Lone Tree (11 page)

“Shampoo, haircut, blow dry and styling—takes a
while—then supper.”

“Whatever time it takes, it’s worth it.” He
stretched his arm out to smooth her hair, then his hand traveled slowly to her
neck and lingered there. “It’s pretty.”

She felt that touch all the way to her groin, toes,
and then it tingled its way back up again.

She twisted to shrug his hand away. His hand
dropped, but her action had been delayed and both of them knew it. Her eyes
remained on the road, her hands on the wheel, yet she suspected he was as much
in the driver’s seat as she was.

Fortunately they were at the outskirts of town, and
soon she pulled over and braked at the garage. Jackie Lyn stood in front of her
shop across the street. Reed tipped his hat to her as he exited the car then he
walked around to Lainie’s open window, squatted, and crossed his arms on the
window frame. He stared in at her, taking his time as he always did.

“Obliged.” His eyes said he appreciated more than
just the ride.

“No problem.” She was determined that the imprint of
his hand on the back of her neck was, indeed, not going to be a problem.

Their gazes held, amusement and challenge in his,
I’m-not-gonna-blink-first resolve in hers. Finally, he straightened, tipped his
hat with his forefinger and then strode into the garage.

Jackie caught Lainie’s eye and fanned her face with
her hand, as if commenting upon the weather. But the look on her face told
Lainie it wasn’t the weather she was commenting on. Lainie shook her head, felt
herself blushing,
for no reason
, checked her mirror for traffic, then
made a U-turn and parked directly in front of Jackie.

“Don’t go there,” she told her as she got out of the
car.

Jackie went there anyway, of course. “My, my. Lovely
couple. Such...chemistry.”

Lainie ignored her. Jackie readied her client for
the shampoo, adjusted the spray of water and applied it to her customer’s head.

“That’s too cold,” Lainie said.

“Thought you might need some coolin’ off.”

“Oh, for...Jackie, you—”

“Best be careful what you say, girl. Seems I got the
upper hand with this water hose here.”

Lainie gave up. Once the shampoo was completed, she
got out of that chair and settled in the one at the mirror without further
comment.

Jackie picked up comb and scissors. “Don’t think
you’ve been completely honest with me. You must be pinin’ away for someone you
left behind in California. No other reason for you to be keepin’ your distance
from a man like Reed.”

Silence.

“Or maybe you just said no, thank you when they
handed out common sense?”

More silence.

“Appears to me you got your share of hormones,
though.”

Despite herself, Lainie laughed. “Madame matchmaker,
can you let it be, please? This is one match you won’t be making.”

“What makes you think that?”

“When do you think you’re going to be through here?
My sitting-down place is getting tired.”

“Sure it is. You’re sittin’ on your brains.” She
tugged her customer’s hair a little harder than her customer thought was
necessary. “You’re surely not the smartest girl in the world, Lainie Johnson.
You’ve got a steady and responsible, good-looking man interested in you. And I
don’t care how much you deny it, you’re just as interested in him. He’s got a
good job and a good future. He’s unattached—”

“How long has he been unattached?”

“Seems I hooked me a fish here.” With a grin Jackie
reached for the blow dryer. “Heard he met somebody in college—the old man put
him through school. Don’t know if you knew that—but nothing came of the
relationship. Couldn’t stand the test of time and distance, I imagine.”

“Miles put Reed through college?” Lainie wasn’t
surprised he was a college graduate. Although he often reverted to a lazy
drawl, dropping
G
s everywhere, his speech and quick grasp of anything
fired at him suggested a good education.

“Yep. Hired him when he was just a fresh young kid.
Must’ve seen his potential. The boy was an orphan. Lived with his grandma, but
she’s since passed on. My folks say Reed and Miles worked out a deal where Reed
worked off the debt, but I don’t think Miles was concerned with that part of
it. He wanted a good foreman, and he got one.”

The more Lainie learned about Miles, the more of a
puzzle he became. “Generous,” she said.

“Yep. Now he’s talking to Randy and his folks. They
need a second-in-command out there. At first Miles and Reed shared the load,
but this past year it mostly fell on Reed. He needs an assistant, and they’re
grooming Randy.”

“Sounds like a good deal for him.”

“Better than good. Bobbie Ann doesn’t want to lose
him for the time he’d be at college, but he and his folks know it’s a good
deal. Better yet, my mama and daddy know it’s an excellent opportunity for the
man who’s going to marry their baby girl. And my gut feeling is that Randy’s
going to college.”

After a short silence, Lainie asked thoughtfully,
“Has he always been such a flirt?”

Jackie’s eyes grew big as saucers and her hands
froze in midair. “Randy?”

Lainie exploded into laughter. It was doubtful that
the timid, retiring Randy even knew the meaning of the word flirtation.

“Well, girl,” Jackie said, shaking her head and
letting her own laugh out. “That’s who we were talkin’ about. And you said my
conversation jumps all over the place. Now sit up straight and let me finish my
job here.”

Lainie did as bidden.

“Okay, I got it now,” Jackie said as she fluffed
hair with her fingers. “You must mean Reed. Though I never thought of him as
bein’ on the flirty side.” Her expression turned satisfied, as if she’d been
proved right about something. “But I can’t say I’m surprised you see him that
way. And I think I know how he sees you. There’s a sizzle between you two that
a blind man couldn’t miss.”

*

Sitting in front of her computer in her cottage that
evening, Lainie clicked into email, highlighted the address she wanted, and
then clicked compose.

Hi
Alison,

It
hasn’t been two whole months yet, but I feel at home here. I especially like
the laid-back style. Everybody works hard, but still has time.

Rosalie
gave me a tour of the main house and showed me a bedroom with a canopy-covered
bed in shades of orchid and purple, Mama’s favorite colors. Rosalie explained
it’d been Miles’s daughter’s room, and he’d refused to change it in any way.
She and Angie clean it every week, just like all the other rooms.

I
want to get back in there. There were things on the desk and dresser, picture
frames and such, and I want to take my time and look at everything. But it’s in
the back of the house, near Miles’s personal quarters, and I can’t just wander
around there on my own.

Regarding
Miles, he’s still an enigma and probably always will be. Mom had a hard side to
her—Dad and I didn’t cross her unless we had to—and she and her father were
most likely just too much alike. When they went head to head, neither one would
back down, and they both lost. I can’t think of anything more tragic or stupid.
At times I feel angry enough I wish I could knock both their heads together.
But of course I don’t know all of the story, and probably never will.

The
most intriguing personality here belongs to Reed. I already told you about him.
Believe me, if I let myself, I could fall for him in a big way. But I’d be a
fool to let that happen. I’m carrying too many secrets to become involved in a
romantic relationship.

Yet
I feel like a fool for letting him get away.

“Oh,
what a tangled web we weave...”

Lainie typed her name, clicked send, then leaned
back in her chair and stared at the monitor.

Yes, she was trapped by the web she’d woven, yet
part of her continued to hold back from leveling with her grandfather. She
still blamed him for the pain she’d seen in her mother. And Lainie still didn’t
know what role he’d played in the relationship between her parents. Until she
was able to trust Miles Auburn, she had to continue to hold herself in reserve.
Regardless of what it cost her.

Temper was a hard one for Carl Henry. It’d already
caused him more than its share of grief, and it’d just done it again.

Taggart wasn’t the biggest buck in the yard, but he
was the meanest and he was a former boxer. He wasn’t a man to fool with. When
they’d bumped into each other, Carl should’ve kept his eyes down and mouth
shut. Instead, he’d mouthed off and pushed back, and everybody knew that nobody
pushed the boxer around.

Sure enough, Taggart found him in laundry before
twenty-four hours had passed. The guard’s attention was on a scuffle that broke
out in the doorway—most likely engineered by Tag—while Tag took care of Carl
Henry.

Because he was no match for the boxer, Carl simply
hunched up to protect his head and groin and took blows upon his shoulders
without offering resistance. But when Tag smashed a fist into his ear, a bolt
of pain rocked Carl’s head back and then a roundhouse exploded on his jaw that
put him down. He wound himself into a ball, but was unable to protect his
kidneys and he got rocked by a brutal kick.

As Carl had hoped, Tag soon tired of the one-sided
contest. One more well-placed kick, a muttered oath and then he was gone.

Carl Henry remained on his side, doubled up and
breathing in shallow pants. While he waited for his vision to clear, his mind
filled with images of payback. But it wasn’t Taggart in those images. Those
do-nothing idiots on the parole board were responsible for the fix he was in,
and they’d pay. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know who they were. Anyone on
the outside would do; they were all alike.

Then there were those special two in that nothing
little town he’d come from who’d put him here in the first place. They needed
payback. Oh, yes, indeedy, they needed payback in the worst way.

Violence was part of Carl Henry. He understood and
accepted it in Taggart, and he’d accepted it in Miles Auburn. The old man had
the drop on Carl, had whipped him with the stock of his rifle, and that had
been the man’s due—Carl Henry had been caught red-handed. What he didn’t accept
was that the old man had then brought the law into it. Once arrested and
jailed, a train of events got started and didn’t stop until Carl was convicted
of breaking and entering, attempted robbery, then rape and attempted murder.
The more serious episode had happened two months earlier, but the connection wasn’t
made until Carl was in custody. He’d thought the man was dead when he’d turned
his attention to the woman, but not so. Carl was convicted on his testimony.
The girlfriend had been too traumatized to testify.

As far as sex was concerned, it wasn’t that force
was necessary; it was merely preferable. He wasn’t bad looking, could turn the
charm on and off at will, but he liked sex better when it was violent. When she
was scared like she should be and it showed. Jackie Lyn had found that out,
early on, and she’d be reminded again, real soon, when he got out of here.
Little Miss Priss had refused to give him an alibi when he needed it, and for
that she would pay.

And he was getting out of here. His ma was finally
doing what she was supposed to do—take care of her son. She’d hired a new
lawyer, one who specialized in paroles, and the dude had put together a pretty
good case. It was so positive, Carl didn’t even recognize himself.

He felt it in his bones. This time he was going to
do it. He was on his way out.

The annual rodeo, scheduled for August, was not only
the talk of the town, the subject also dominated mealtime conversations at Lone
Tree. Randy and friends had decided they needed practice, Miles had allowed
them to cull livestock from the herd, and the men had put together a makeshift
arena at the fairgrounds.

At supper one evening, Reed nodded at Randy’s
suggestion that he drive out to watch the evening’s practice session, and as he
rose from his chair he glanced down at Lainie. “Come along?”

Doubting that he had romance in mind—what with all
the cattle and cowboys—she nodded. “Thanks.” It sounded interesting.

“Best be careful where you put your feet,” Miles
said mildly, and that got her into her boots faster than the threat of snakes
had.

During the drive, she asked Reed if he’d signed up
for any rodeo events.

“Nope.” His lips curved. “That’s not what I’m good
at.”

Watching his profile, she decided not to ask him
what he was good at. He’d probably tell her.

As she exited the truck, she saw Bobbie Ann and
another woman at the far end where the cowboys were gathered. That appeared to
be the business end of things, but Reed seemed content here, so Lainie stayed
put and exchanged waves with Bobbie.

The steers were bunched into narrow runways, driven
forward to a gate, prodded singly into the arena and cowboys took turns roping.
Flies hovered as the steers were herded near where Reed and Lainie stood, and
the smell became intense. Lainie backed a step just as the nearest animal
swished its tail. The stink grew suddenly stronger and she felt something warm
and wet on her stomach, just below her bra. She looked down at her pretty
black-and-white-checkered shirt with black braid trim.