“No, really, I’m fine. Just go to lunch. I’ll see you in a little while.”
He had a decision to make: how to confront a woman who’d walked out on him. He’d never done that before, had never been in this situation. Before Scarlett, he couldn’t have imagined wanting to talk to a woman who’d run away from him.
Ignoring Scarlett wasn’t an option, he thought as he picked up the phone.
“ER, NO, SCARLETT CAN’T come to the phone right now,” Venetia said as Scarlett stood behind her client, frantically shaking her head. She assumed her eyes appeared wild and wide.
“Sure, I’ll tell her you called. Have a nice day.” Venetia hung up and frowned at her. “Now, why wouldn’t you want to talk to him?”
“I’m busy,” she said, looking down at the salt-and-pepper curls of her ten o’clock perm, cut and style.
“Hmm. Too busy for J—”
“Yes! I’ll call him back.”
Venetia shook her head, but returned to her station.
Scarlett knew she should act normally, as if she hadn’t spent the night with James. But darn it, she wasn’t that good an actress. She was, however, good at drama. And she was basically an honest person.
She would call James back before she left town. Clarissa was off working on that right now, bless her heart. She’d gone to the café for lunch, and promised she’d keep her ears open in case she heard any juicy rumors.
Scarlett finished styling and spraying her client, accepted a thank-you and a tip, and rushed to the back of the salon. Taking a deep breath, she wet a washcloth and pressed it to her toasty face.
You’re so warm, she remembered telling James just hours ago as she’d snuggled against his hot, aroused body. The memory made her cheeks burn and her eyes water. Maybe she was coming down with something other than acute infatuation.
Before she could wallow in her emotions, the front door opened and she heard Clarissa’s cheerful voice greet Venetia. Scarlett folded the washcloth, took a calming breath and went out to greet her boss. Her friend.
“How are you, hon?” Clarissa asked, removing her coat and taking Scarlett’s hands.
“I’m okay. Well, not okay, but I’m getting by. Did you learn anything?”
“The good news is that there’s no gossip going around, so whatever you were worried about isn’t a problem. The bad news is there’s a bus leaving tonight, but not around here. Weatherford. That’s the closest city, but it’s over an hour’s drive in the daylight.”
“Oh.” That threw a wrench into her plans for a clean escape. “Where’s Weatherford, exactly?”
“You go through Graham, down to Mineral Wells and then on to Weatherford. It’s about thirty miles west of Fort Worth, right off Interstate 20.”
“But how would I get there?”
Clarissa took a big breath and perched on the edge of the couch. “Well, I suppose I could drive you,” she offered, although Scarlett figured it was a reluctant proposal.
She couldn’t ask James, Scarlett knew. Not after she’d realized she was a hair width away from falling in love with him. Her cheeks felt hot again and she began to pace.
“There’s one other option,” Clarissa said. “Bobbi Jean Maxwell is selling her van. Now, it’s not new, but she’s kept it up real nice.” Clarissa frowned. “Except for that unfortunate incident when Raven got accused of being a cattle rustler and that calf had a little accident in the back. But, really, that’s minor, and they cleaned it up.”
Scarlett felt as if she should shake her head to clear the image of cattle rustling and calf accidents. “What kind of van, did you say?”
“It’s a 1987 model, teal-blue, with a bed that folds out from the seating area in the back. There are even little wood cabinets and a built-in cooler, and this nice desert scene painted on the side.”
“Uh, sounds nice.” For the eighties, maybe. “But I doubt it gets very good gas mileage, and besides, I can’t afford to buy anything.”
“Well, I told her I’d mention it to you.”
“Thanks, Clarissa.” Scarlett sagged against the arm of the couch. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“Hon, it’s probably none of my business, but can you tell me why you feel like you have to leave right now? Today? I thought your stay here was going well.”
“I…I just realized some things.”
“Did any of us do something to upset you?”
“No! Not at all. Everyone has been…great.” That was true. People in Brody’s Crossing had been very friendly this week. Even the saloon girl costume hadn’t put them off.
“Then it must be James.”
“What?” Scarlett stepped back from the couch, feeling sudden panic again. “Why did you say that?”
“If everything else is fine, it must be a man. And hon, from what I’ve seen between you and James, he’s the man.”
“He didn’t do anything.”
Clarissa looked at her, her perfectly penciled eyebrows raised. “It takes two to tango. I haven’t been widowed so long that I’ve forgotten that.”
“What if you really liked to dance with someone and you knew you shouldn’t?” Scarlett asked carefully.
Clarissa didn’t answer for a moment, and about the time she opened her mouth, Venetia entered the back and announced, “Clarissa, your one o’clock is here.”
She pushed herself up from the sofa. “Gotta go, hon. I’ll think about that question. In the meantime, why don’t you think about talking to you-know-who about whether you should catch that bus.”
Clarissa walked out to her station. Venetia frowned at Scarlett. “What bus?”
“I thought…maybe I shouldn’t wait for my car. Maybe it won’t be fixed. Maybe I should just leave.”
Venetia’s frown turned more intense. “Why in the world would you leave? It’s Christmastime, and things are going so well.”
Venetia shook her head and left as Scarlett plopped down on the couch. She couldn’t work up any enthusiasm to move. Should she pack up her bags and ask Clarissa to drive her to Weatherford? When should she talk to James?
And if he asked her to stay, then what? Avoid James and protect her heart? Accept the attraction and sneak around? Tango in the dark?
She didn’t have answers because she’d never been in this situation before.
Clarissa walked back a minute later. “Look, I know I shouldn’t interfere, but I don’t think you should rush off. At least, not tonight. Think about your options for a while. In the meantime, come with us to the chili supper at the VFW Post. It will get your mind off you-know-who.”
“I don’t think I’d be good company.”
“You’ll be fine, and if you don’t come, you’ll be sitting here all alone. Or maybe you’ll be with James,” Clarissa said, raising her penciled brows once more. “Trying to convince him that the two of you aren’t good together.”
Scarlett groaned and buried her face in her hands. “That’s so not fair.”
“Fair or not, it’s the truth.”
“I don’t even like chili.”
“You’ll like this chili,” Clarissa said, taking her arm and tugging her to her feet. “It’s real Texas chili, not that imitation stuff with the beans or, Lord forbid, spaghetti. Why, that’s nearly a sacrilege!”
Scarlett couldn’t help but smile despite her dour mood. “Where is the VFW Post?”
“It’s on the highway that goes to Olney. The chili supper is a tradition. The vets and their families are just about the best people around.”
“I’ve never been to a VFW before.”
“Then it’s high time you went,” Clarissa said. “We’ll close the shop at five o’clock sharp, run by the grocery and head on out.”
Scarlett shrugged. “I’m obviously at your mercy.”
Chapter Nine
James hadn’t heard from Scarlett, although he’d called several times. He wasn’t sure if he should be alarmed or angry. She had no reason to steer clear of him, just as she’d had no reaso
n to walk out on him this morning. They’d had a great time. Neither one of them had put pressure on the other.
So, maybe she was busy. He had a late meeting, but as soon as his clients left, he grabbed his jacket and walked down to the salon.
The multicolored lights surrounding Clarissa’s big picture window blinked in the dusky twilight, but the salon appeared dark inside. James glanced at his watch. Not even a quarter after five. He knocked on the door, thinking Scarlett might be in the back, but she didn’t answer.
Now he was getting concerned. He walked around the building, noting there were no cars in the parking lot. When he stepped onto the little porch and knocked on the back door, she didn’t answer.
She wasn’t here. She hadn’t called him. What was going on?
On a hunch, he walked across the street, past the Burger Barn and onto the asphalt parking area of McCaskie’s garage. Scarlett’s white Mercedes was parked off to the side, the hood open. The car looked as if it had been gutted, the interior dark and smoky-black. Very sad.
Well, one thing was certain; she hadn’t driven herself out of town. So where was she?
WHEN JAMES ENTERED the Crawford-Peet VFW Post just out of town, his senses were assaulted by the smells of chili, beer and old cigarette smoke. His eyes took in the huge Christmas tree with its big red, white and blue lights, yellow ribbons tied in big bows and many ornaments, and he heard George Strait singing Christmas carols over the speaker system.
The place was packed for the annual chili dinner. Where was Scarlett? Hopefully with Clarissa, Venetia and the “gang,” and not with a rangy cowboy or a buff vet, who might sweep her off her feet.
He couldn’t believe he felt jealous of an imaginary rival. There was no evidence Scarlett was looking for anyone else to spend time with.
Of course, he’d felt the same when she’d talked about Diego, until he’d figured out that ol’ Diego probably wasn’t interested in Scarlett that way.
James made his way through the crowd, greeting a half-dozen neighbors and clients he knew. Every stool at the bar was taken, but not by Scarlett. He headed for the buffet table. There, at the end, stood Clarissa and Ida Bell, chatting away. They’d know where Scarlett was.
He headed for the ladies. “Sorry to interrupt, but is Scarlett with you?”
“Hello, James. Yes, she is. She’s around here somewhere,” Clarissa said, standing on her tiptoes.
He looked around again, then frowned.
“She’s fine, in case you’re worried.” Clarissa leaned close and whispered, “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but she was pretty upset.”
“I honestly don’t know why.”
The woman leaned back a little and shook her head. “Son, men never do.”
“There she is,” Ida said, waving toward the buffet table.
He looked across the room and saw Scarlett, a cup of chili in her hand, taking to some people he didn’t know. She looked…fine. Smiling, gesturing. Not worried, injured, sick or anything. Instead of being relieved, he felt…angry. Narrowing his eyes, he headed toward her.
“We need to talk,” he said. The other people scurried off.
“Okay,” she said, holding up the cup of chili. “This is surprisingly good.”
“Not about the chili.”
“Oh.”
He looked around the crowded post. “How about outside?”
“I’m not sure. I need to check with my chaperone to see if that’s okay.”
“Very clever. I’ve already talked to Clarissa. She knows I’m here,” he said, taking Scarlett’s arm and steering her toward the front door. Fortunately, she decided to cooperate. Unlike this morning, he reminded himself.
“Where are we going?”
“My car. It’s the only place to sit out of the wind.”
“I’m not sure I want to be in the car with you.”
“Tough. You should have thought about that when you ran out this morning.”
“Darn it, James, I—”
She started to walk in the wrong direction, so he pulled her toward his SUV. “I’m not used to women running away from me.”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had such a fragile ego.”
“I don’t have a fragile ego. I do, however, have a sense of what’s right and wrong.”
“Oh, and I don’t?”
He unlocked the doors, then opened the passenger side. “I want to understand what happened. Why.”
Scarlett sighed. “Can’t we just say we each had a good time, and move on?”
He came around to his side of the SUV, opened the door and sat down. In the stillness of the parked car, he turned to her and said, “Apparently not. Believe me, I’m kind of surprised, too.”
He must have shocked her, because she had no snappy comeback. Instead, she looked down at her hands, still holding the cup of chili. He decided not to say anything else, let her gather her thoughts.
Finally, she said, “I guess I panicked.”
“You guess?”
“Okay, I did.” She placed the cup on the dash and turned to him. “I didn’t want anyone to see you with me.”
“Why? I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“But you were concerned before about what people saw us together. You’re going to serve as a judge, for goodness sake. I didn’t want to hurt your reputation.”
“Scarlett, you’re not really a saloon girl. You’re not something negative I need to hide.”
She shrugged. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t say it was totally rational, but those are my actual reasons.”
“You should think this through again. I’m not ashamed of you.”
She sighed. “I’ll think about it.”
“I was angry when I thought about you running out on me this morning. Then I got worried when you didn’t talk to me. I went to the salon after my last appointment, but it was closed up. I even went to the garage, but I couldn’t find you.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I had no idea you were looking for me that hard.”
“Yeah, well, I was.” And he wasn’t real happy about it, either. Scarlett was not an easy woman to…what? Be involved with? But how long could he be involved with her when she was leaving as soon as possible?
“I thought about leaving. Now.”
“What?”
“I’m…I’m having second thoughts about the new engine. About fixing the Benz.” She looked out the side window. “Maybe it’s not worth the money. And it’s taking forever.” She took a deep breath and hugged her arms tighter around herself. “I’m thinking of leaving the car here, maybe selling it or giving it to Claude in exchange for the cost of the engine, and getting out to L.A. another way.”
“How?”
“A bus, maybe,” she said in a small voice, not meeting James’s eyes as he watched her. “Clarissa looked into schedules for me. I’d have to get to Weatherford. She talked me out of leaving tonight.”
He felt stunned. Blindsided. “Tonight?”
Scarlett looked up at him and frowned. “I need to get to my new job.”
“Right now?”
“Not this week, but I have to be in L.A. on January 2, when the salon reopens after the holidays. I got to thinking that maybe I don’t need my car. If I went to L.A. early, I could find a place close to the salon, or on a bus route. I’d actually save money, because I wouldn’t have to pay for parking or insurance or gas.”
“You told me how you feel about that car. I can’t believe you’d go off and leave it on a whim. Which makes me think whatever happened this morning wasn’t a whim, it was important, and I’d like to understand.”
“I…Well, I’m just not good at handling that panicky feeling.”
“Who is? I had no idea I made you panic. I didn’t realize how panicked I’d feel when I couldn’t find you this afternoon. I’m sorry if I made you run away.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s just…sometimes I feel as if…well, it is all too much.”
/> “And you want to run as fast as you can.”
“Get myself out of the situation,” she corrected.
“That’s equivocation.”
“You’re using those big lawyer words again.”
He frowned at her. “Don’t think I’m going to let you change the subject by putting yourself down.”
“How can pointing out that you’re a lawyer put me down?”
“When you make a disparaging remark about yourself.”
“I didn’t.”
“You implied that my vocabulary is better than yours, because I have a degree you don’t have.”
“Hey, I have a degree. From cosmetology school.”
He rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat. “I can’t have a conversation with you if you won’t be honest.”
She fell silent for a moment, then said, “I never lied to you.”
“Maybe not, but you keep things from me.”
“Like what?”
“Like what you’re really thinking. How you really feel.”
“Wait. Am I having a conversation with a guy or with my best girlfriend?”
“Very funny, Scarlett. I’m trying to understand you.”
“Well, don’t. I won’t be here long enough for you to figure out all my problems.”
“Oh, Scarlett. What am I going to do with you?”
She sighed. “You could get me a large latte with extra foam.”
“And that will make you happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
He shook his head and sighed. “I’m not sure about a latte, but I might be able to get you a cappuccino.”
“That’ll do.”
He started the engine. “Do you need anything from inside?”
“No, everything is in my pockets.”
He pulled out onto the highway, then headed southeast.
“Where are we going?” Scarlett asked. “I hadn’t noticed anything like a Starbucks.”
“There’s a place on Highway 114. It’s not exactly a coffee shop, but it’ll do.”
SCARLETT SETTLED BACK into the seat of James’s SUV in the parking lot of the Valero gas station and convenience store. The cappuccino smelled great and was plenty hot.
Texan for the Holidays Page 11
