pushed off the stool and smiled at him. “Good. Now, I have to make sure Bobby is getting ready for church. See you around, Zack. Tom.”
Tom nodded. “Have a good day, ma’am. Ah, tell Bobby I have a job for him when he comes home.”
She smiled. “I will. Thanks, Tom, for putting up with him.”
He shrugged and shuffled his feet. “Not a problem. He’s a good help around the barn.”
As she passed Zack and headed toward the door, he glued his gaze to the swish of her long brown hair and the sway of her behind until she pushed out the swinging door.
“Cartwright, if you’re done lusting after my daughter, why don’t you tell us exactly how you plan to catch these cattle thieves.”
Tom Miller’s chuckle punctuated Bob Quinn’s amused words.
Damn, he needed a woman.
But that woman couldn’t be Tracy, no matter how much he wanted her.
Chapter 4
Tracy smiled at Henrietta Parker as she shuffled across the wood floor toward the salon sink, her cane making a jaunty tap-tap with each step. Although she was now stoop-shouldered and aged ninety-one, Henrietta was still famous around town for being a pilot during World War II. And up until six years ago, she’d flown her crop duster. Only her eldest son’s taking the engine out of the old thing grounded her.
Henrietta pointed her cane at Tracy as she sat in the chair in front of the sink. “Haven’t I told you a thousand times to get rid of those granny clothes?”
As Tracy took the old woman’s cane and leaned it against the wall, she looked down at her favorite peasant blouse and long denim skirt. “I happen to like this outfit, Grandma.”
Henrietta narrowed her sharp green eyes on her and shook her head. “Yeah, well, it makes you look like you’re wearing a gunnysack. I don’t get you, Tracy Caroline. There are women out there who starve themselves half to death to look like you. And make big money for their efforts.” She pointed a knobby finger at her. “Just the other night I was watching a television show about girls who want to be models and what they have to do to stay skinny.” She looked Tracy up and down and frowned again. “How the hell do you expect to catch a husband dressed like that?”
Tracy sighed and helped the woman lean back into the sink. “I’m not looking for a husband. I had one, remember?”
With a snort, Henrietta settled her head back. “And you did the right thing by dumping him. Now, you need a new one. That great-grandson of mine needs a steady hand. Jake is too much like his daddy. God rest Allan’s soul, but he was the poorest excuse for a father put on God’s green Earth.”
Tracy sprayed the thin white hair with warm water. “Now, Grandma.”
She turned in her seat and shook a finger at Tracy again. “Don’t you ‘now, Grandma’ me. It’s the gospel truth. If my son had been any kind of man, he wouldn’t’ve beat his boys, and they may have turned out half-way decent.”
Tracy grabbed a towel as water dripped from the woman’s hair onto her embroidered Western shirt. She wasn’t about to get into an argument about Allan Parker’s parenting skills or those of his son, Jake. She grabbed a drape and put it around her ex-grandmother-in-law. “Jake isn’t like Allan, and you know it.”
Henrietta harrumphed and leaned back against the lip of the sink. “Maybe not, but it still burns my ass that I’ve reached this age, and instead of my grandsons taking care of me, I’m still taking care of them.”
Tracy lathered Henrietta’s hair and worked her fingers through the thin strands to massage four days worth of hairspray off the woman’s scalp. Henrietta came in to the shop twice a week, Monday and Thursday for a wash and set and trusted Aqua Net and a sleeping cap to keep it looking good between those days. “Now, what did Brent do?”
“Well, let me tell you.” She huffed and folded her hands over the drape. “He’s been laid-off since the tire factory packed up and
Tom nodded. “Have a good day, ma’am. Ah, tell Bobby I have a job for him when he comes home.”
She smiled. “I will. Thanks, Tom, for putting up with him.”
He shrugged and shuffled his feet. “Not a problem. He’s a good help around the barn.”
As she passed Zack and headed toward the door, he glued his gaze to the swish of her long brown hair and the sway of her behind until she pushed out the swinging door.
“Cartwright, if you’re done lusting after my daughter, why don’t you tell us exactly how you plan to catch these cattle thieves.”
Tom Miller’s chuckle punctuated Bob Quinn’s amused words.
Damn, he needed a woman.
But that woman couldn’t be Tracy, no matter how much he wanted her.
Chapter 4
Tracy smiled at Henrietta Parker as she shuffled across the wood floor toward the salon sink, her cane making a jaunty tap-tap with each step. Although she was now stoop-shouldered and aged ninety-one, Henrietta was still famous around town for being a pilot during World War II. And up until six years ago, she’d flown her crop duster. Only her eldest son’s taking the engine out of the old thing grounded her.
Henrietta pointed her cane at Tracy as she sat in the chair in front of the sink. “Haven’t I told you a thousand times to get rid of those granny clothes?”
As Tracy took the old woman’s cane and leaned it against the wall, she looked down at her favorite peasant blouse and long denim skirt. “I happen to like this outfit, Grandma.”
Henrietta narrowed her sharp green eyes on her and shook her head. “Yeah, well, it makes you look like you’re wearing a gunnysack. I don’t get you, Tracy Caroline. There are women out there who starve themselves half to death to look like you. And make big money for their efforts.” She pointed a knobby finger at her. “Just the other night I was watching a television show about girls who want to be models and what they have to do to stay skinny.” She looked Tracy up and down and frowned again. “How the hell do you expect to catch a husband dressed like that?”
Tracy sighed and helped the woman lean back into the sink. “I’m not looking for a husband. I had one, remember?”
With a snort, Henrietta settled her head back. “And you did the right thing by dumping him. Now, you need a new one. That great-grandson of mine needs a steady hand. Jake is too much like his daddy. God rest Allan’s soul, but he was the poorest excuse for a father put on God’s green Earth.”
Tracy sprayed the thin white hair with warm water. “Now, Grandma.”
She turned in her seat and shook a finger at Tracy again. “Don’t you ‘now, Grandma’ me. It’s the gospel truth. If my son had been any kind of man, he wouldn’t’ve beat his boys, and they may have turned out half-way decent.”
Tracy grabbed a towel as water dripped from the woman’s hair onto her embroidered Western shirt. She wasn’t about to get into an argument about Allan Parker’s parenting skills or those of his son, Jake. She grabbed a drape and put it around her ex-grandmother-in-law. “Jake isn’t like Allan, and you know it.”
Henrietta harrumphed and leaned back against the lip of the sink. “Maybe not, but it still burns my ass that I’ve reached this age, and instead of my grandsons taking care of me, I’m still taking care of them.”
Tracy lathered Henrietta’s hair and worked her fingers through the thin strands to massage four days worth of hairspray off the woman’s scalp. Henrietta came in to the shop twice a week, Monday and Thursday for a wash and set and trusted Aqua Net and a sleeping cap to keep it looking good between those days. “Now, what did Brent do?”
“Well, let me tell you.” She huffed and folded her hands over the drape. “He’s been laid-off since the tire factory packed up and
Similar Books
