by Fiona Archer
“We understand, Quinn.” Ryan’s eyes sparked with humor. “Our Penny has a way of being heard whether the timing is right or not.” Ignoring his wife’s humph, he grinned as he and Parker steered her toward the counter. “We’ll leave you fellas to talk.”
Mike rejoined them. The tightness of his jaw didn’t bode well. And his words soon proved Quinn right.
“That was Alex. The side issue we’ve been working on has heated up. You’re needed in Seattle.”
“Just me?”
“I told them I couldn’t leave. I volunteered you.”
Made sense. He’d been the one concentrating on this case. A daughter of a prominent politician had gotten herself mixed up in the wrong company, who were now using the daughter’s transgressions to blackmail Daddy.
The sheriff’s gaze narrowed. “Something big?”
Quinn fixed him with a level stare. “Sensitive.”
“Understood.” Caleb rose. “I’ll leave you to make your plans. Mike, keep in contact.” He shook both their hands, made a move to turn, then halted. “Reagan’s hurting. Needs to lash out at someone. Give her some time.” His blue eyes clouded as his voice grew somber. “But don’t leave it too long. Sometimes they need to know you’re prepared to fight for them whether they like it or not.” With a twist of his lips, he turned and walked toward the entry, taking time to stop and say hello to people along the way.
One of these days he was gonna get Caleb good and drunk and find out what the fuck happened between him and Purdy. Maybe their next poker game.
Mike opened his wallet and laid down some bills plus a healthy tip for Penny. “Alex’s organized a private jet to pick you up in Sheridan. You have two hours. He expects you’ll need to be there at least five days.”
“Fine.” They exited the diner and made their way to his truck. As if by mutual decision, they didn’t resume conversation until inside the privacy of the vehicle.
Quinn turned his key in the ignition. “I’ll call Alex once we’re at the ranch. I’m sorry I’m leaving you with things unsettled here.”
Mike’s sigh seemed to fill the truck’s cab. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll watch over our Reagan.”
Quinn’s chest clenched. They weren’t flying any fucking flag of surrender.
“We hurt her.” Saying the words didn’t assuage any guilt.
“Bound to happen. We cut the knees out from under her hero.” Mike glanced over at him as Quinn waited for the town’s one traffic light to turn green. “But that’s not what concerns you. You’re worried about why she kicked us out of her life entirely.”
“Yes. The dad thing I understand. The other? There’s something going on there we haven’t worked out.” The coldness of her tone when she’d dismissed them smacked him in the face harder than any slap she could deliver. “You’ll need to dig deeper while I’m away.”
“I’ll give her space. Try to find some answers. Regardless of what I find, that’s the fucking end of us keeping a polite distance.”
“Agreed. We’ve come too far.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “She was beginning to trust us.” After so long. “I’m not imagining that, right?”
Mike curled his hand into a fist. “Fuck no. She was thriving, gaining confidence. Did you see her this morning, as she kissed me good-bye? Little minx pinched my ass!” A spark of admiration warmed his voice.
“I caught that.” Then she’d winked at him and laughed, one of those head-tilted-back laughs that had the soul-lifting power to raise him a foot off the ground. “And now she’s crying.”
A sudden pall invaded the cabin, creeping over him like a fog, soaking into the pores of his skin, filling him with a sense of dread. Her rejection shocked him, left him feeling empty, wanting, as if a chasm had opened up in his chest that nothing but her smile could fill. “We have to get her back.”
“Don’t worry, buddy. Whatever the hell spooked her, we’ll identify the threat.” Mike’s voice dropped to a chilling cadence. “And neutralize it.”
That suited Quinn. It’s what they were trained for. And if they couldn’t protect Reagan, what fucking good were they?
Chapter Eight
With a groan, Reagan climbed out of Purdy’s VW and joined Chloe on the sidewalk as their friend locked her car. Need coffee. Now. Reagan glanced down at her hastily donned jeans and green cotton smock. At least they were clean and pressed. “I can’t believe you turned up at 9:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, my one day off this weekend, and refused to let me make coffee before dragging me out of the house.”
Chloe’s eyes shone with mischief. “Hey, we came up to liberate you from your tower, not to spend extra time there.”
She felt the smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Oh? I didn’t realize I’d locked myself away.”
Purdy stepped up beside her. Those keen blue eyes of hers held a note of concern. “Thursday you canceled dinner at my house and then last night you didn’t answer either of our messages.”
Eeek. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I had some wine.” Anything to take her mind off two men. “You know me, one glass and I’m relaxed. Two and I’m asleep.”
She glanced down Victoria Street. People bustled about on their Saturday morning, calling out greetings to each other and giving a wave. Tulips filled the large planters spaced along the sidewalks, heralding the spring season, a time of freshness, sunshine, and rebirth.
How fitting considering their destination of the newly reopened and renamed beauty salon.
Still, guilt and the knowledge she’d be working tomorrow made her think of all the things she’d left for later. “I should be writing my notes for the Q&A evening at the diner.”
Chloe shook her head. “That’s not for another week. We’ll help you later, promise. Right now, it’s girl time.” She clicked her fingers and pointed her thumb over her shoulder to down the street. “Let’s move.”
For a shorty like herself and Purdy, the chestnut-haired teacher had some game. “When did you become so bossy?”
“Survival against my husbands. Boss or be bossed.” She giggled and tugged on Reagan’s hand.
Now, as they walked past Gunnerson’s Drug Store and up to the entrance of Beauty To Dye For, Reagan’s curiosity ran at full steam. For months the windows of the town’s former beauty salon had been papered over, waiting for someone to show it some love after the previous owner moved to Florida to be with her kids.
Noah King, the landlord, had run ads in trade magazines all over the US seeking a new owner. For the last ten months or more, the women of King’s Bluff had made do with infrequent visits to Sheridan for their beauty needs. During winter, a snap blizzard could leave a person stranded in the city. It was a high price to pay for a quick manicure or hair trim.
As they entered, Reagan admired the soothing colors of granny-smith-apple green and white, interspaced with panels of light birch veneer in the four hair stations and the base of the rinsing area. On the near sidewall, glass shelving held rows of amber-colored bottles in various sizes with plain labels. The scent of vanilla wafted in the air in keeping with the lilting instrumental music playing through hidden speakers.
Chloe and Purdy stepped away to the side, revealing a long beige couch, full of her friends.
“Surprise!” shouted Penny, her titian hair wrapped up in Velcro curlers. Beside her, Purdy’s mom, Laura, waved as she soaked her feet in a square dish.
“About time you three turned up.” Gretchen Stewart winked as she blew on what looked like freshly painted plum-colored fingernails.
Woman-of-the-soil Gretchen was getting her nails polished? Now that was a first.
Chloe reached over, giving Reagan a quick hug. “This is for you, girlfriend. After the week you’ve had, a few of us got together and decided you needed some spoiling. Pick whatever treatment you want. We plan to hang around and eat pastries and drink coffee and basically waste away the day.”
She bounced her gaze between each woman. “You did
this for me?” Her throat muscles tightened. “I never guessed, I mean…” She shook her head, looking at everyone. “Thank you.”
“I know. We’re fantastic.” Purdy kissed her on the cheek before joining her mom on the couch.
Chloe pulled up one of the deep tan chairs paired with each hair station. “We are a devious lot. Including organizing Katie to switch days with you at the library. I offered her a deal she couldn’t refuse—my number one spot on the library’s Black Dagger Brotherhood waiting list.”
“So the family luncheon tomorrow for her great aunt was nothing more than a scam?” The young volunteer had teared up when she’d asked Reagan to swap. Talk about a commitment to the task, and to her love of a good story.
“She really wants to read those books.”
“I see the guest of honor has arrived.” A woman, possibly in her late twenties, walked out from the salon’s back area. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves past her shoulders. Dark cotton pants and a cheesecloth embroidered top accentuated her body’s stunning curves. A long jade necklace added length to the slim line of her neck. However, it was the clear azure blue of her eyes which snagged Reagan’s attention. That and the genuine warmth of her smile.
“Hi, I’m Lark Adams, owner of Beauty To Dye For.” She extended her hand.
Reagan mirrored the gesture, impressed by Lark’s firm but not overly aggressive grip. She respected a good handshake. “Reagan Edwards. Welcome to King’s Bluff, Lark.”
Lark gazed around at the assembled clientele. A sense of calm confidence seemed to radiate from the woman. “Thank you. Your friends have blessed me with a wonderful opening day. The ladies have booked me out until after lunch. Chloe’s down for a pedicure and Purdy chose a head and neck massage, right?”
Purdy rolled her shoulders. “Oh, yes, please.”
The salon owner turned those startling blue eyes on Reagan. “And for you?” Catching Reagan’s raised eyebrows and open mouth, she chuckled. “Caught you by surprise, didn’t they?” Her gaze focused on Reagan’s ponytail. She lifted up her hands and gestured toward Reagan’s head. “Do you mind?
“Um, no.”
With a gentleness Reagan never seemed to be able to muster, Lark unwound the ponytail’s rubber band and ran her fingers through the long tresses, fluffing it out around her shoulders. “You have gorgeous hair. Dark with a few natural highlights.” She lifted up some strands, bouncing them in her hand. “Did you know you have a wave? Hard to detect with the weight of the length, but it’s there. Have you ever thought of a layered cut?”
“Ah, not really.” Her history of extravagant hair treatments was her regular quarterly trim.
“That sounds fantastic.” Penny nodded, her fuchsia-painted lips stretched wide in a smile.
“I like the sound of that. Give it a try, sweetie,” Laura Daniels urged. With her short blonde curls and playful sense of humor, it was easy to see how Purdy would age in the years to come.
“Go on, Reagan. It’s time for a change.” Purdy sat forward, the sharp intensity of her gaze compelling. “It’s time for a new you.”
Silence filled the salon. A new me. Hadn’t she started moving in that direction by standing for election and dating Mike and Quinn?
A sudden emptiness invaded her system, threatening to swamp the joy at her friends’ generosity. Stop it! She’d made her choice. Her father over her men.
It was safer for her to concentrate on building a “new her.” Would a change in hairstyle honestly make that much of a difference?
“Sometimes we’re not ready to accept change until it’s upon us.” Lark stepped back as if understanding Reagan needed space to think. “And other times it’s a lifeline we grab on to when our normal life suffocates us. A new haircut can be a symbol of our embracing that change, taking a step forward.”
She fingered a strand of hair. It was the same plain, one-length look as always. Boring. Maybe a new style would help give her a lift. More importantly, it would reinforce to Wagner and his flunkies that there was more to the shy, bookish Reagan than they’d first imagined.
She allowed a smile to spread over her face. “I’m in.”
“Success!” Chloe clapped as the other women cheered.
“Let’s do it.” Lark handed out index cards and pens to her, Chloe, and Purdy. “If you can fill in these client profiles, then we’ll begin Reagan’s transformation.” Her wink went a long way to easing the pitter-patter of nervousness that danced in Reagan’s belly. “I know the ladies are running to the diner for coffee, but I have water and a selection of herbal teas if you’re interested.”
“Water for me, thanks,” said Purdy while Chloe politely declined the offer.
Her previous craving for coffee had evaporated under Lark’s offer. A refreshing tea sounded lovely. “I’d love a tea, please. You choose the blend.”
Lark smiled at the gesture of trust and removed herself to the back of the salon.
Penny eyed the assembled gathering. “Isn’t she a sweetheart?” She pursed her lips before nodding. “And she knows how to roll up hair.” Penny patted her curlers. “Not many of the younger stylists do. I think she’ll fit in just fine.”
“She has a sense of calm about her.” Laura eyed her daughter as Purdy riffled through her knapsack-sized red patent leather handbag, growling as whatever quarry she sought eluded her. “Of which I admire.”
“What are you trying to say?” The younger Daniels woman poked her tongue out at her mother. “Yeah, she seems lovely. All we had to go on was the name and phone number pasted on the store window. When I called her on Tuesday and explained our plans, she couldn’t wait to get things organized.”
“Have you read the salon’s treatment menu?” Gretchen held up a sheet of paper. “Mandarin Foot Sherbie, Pistachio and Wattle Seed Scrub-A-Dub-Dub, and,—okay, this is my favorite—Banana Cream Pie Hair Conditioning Treatment.”
“Makes you want to gobble up whatever’s in those amber jars like it’s a dessert.” Reagan finished completing her card as Lark returned carrying a tray with a chilled glass of water and her tea.
“Here you go.” She handed Purdy her drink and then Reagan a clear glass mug of tea complete with floating sprigs of mint. “I chose an apple-mint blend to freshen your mind and spirit.”
Reagan took a sip, and the taste was delightfully refreshing.
“I’ll just review your cards.” Lark collected up the squares, giving them a thorough study before organizing Chloe’s foot bath.
Laura received an exfoliating foot rub, as then did Chloe before they had their feet cleaned and slathered in a rich, coconut-smelling cream. Cotton socks were provided as the ladies sipped coffee and munched on some of Penny’s finest pastries.
Reagan had enough time to finish her tea before being ushered over to the rinsing station.
Tepid water wet her scalp, then a vibrant herbal scent filled her nostrils as Lark massaged in shampoo. “Oh, my, that smells amazing.”
She could hear the pride in Lark’s voice as the woman answered. “That’s mother nature for you. All my products are certified organic and cruelty free. There are also no animal by-products.”
She liked her already.
“I understand today you can work around us, but how are you planning to manage the customer flow on your own?”
“I’ve been encouraged by the amount of future bookings to hire a part-timer. Monday I have a local woman trying out for the position.”
“That’s great, Lark. The locals will warm to you offering employment.”
“Fingers crossed. I want to make this town my home. From my discussions with Noah King, this area has heaps of promise. But that’s enough talk. Close your eyes and relax.” Sure fingers rubbed Reagan’s scalp, hitting pressure points at the base of her skull and on the crown of her head. “Breathe deep through your nose and out through your mouth. That’s it. Just let yourself drift away.”
Tingles raced over the skin of her neck and shoulders. “Mmmm, whateveryou
say.” The words slid out of her mouth like melted butter.
At some point, there was more water, another potion added to her hair, and then a final rinse. By the time Lark eased her up into a sitting position, Reagan was the most relaxed she’d been in days.
Wearing her requisite cape, she seated herself at the hair station closest to the ladies.
Lark glided over to Reagan and then turned the chair so she faced the mirror.
“I recommend a softer layered cut.” Lark leaned back, examining Reagan’s wet strands. “Say we take two inches off the bottom. You’ll still have plenty of length and the layers will bring out your wave to maximum effect.”
A new me. “Sounds great, please go ahead.”
Lark combed and snipped. After a few minutes, Chloe and Purdy dragged seats over from the other hair stations.
Chloe examined the edge of one nail. “Have you finished your reading for book club next Tuesday?”
Reagan nodded before thinking. “Oops, sorry!”
Lark waved off her apology and continued her task.
This time she simply focused on Chloe’s reflection in the mirror. “Yep, all read up and prepared for discussion. And I’ve picked out June’s reading too. You’re going to love it.”
“Is this book club from the library, Bound by the Books?” Lark’s voice held an undercurrent of excitement.
Reagan stared at the salon owner’s reflection. “Sure. Are you thinking of joining?”
Lark’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “I’ve already lodged my application. I spoke to Phyllis the other day. Once I told her I fully understood the nature of the stories and discussions, she gave me conditional approval so I could attend the next meeting.”
“Terrific.” Chloe went to say more but paused before continuing. “Hey, you’re living in the apartment upstairs, right?”
Lark lifted her brows. “Yes, how did you—”
Purdy snorted. “Small town. No secrets. And she’s married to your landlord.”
Chloe rolled her eyes. “Anyway, Penny leaves straight from the diner. Next meeting’s at my place. You’ve never driven out to King’s Haven. I’m sure she’ll give you a lift.”
