ruined unless she got it all wet soon. The only way to do that was to take it off and put it in water or to keep it on and go back out into the rain. If she didn’t, then the hundreds of rain spots would dry and the material would never be evenly colored again.
She blinked the last of her tears away as she looked over at Hunter. Water was dripping off his hat. His cotton shirt was plastered to his skin. He’d be astonished if she announced she wanted to go back and stand in the rain to save her suit. She didn’t want to make a fuss, but the outfit had been expensive—more than she could afford. And she didn’t want to ruin it. She’d planned to wear it to Fiona’s wedding late this fall, assuming her sister ever made it down the aisle. Fiona had already postponed the wedding twice. Scarlett was beginning to wonder if her sister ever intended to marry her rich daredevil fiancé. But then Scarlett could understand being hesitant. Just looking at Hunter was enough to make her sympathize with her sister. Her emotions went back and forth about him.
* * *
Five minutes later Hunter sat at the table with a white towel wrapped around his shoulders. Someone had given the cat a saucer of milk and she was lapping it up beside him. Linda, the owner, had come out from the kitchen and taken one look at him and Scarlett, declaring they both needed drying off. She’d taken Scarlett into the back room, along with his Stetson. Linda apparently kept some spare clothes there and she planned to put his hat by the oven.
The new waitress only worked a few hours each morning and was gone now, so Linda managed both the kitchen and the waitressing.
“What kind of bird is this?” Joey asked as he held up the paper napkin that Hunter’s grandfather had folded into a shape. His mother had told him about turkeys drowning in the rain and that had started his questions about birds. The boy had seemed to forget the stuffed animal he’d brought with him; the teddy bear just lay on the table.
“An owl,” his grandfather said before Hunter could answer. Then the old man bent his head and began folding another shape.
The boy had taken to the white-haired man more readily than Hunter would have expected.
It probably helped that Mrs. Hargrove was in the café having a soft-boiled egg and toast for breakfast. She had stepped over to the table to meet Joey and suggested more birds to him. She had a way about her that put children at ease. Most likely, Hunter thought with a smile, it was the wrapped lemon drops she kept in her apron pocket. She wasn’t above slipping a boy one of them when she met him, just as her way of saying she was his friend.
Hunter could see her sitting at a nearby table and finishing up her tea. She glanced over at him.
“Thanks.” Hunter smiled at her. “I owe you one.”
She nodded and the gray curls on her head bounced as she did so. She wore a green-checked housedress that was almost completely covered by a white bibbed apron. She was noted for her baking-powder biscuits and chokecherry jelly, both of which she brought faithfully to church dinners.
The truth was that he owed her a lot. What wasn’t so widely known was that she’d been his salvation as a boy. When he and his brothers had settled in with their grandfather, Hunter had done as much as he could to care for them all. He hadn’t known who to turn to for instruction, though, and the older woman had volunteered. She’d been the closest thing to a mother that he and his brothers’d had all those years. She’d taught Hunter how to make pancakes and how to bleach grass stains out of their white socks. He’d learned what to do for a fever and how to use that small bottle of iodine she’d given him.
He looked at the older woman fondly for a moment. Her wrinkled face lit up with a smile.
“How’s Doris June doing?” he asked. That was her daughter. She’d worked in Alaska for a time before coming home to marry a local rancher. Mrs. Hargrove doted
She blinked the last of her tears away as she looked over at Hunter. Water was dripping off his hat. His cotton shirt was plastered to his skin. He’d be astonished if she announced she wanted to go back and stand in the rain to save her suit. She didn’t want to make a fuss, but the outfit had been expensive—more than she could afford. And she didn’t want to ruin it. She’d planned to wear it to Fiona’s wedding late this fall, assuming her sister ever made it down the aisle. Fiona had already postponed the wedding twice. Scarlett was beginning to wonder if her sister ever intended to marry her rich daredevil fiancé. But then Scarlett could understand being hesitant. Just looking at Hunter was enough to make her sympathize with her sister. Her emotions went back and forth about him.
* * *
Five minutes later Hunter sat at the table with a white towel wrapped around his shoulders. Someone had given the cat a saucer of milk and she was lapping it up beside him. Linda, the owner, had come out from the kitchen and taken one look at him and Scarlett, declaring they both needed drying off. She’d taken Scarlett into the back room, along with his Stetson. Linda apparently kept some spare clothes there and she planned to put his hat by the oven.
The new waitress only worked a few hours each morning and was gone now, so Linda managed both the kitchen and the waitressing.
“What kind of bird is this?” Joey asked as he held up the paper napkin that Hunter’s grandfather had folded into a shape. His mother had told him about turkeys drowning in the rain and that had started his questions about birds. The boy had seemed to forget the stuffed animal he’d brought with him; the teddy bear just lay on the table.
“An owl,” his grandfather said before Hunter could answer. Then the old man bent his head and began folding another shape.
The boy had taken to the white-haired man more readily than Hunter would have expected.
It probably helped that Mrs. Hargrove was in the café having a soft-boiled egg and toast for breakfast. She had stepped over to the table to meet Joey and suggested more birds to him. She had a way about her that put children at ease. Most likely, Hunter thought with a smile, it was the wrapped lemon drops she kept in her apron pocket. She wasn’t above slipping a boy one of them when she met him, just as her way of saying she was his friend.
Hunter could see her sitting at a nearby table and finishing up her tea. She glanced over at him.
“Thanks.” Hunter smiled at her. “I owe you one.”
She nodded and the gray curls on her head bounced as she did so. She wore a green-checked housedress that was almost completely covered by a white bibbed apron. She was noted for her baking-powder biscuits and chokecherry jelly, both of which she brought faithfully to church dinners.
The truth was that he owed her a lot. What wasn’t so widely known was that she’d been his salvation as a boy. When he and his brothers had settled in with their grandfather, Hunter had done as much as he could to care for them all. He hadn’t known who to turn to for instruction, though, and the older woman had volunteered. She’d been the closest thing to a mother that he and his brothers’d had all those years. She’d taught Hunter how to make pancakes and how to bleach grass stains out of their white socks. He’d learned what to do for a fever and how to use that small bottle of iodine she’d given him.
He looked at the older woman fondly for a moment. Her wrinkled face lit up with a smile.
“How’s Doris June doing?” he asked. That was her daughter. She’d worked in Alaska for a time before coming home to marry a local rancher. Mrs. Hargrove doted
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