"You done trifled with that girl, ain't you?" Steven swallowed a bite of sausage before answering. "In a manner of speaking," he confessed, remembering the warm softness of Emma's breasts, and the way their peaks had hardened for him like sweet candy. Daisy's hardworking hands were resting on her generous hips. "There gonna be a baby?" Steven shook his head. Things hadn't gone quite that far; no, Emma's babies would probably look like that banker Callie had told him about, not him, and the realization filled him with sadness. "No chance of that, Daisy, so you don't need to worry." "Well, I is worried," Daisy insisted. "Miss Emma ain't herself. She's off her food, she don't sleep at night. Not only that, she don't argue back with me or Chloe when we bosses her around. Somethin's wrong." Steven's appetite was gone, and he laid down his fork. "She'll be all right," he promised gently, but he wasn't at all sure of that."