She had a lot to be thankful for, she realized as the minister ended his short talk with a prayer. She barely noticed when James enclosed her fingers in his warm ones, but as she raised her head after the “amen,” she realized they were standing very near and actually holding hands in public.
“I saw you in the park earlier in the day,” he said.
“That was you I felt watching me?”
“You noticed?” One eyebrow quirked up and then he nodded. “I wasn’t spying.”
“I believe you,” she said softly, leaning closer. She’d felt lonely after the movie, seeing the families. Now she was surrounded by people, and the only person she wanted to be with was right beside her.
And she didn’t need to encourage him. For some reason—maybe the one that said “opposites attract”—she tempted him. Maybe he only desired her in a physical sense. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, and maybe she didn’t know what she wanted with him, either.
Santa, all I want for Christmas is a hunky lawyer. She should wish for something more practical, like a new engine.
“Time to go!” Clarissa said, bustling through the crowd. “Time to get to the community center.”
When everyone started filing out of the little park toward the community center, Scarlett lagged behind. “Maybe I should go on back to the salon.”
“No! Why don’t you want to join us?” James asked in surprise.
“Because I’m not one of you, despite the costume.”
He looked at her in the darkness, and suddenly she felt silly. All those insecurities. All the doubts about acceptance…About him. “Oh, okay. I’ll go the community center with you. Just don’t try any funny stuff,” she warned with mock severity.
“Scarlett, please—” he began, but she cut him off.
“I told you I’d go. Let’s get over there before everything is gone.” She grabbed his hand and pulled. “Although I’m not sure I can eat anything after those yummy cookies your mother made.”
James looked as though he wanted to say something else, but thankfully, he didn’t.
She hurried after the cheerful folks strolling down the street.
“DID YOU HEAR what Venetia said?” his mother asked later at the community center, while Scarlett was in the ladies room.
“No, I didn’t.”
“She was telling us about little Hailey Wright. That’s Jennifer Hopkins’s—well, now Jennifer Wright’s—daughter.”
“What about her?” He saw Jennifer around town every now and then. He didn’t remember seeing her daughter lately.
Venetia returned with a cup of green, frothy punch. “She came into the salon yesterday to get her first haircut and style after her chemo treatments.”
“No, I hadn’t realized she was back home. Is she okay?”
“She’s still weak, but getting better,” Venetia said. “The thing is, you’d think a wild child like Scarlett wouldn’t be good with a frail little girl like that, but it was the darnedest thing. Hailey took to her right away, and Scarlett was just as gentle as could be. Wouldn’t let the little girl get her hair dyed red, styled into spikes or anything weird. She complimented Hailey until she was grinning from ear to ear.”
“Scarlett’s really very nice,” James said.
Venetia shook her head. “I’ve sure changed my mind. I didn’t think she was all that great for business, or good to have around, but now I do.”
“Well, maybe we won’t have as many people coming into the office, complaining about their hair,” James’s mother said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t hold your breath. Some people just love to complain,” he replied, thinking of those who were still a bit lawsuit-crazy. With any luck, there would be no more talk about a class action suit. And with more stories like the one Venetia had told, soon Scarlett would be seen as someone other than a wild, red-haired stranger.
Scarlett returned to the small group, followed by Clarissa. Within moments James excused himself. He wanted to talk to other men for a while. He needed a break from Scarlett’s flashy saloon girl costume, which made her all too tempting.
But on the other hand, he knew her vulnerability, shown in her forced good humor and full-speed-ahead attitude, was even more compelling. If he wasn’t careful, he’d start caring way too much about someone who would be out of his life in a flash.
So he’d talk to Rodney Bell and Troy Crawford for a while, then escort Scarlett back to the salon, unless she walked with Clarissa and Venetia. He wouldn’t get in trouble with Scarlett, his mother or her friends if he remembered to behave himself.
JAMES STAYED AWAY as long as he could on Monday, but since he had to get out, anyway, he walked to the salon to see if Scarlett was selling or keeping the Mercedes. He didn’t like the feeling that his curiosity could get the best of him. But he didn’t seem to possess his usual self-control around a certain redhead.
He walked up the steps to the little back porch so he wouldn’t draw too much attention to himself and Scarlett by standing in front of the big picture window for everyone to see. He was just about to knock on the door when it burst open, nearly toppling him backward. He instinctively reached out and grasped the woman bolting toward him: Scarlett.
“Hey, what’s up?” he asked as she gasped. He quickly released her upper arms as they both steadied themselves.
“I…I just needed to get away for a while,” she said almost breathlessly. Was there a thread of desperation in her voice?
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Venetia and Clarissa,” she said, hugging her arms around herself. “They’re just being so darned nice.”
James frowned, but said, “I can see how that would be irritating.”
She huffed out a breath, jammed her fists in the pocket of her hoodie and marched past him. Descending the stairs, she muttered, “It’s no big deal.”
He followed her. “It sounds like a big deal.”
She whirled to face him. “Not that I’m irritated, but what they’re being nice about. I just did Hailey’s hair, okay? I’ve done chemo patients before, so I just happened to know what to do.”
“Still, Clarissa and Venetia appreciated the way you handled it.”
“It’s no big deal, except maybe to Hailey.”
He reached for Scarlett’s arm to slow her. “Don’t you think it’s a compliment? They admire you. They said so last night at the community center.”
“What?” She appeared even more confused and outraged.
Maybe he shouldn’t have admitted that Venetia had talked about her, but really, he’d thought Scarlett would be flattered. “She just mentioned Hailey’s hair appointment.”
“Oh, I just hate being talked about like that. Like I’m a child or a freak or something.”
“No one thinks you’re a child or a freak.”
“They all think I’m weird.”
“Original—that’s how they saw you. You’re from out of town, you’re colorful and gregarious and kind.” He grinned, hoping she’d take the final remark in good spirits. “Your red hair alone is certain to give you celebrity status.”
“I don’t want to be a celebrity. I just want to do their hair.”
“Things are different in a small town.”
Scarlett took a deep breath, exhaled…and seemed to relax. “You’re right. If I wanted to blend in, I’d have mousey-brown hair and neutral clothes.”
“And no belly button ring,” he added before thinking.
“What?”
“Never mind.” He took her arm again and started steering her toward the parking spaces behind his office. “So you don’t have any clients for a while?”
“No, not until after school.”
“Then come along. We’ll grab some lunch and you can visit a client with me. I have a one o’clock appointment at a ranch near Graham. I think my client would love to meet you.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on. You don’t have anything better to do, and you can fill me in on w
hat’s going on with your car.”
“Oh, okay. But I’m not sure I want to visit with your client. I mean, is that legal?”
James laughed. “Let me worry about legalities.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE HOW GOOD this tastes,” Scarlett said after swallowing another bite of her taquito. The chicken filling was moist and the outside was crispy. After dunking it in some of the best salsa she’d ever tasted, she could just swoon.
“Have you tried the tamales?”
“Not yet.”
“I know we’re in a bit of a hurry, but don’t miss them.”
“Yum, I won’t. After days of cookies, burgers and breakfast food, this tastes so good.”
James had suggested the little Mexican restaurant on the highway to Graham as a quick place to get a bite to eat. The client he was seeing at one o’clock was just a few miles away.
“Are you sure I can’t just sit here and eat while you have your appointment?”
“No. You’d eat too much, get sick and throw up in my SUV on the way back to Brody’s Crossing.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” she said, licking her fingertips. “You sound like my father.”
“That’s a nice thing to tell a guy.”
“Oh, come on. You know what I mean.”
James gave her a narrow-eyed look, but didn’t say anything else “preachy.”
“I’m going to have Claude get that engine from Dallas and repair my car,” she said, after finishing her taquito and reaching for a tamale.
“Okay. I’m sure he’ll do a good job.”
“It’s going to take awhile.”
“Working on older cars usually does. I remember the Pontiac I had in college. That thing was put together with baling wire and bubble gum. Whenever I needed a part for it, the mechanic I used had to find some way to make something fit. I’m no good at car repair, so I had to depend on him.”
“Same here, except my father is the one who dealt with the family cars. He knew all the local mechanics. I was glad to let him take care of everything. Now I wish I knew a little more, especially since I’m really far from home.”
“As I said, Claude is trustworthy. He’s been in business forever.”
Scarlett knew people who had been in business forever who weren’t all that good at doing their jobs, but they were more artistic than functional, so she guessed that didn’t compare with Claude’s particular talent. Why did everyone think that longer was better? What was wrong with trying something new? But she was projecting her own issues again, so she told herself to stop thinking and keep enjoying the delicious food before James made her go on his appointment with his client.
“Tell me more about becoming a judge.”
“I’m not becoming a judge, I’m just sitting in for one. Judge Bell asked me to take his bench while he’s on vacation—a special Christmas trip with his grandchildren.”
“When is this going to happen?” she asked.
“The week of December 17.” James motioned to the waiter for the check.
“Next week?”
“That’s right. I probably won’t have much to do, but the court is going to be open that week. There’s a case that may need some rulings for an upcoming trial in January. They want to make sure nothing holds up the proceedings.”
“I hope Claude can get my car fixed next week,” she said as she dug around in her purse for her wallet.
“When will your new engine get here?”
“Claude has to go fetch it. I think he’s going tomorrow afternoon.” She grabbed a ten and placed it on the table.
“No way,” James said. “This was my treat.”
“I want to pay for my lunch.”
“I invited you. I pay.”
“This isn’t a date.”
“No, but we’re friends. I was going to lunch anyway. I appreciate the company.”
“I want—”
“Put that on your car repair bill,” James insisted. “I think you’ll need it.”
Scarlett slumped in the seat. “You’re right. It’s going to be a doozy.” She wouldn’t have to spend all of her savings to pay for the repairs, but she wouldn’t have much to get started in L.A., either. She’d find a way, though. She always did.
Paying off her student loan for cosmetology school had taken her months. She’d moved back home, eaten few meals out and hadn’t socialized much during that time. Now she was debt free, which was better than some of her friends, who used their credit cards for everything. She’d saved her money so she’d have options when something good came up, which she’d always known would happen.
And now something good was waiting for her in California, if only she could get there.
She must have been deep in thought, because when she looked up, James had already paid the check and placed several bills on the table. “Ready?” he asked.
“If you insist.”
“I do. I won’t be responsible for overdosing on Maria’s chipotle salsa.”
“Okay.” Scarlett groaned in grand theatrical style as she scooted out of the bench seat. James chuckled, and her spirits lifted.
The drive to the small, run-down ranch didn’t take long. Scarlett took it all in—the sagging fences, the overgrown weeds, the siding in need of a coat of paint. Still, she could tell that at one time in the near past, this house and the ranch surrounding it had been well-kept.
James put the SUV in Park and turned off the engine. “Wade and Phyllis Holmes are both my clients. I did their wills last year, but since then, a problem has come up. Wade has some medical issues and the doctors have had trouble getting his meds regulated. If he seems…confused, don’t worry, and don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Okay.”
“Mrs. Holmes—Phyllis—is really nice. I’m sure you’ll like her.”
“Good. But I still don’t see why you wanted me to come out here with you.”
“Just come on. If they don’t mind you listening to us discuss their case, then legally, there’s no problem. Besides, I think they’ll like you.”
Scarlett opened her door and jumped down before James could come around and act all gentlemanly. Okay, it wasn’t an act—he was a gentleman.
They walked together to the door and James knocked. In just a moment, it was opened by a petite, short-haired woman who appeared to be in her mid-sixties. She wore a purple tunic sweater, leggings and gold tennis shoes. “James Brody!” she exclaimed, reaching for him. She pulled him inside the doorway, then turned to Scarlett with a big smile. “And who did you bring to visit?”
“This is Scarlett No-last-name from Atlanta. She’s a hairstylist and a friend of mine. I hope you don’t mind. Her car is being repaired and she wanted to go to lunch with me.”
“I—” she started to say, but Phyllis cut her off.
“Really? Well, isn’t that interesting? Call me Phyllis. Come on in.”
“I didn’t bring her here to do your hair, so don’t pressure her,” James warned with good-natured teasing.
“Oh, darn. Well, I don’t have much hair to begin with. Come on into the sunroom and see Wade. He just had his lunch and he’s watching his soaps.”
Phyllis bustled ahead of Scarlett and James, picking up newspapers, shooing a tiger-striped cat off the sofa in the living room they passed through. “Wade, we’ve got company,” she said in a loud voice. “James Brody and his friend are here. I’m going to get them some tea.”
“No, that’s okay,” Scarlett tried to say, but Phyllis was already gone.
They stepped down into the sunroom, which had been converted from a porch, it seemed. Wade Holmes sat in a recliner, a TV tray next to the wide arm. An older model tube television sat across the room, next to a big, unruly plant. Sunlight streamed in the aluminum-frame windows.
Phyllis bustled back with four glasses of iced tea, which she set on the TV tray. “Here, let’s turn that television off.” She commandeered the remote and switched off the flickering signal.
“But my sho
w!” Wade said, reaching out.
“Sweetie, you know you can catch up in the next few weeks. The plots move so slow, you can figure out who’s done what to who without any problem.”
“Hi, James.”
“Hello, Wade. How are you today?”
“Having a good day, except for my bossy wife.”
Phyllis smiled and swatted him on the shoulder. “You sweet-talkin’ devil, you.” She turned to Scarlett. “He’s cranky when I mess with his soaps.”
“I can see that.” She looked down at Wade, then took a seat in a nearby straight-back chair. “Are you sure it’s okay if I’m here? I can wait outside.”
“No, we don’t have any secrets from James or a friend of his.”
James sat on the sofa near Wade and leaned forward. “I have some options to discuss with you about your property,” he said. “We can take action now to keep your nephew from going any further.”
“Sounds good,” Wade said. “Money hungry little bas—”
“Now, Wade, don’t start cussin’ a blue streak,” Phyllis warned her husband. Again she turned to Scarlett. “Although I have to admit, there’s no love lost between any of us about this. Did James tell you what that little skunk is tryin’ to do?”
“Er, no, not really.”
“He wants this ranch. He thinks he can get it by saying that Wade isn’t capable of running it anymore. Well, he can’t have it! It’s ours.”
“That’s right, and we’re going to see that it stays that way,” James said. “Now, first we need to get the property to a manageable size, as we discussed before. Then, we need to get you some income. I have some ideas for both.”
“Oh, good. We’re ready to fight.”
“That’s what I want to hear,” James said with a smile.
Chapter Seven
“That’s a really nice thing you’re doing for the Holmeses,” Scarlett said as James pulled out onto the highway to drive back to town.
Texan for the Holidays Page 8
