The Red Hat Society's Acting Their Age (22 page)

Leanne didn’t care that she wore only a jersey that stopped mid-thigh. Or that the temperature was no more than forty-five degrees and she wasn’t wearing a coat. She didn’t care that Buck Miller had ventured out front of his house. Let the whole neighborhood, the entire
town,
gawk.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled at her husband. Eddie met her at the Thurmans’ curb, and she poked a finger against his chest. “You’re spying on me.”

“Baby, please.” His brow wrinkled. “Give this up and come on home.”

“You took my photo, didn’t you?” She grabbed for the camera.

Eddie held it out of her reach. “This is nuts, Lea. I’ve talked to Cade. You’re in over your head here.” He nodded at the house. “All of you.”

“
You’re
calling
me
nuts?”

He backed up a step. “I didn’t say that.”

She poked him again. “
I’m
not the one hiding in the bushes like some lowlife paparazzi.”

He took another backward step. “I know what you women have up your sleeve. Cade and Roy do, too. Come clean, Lea. Talk to Cade.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Behind Eddie, the Thurmans’ door opened and Bobby Thurman came out carrying a lunch box. He looked Leanne up and down, his grin spreading slowly.

“Dang it, Lea. Cover yourself up.” Eddie took off his jacket and tugged it around her shoulders. He glared at Bobby and barked, “What are you looking at?”

Across the way, Buck Miller blurted a laugh that turned into a wheezing cough when Eddie glared at him, too.

Leanne jerked off the coat, threw it at Eddie, then turned and wobbled on the spiked heels back toward the house.

“Y’all are busted,” Eddie yelled after her.

She glanced over her shoulder, saw him lift the camera above his head, as if in explanation. “What does that prove?”

“I know those boots came from Jesse’s. And I know who took ’em.”

Leanne’s heart tripped. Pausing, she glanced down at her feet. “Jesse’s not the only place that carries boots like these. I bought them in Amarillo the other day.”

“You could’ve, but you didn’t.”

Leanne stared at her husband. For once, she didn’t know what to say. How could she have been so stupid as to come outside wearing Rachel’s stolen goods? Now Eddie had a photograph. Evidence for Cade.

Would it be enough for the judge to grant another warrant?

As predicted, the weather warmed to an almost springlike low sixties that afternoon. All the snow that had hidden in shaded areas, stubbornly refusing to leave, took off for parts unknown.

Aggie showed up at Mia’s close to noon and, when Leanne left for work, Rachel pleaded to go out to the backyard patio.

“After Leanne’s run-in with Eddie this morning, I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to leave the house, sugar.”

“
Please
? As if anybody will see us in the back yard.” Rachel kicked a toe against the couch. “I’m
going
totally
crazy
stuck in here.”

Aggie gave in. The patio sat close to the house, and a six-foot fence encased the yard. She couldn’t imagine that they’d even be noticed by anyone passing down the alley. And fresh air and sunshine would do them both good.

She was right; birdsong and the earthy scent of damp soil bolstered Aggie’s attitude. The temperature was perfect for their light jackets and jeans.

“Okay,” Rachel said, unscrewing the cap on a bottle of nail polish. “Roll up your jeans.”

Aggie pulled her chair around to face Rachel’s, then did as instructed. She stretched out one leg, propped her left foot in Rachel’s lap. “Lord.” Aggie shook her head as Rachel made the first stroke across her big toe. “A sixty-eight-year-old woman with pink glitter on her toenails. This stuff’s made for teenagers.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “
Duh.”

“So, you agree I look silly?”

Rachel shrugged. “Who cares? Do
you
like it?”

Aggie studied her foot and smiled. “I do. Just for fun, though.” Yes, it made her feel silly, but good, too. Happy and alive. So what if she was sixty-eight? She had a right to feel all of those things, didn’t she? Now should be one of the best times of her life, and she’d decided to turn it into just that. Roy could either enjoy it with her, or grow moldy sitting alone at home every night, week after week, with his TV remote and constant complaints. She’d leave that decision to him.

This morning at the shop, she’d heard through the Coots that Cade let Roy out of jail late last night. The stubborn ol’ mule still hadn’t called to apologize. Maybe he never would. It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if Roy chose living without her over admitting he’d done anything wrong.

Aggie gave a blissful sigh as a cool breeze tickled her bare toes. “This is pure heaven, Rachel. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Rachel finished Aggie’s left foot then sat back and admired her work. “I’m good. I used to want to be a makeup artist for horror movies. You know, aliens and vampires and stuff? But I could be a pedicure lady, too.”

“You could.” Aggie switched feet. “Or you could go to college.”

Rachel dipped the tiny brush into the polish. “College costs a buttload of money.”

Aggie had about given up on reminding the girl to watch her language. Just like she had with Leanne. “There are all kinds of ways to get money for school. Student loans and scholarships and such.”

“You’ve got to have good grades to get a scholarship. Mine stink.”

“How come? Don’t you study?”

Shrugging, Rachel kept her gaze focused on Aggie’s toes. “School bites.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found your niche.”

“What’s a niche?”

“The thing that holds your interest, that you love doing even if it’s hard work. Your passion, some people call it.”

Rachel glanced up briefly, the brush poised mid-air. “What’s yours?”

“Cooking, I suppose.”

“That’s Mia’s passion, too.”

“It’s something we have in common.”

“What about Leanne?”

Aggie thought about that. “Fashion. The woman loves to dress up. Always has.”

Rachel smiled. “Me, too.”

“Leanne’s other passion is kids. Teaching them.” Aggie cocked her head to the side. “Maybe you should ask her to help you with your studies. Leanne has a knack for making learning fun.”

“Why isn’t she still a teacher if she loves it so much and she’s good at it?”

“Sometimes a person needs a break, even from things they love. Time to re-evaluate and reconsider.”

Her own statement startled her. Was that what was going on with her and Roy? Did she need a break from him in order to figure out what
she
needed for a change? Without him barging in with his opinion, his needs, and pushing hers aside? She loved Roy. That would never change. But maybe her approach to their relationship needed a makeover, too. Just like her appearance.

“What would I do in college?” Rachel blew on Aggie’s wet toenails. “I mean, just when I think I know what I want to do, something else comes along and I want to do that too, you know? Like, I saw
Lord of the Rings
and decided to do movie makeup? Then the next week? I thought,
duh.
Why
do
Gollum’s makeup when I could
be
Gollum, instead?”

Aggie blinked over the tops of her glasses at the girl. “Who is Gollum?”

“Don’t you watch movies?”

Aggie shrugged. “Well, whoever she is, you can be whatever you want to be, Rachel. The sky’s the limit.”

Rachel shrugged. “Now that I’m learning to cook? I’m thinking maybe that’s my passion, too. Like you and Mia. I could be a famous chef with my own restaurant.”

“Now, there’s an idea.”

“Only no green foods in my restaurant.” Rachel shuddered. “And no loaves.”

Such a sweet girl, Aggie thought. But odder than all get out, sometimes. And indecisive.

Rachel’s brows drew together. “But, now I totally love sewing, too. Leanne says I’m a natural. We’re alike like that. Maybe I could be a clothes designer.” Her head came up, her eyes widening. Smiling broadly, she lifted the polish brush and pointed it at Aggie. “I know! Leanne and I could be designing partners!”

Aggie smiled, too. “I think you’re on to something.”

Rachel’s hand paused halfway down to Aggie’s last toe. She glanced toward the fence separating Mia’s backyard from Buck Miller’s. “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“A noise in that tree next door. It moved, too.” Rachel leaned forward, squinted. “Something’s up there.”

“Probably a squirrel,” Aggie said, then heard a loud sneeze from that direction. She removed her leg from Rachel’s lap, jumped up, moved to the patio’s edge. Her heart lurched when she peered toward the treetop and spotted the cause of all the commotion. “Get inside,” she said quietly to Rachel. “That’s no squirrel.” It was a two-hundred-forty-pound, gray-haired, pot-bellied weasel.

As Rachel escaped through the back door into the house, Aggie hobbled toward the fence, keeping her wet toes pointed skyward. “Roy Dean Cobb, come down here this minute.”

Roy lifted a camera, pointed it at her, snapped.

“Why are you taking my picture? And wearing your hunting cammo? Does Buck Miller know you’re in his tree?”

He snapped again.

Aggie reached the fence. She couldn’t see over it, so she peeped through a knothole, only to find an eyeball staring at her. She screamed and jumped back, ruining her pedicure. “Is that you, Buck?” Moving away from the fence, Aggie held her hand up to shade her eyes and glared at Roy in the tree again. “Get down!”

Behind her, she heard the back door open. Turning, she saw Rachel running toward her.

“No!” Aggie hissed, flapping her hands. “Go back!” She returned her attention to Roy in time to see him lift the camera again.

“Use this,” Rachel said, handing her a sling shot. “I found it in the boys’ room.”

Aggie’s hand shook, half from nerves, half from fury, as she took the slingshot from Rachel then reached down into the dead grass for a pebble. She’d show that man a thing or two. How dare he spy on her? Placing the pebble into the leather sling, she looked up at her husband, closed one eye, and aimed. She took a deep breath. Her hand steadied.

“Now, Aggie girl. You wouldn’t shoot me,” Roy called down. Then, in a small voice, “Would you?” When she didn’t answer or lower the slingshot, he gave a nervous laugh. “You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, woman.”

“Maybe not, but I bet I can hit the broad side of you. My big brothers taught me a few things when we were kids.”

The tree branches trembled as Roy scrambled to get down. Turning his back to her, he wrapped his arms and legs around the trunk and clung like ivy around a lamppost.

Aggie turned loose. The pebble hit Roy sqaure in the butt.

He cried out, let go, and crashed to the ground.

“Roy!” Aggie screamed. Dropping the slingshot, she ran to the fence and climbed up on the lower support bar. “Oh Lord, sugar, are you hurt?”

Roy lay on the ground, the camera and Buck Miller beside him. He pushed up on one elbow, his face twisted and turning from bright red to purple. “I’m coming over there,” he roared. Rolling to his hands and knees, he started crawling toward the fence.

Aggie jumped down. She turned and started running. “Oh, no, you’re not.”

“Oh, yes I am.”

Ahead of her, Rachel slipped inside the back door. “You’re not invited,” she yelled.

Darting into the house behind Rachel, Aggie slammed the door and turned the lock.

Seconds later, the pounding started. “Enough is enough, woman!” Roy boomed.

“Go away. You’re trespassing.” Aggie tried to catch her breath.

“I got pictures of that girl paintin’ your toes, Aggie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Aggie covered her ears and said a silent prayer that the camera had broken when Roy fell from the tree.

Chapter 17

T
hat evening, Cade pulled to a stop at the edge of a rocky, dirt road. “This is it.” He turned off the truck. “What do you think?”

Mia studied the grassy section of land. It stretched to a canyon wall layered in shades of clay pink, red, and rusty sienna. The evening sun set the wall ablaze. She imagined the cottonwood trees in spring, their branches filled with dancing green leaves. “It’s beautiful, Cade.”

“You really think so?”

Glancing across the seat at him, Mia smiled. “I do.”

He stared out the window again, a faraway look in his eyes, as if he saw something no one else did. A fishing shack? Mia wondered. During the drive over, he had mentioned a small lake somewhere close by.

“Let’s take a look.” Cade reached for his door handle.

As they walked to the back of the truck, Mia asked, “Why did you change your mind about building? It’s a perfect spot for a house.”

He shrugged. “Maybe I will one of these days. Until then, it’s a good place just to get away and hike around with Bart.”

At the sound of his name, the golden retriever in the truck bed whined. He jumped up, placed his front paws on the edge.

Cade let him out. “Too lazy to jump over now, is that it?” he said to the dog, tossing a stick that Bart ran after.

“How much of this land is yours?” Mia asked.

“Just ten acres.”

“What are you waiting for? You should go ahead and build. It’s not too far from town. It’s so peaceful.”

“I don’t know. Seems wrong somehow to build a place for just me. Like something’s missing.” He took off his hat and put it inside the truck. “And I imagine it’d get lonely living out here by myself, peaceful or not.”

“I think you should get started.” She laughed. “As they say, none of us are getting any younger.”

“That’s for sure. And I’m tired of waiting.”

Bart ran up to Cade, tail wagging, the stick in his mouth. Cade threw it again.

Mia had the impression he wasn’t only talking about building a house, that he was also tired of waiting to meet the right person with whom to share it. She knew Jill had been the one to leave their marriage. At least, those were the rumors. Cade had brought a city girl to the country, and she couldn’t make it fit her. Trouble was, the city didn’t fit Cade. Neither could find a compromise.