Her Fifth Husband? by Dixie Browning Page A

Julia Child, but I’m not about to try to cook anything I can’t spell. Now, back to Jake—I don’t know if he’s currently involved or not, we’ll need to check on it, but—”
    Sasha tapped her remaining acrylic nails on the coffee table as her thoughts returned to the man who had taken her other shoe and thrown it away, for all she knew. He hadn’t called back, but then, she’d been on the phone practically ever since he’d left. First she’d called her friend Daisy to see when the baby was due, then she’d called the hospital to ask how long before she could drive again.
    Evidently the hospital wasn’t about to invite a lawsuit by offering an opinion without another on-site examination, which wasn’t even a faint possibility. She had several hundred dollars more out-of-pocket expense before her high-deductible insurance would kick in. She wasn’t even certain how her policy treated emergency-room visits, as she hadn’t bothered to read the fine print.
    â€œWho, Daisy?” she repeated as Marty’s excited voice recalled her to the present. “She’s due in about three weeks, I just talked to her. Greg promised to let me know, and I’ll fly out.”
    â€œBut you hate flying,” Marty reminded her.
    â€œMy sinuses hate flying. The rest of me can take it or leave it, as long as it’s in first class.” For Daisy, she would risk a monster headache. The third member of the original matchmaking trio, Daisy was expecting in June, and Sasha had promised to stand as the baby’s godmother. A godchild, even one out in Oklahoma, mighthelp fill the sense of emptiness that been growing inside her for years.
    It was that same feeling of emptiness, not to mention a ticking biological clock that had driven her through four marriages in search of a prospective father for the child she wanted so desperately. She’d been married to husband number four when she discovered that, thanks to an early bout of endometriosis, her prospects for motherhood were dismal, at best.
    â€œOkay, hon, then I’ll see you in a day or so,” she promised and laid her cell phone on top of a wallpaper sample book.
    The antique monkey chair made an acceptable walker as long as she took care to plant all four legs squarely on the floor. She hadn’t mentioned her accident to Marty, knowing her friend would drop everything and rush over. If there was one thing Sasha didn’t need, it was hovering friends. She’d been called the proverbial hog on ice more than once, but she prided herself on her independence. It hadn’t come easy.
    She was halfway to the kitchen to exchange defrosted corn for frozen peas when the phone rang again. She was tempted to ignore it, but she’d been expecting a call from the Driftwinds property manager.
    Instead of Katie McIver, she heard a male voice that affected her like velvet sliding over naked skin. “Hi, Cinderella, you missing a slipper?”

Four
    â€œY ou have my shoe?” she said breathlessly. Sasha was never breathless, not unless she’d just dashed up three flights of stairs. Definitely not over the mere sound of a voice—or even over half a pair of shoes that had cost far more than she could afford. As miserable as they were, the suffering was worth it when it added five extra inches to her height and called attention to her best feature—her legs.
    â€œThe heel’s pretty messed up,” Jake told her, “I guess you could peel off the rest of the leather and paint it to match the other one. Want me to bring it to you?”
    â€œOh, that’s too much trouble.” Unconsciously, she smoothed her disheveled hair. She was wearing her comfortable old caftan and hadn’t bothered to put on her face.
    â€œI’ll be up in your neck of the woods this afternoon.”He paused, as if testing the atmosphere. “I could drop it off then.”
    She wanted