives me an excuse to keep Nelson around. He can step up and work with Tim."

"Then, are we good?" Raylan tentatively asked.

Art once again looked his marshal up and down in his ridiculous attire, intentionally making Raylan uncomfortable one more time. "For now."

(To be continued . . .)