The Curl Up and Dye (8 page)

Rachel was still smarting from the slap-down LilyAnn had given her and popped off before she thought.

“If I was a man friend of hers, I think I’d be huntin’ me a new friend.”

“What do you mean?” Harold asked.

Rachel discarded. “I’ll take two,” she said, and when Harold dealt her two more cards from the deck, she swept them up into her hands. “That’s better,” she said.

Harold liked LilyAnn. She’d sold him makeup at Phillips’ Pharmacy for years without blinking an eye, even when she knew it wasn’t Willa Dean’s brand, and he knew she’d never said a word about it, so he wasn’t letting the comment go.

“What did you mean about LilyAnn’s men friends?”

Rachel shrugged. “Well, think about it. Randy Joe liked her and he died. Her daddy adored her and he died. She and old man Gerty have been hanging out at that cemetery visiting their loved ones for years, and now he’s dead, too.”

Harold laid down his cards and gave Willa Dean a look.

“I think it’s time we get on home.”

Rachel blinked. “What? We haven’t had any of my bourbon cheesecake yet.”

“It’s like this, Rachel. I think the world of LilyAnn Bronte. She’s one of the sweetest people in Blessings. She’s had some hard luck, but not a damn bit of it is her fault. Randy Joe died in a war, not because he loved her. Her daddy died because he smoked and had a heart attack. And Mr. Gerty was in his nineties, for God’s sake. I venture to say she didn’t have a thing to do with his heart givin’ out. I reckon he died from old age and grief.”

Rachel blinked again. “Well, my goodness. I didn’t mean anything by what I said.”

Harold stood up. “Willa Dean, are you coming?”

She looked at Rachel and shrugged. “It is getting late and all. Thanks so much for everything. Next time it’s at our house, okay?”

Rachel was stunned. She’d never had a man call her down like that. Ever.

“Yeah, sure… No hard feelings, okay, Harold?”

Harold gave her a long look and then shrugged. “No hard feelings, and I hope I don’t hear any more of that crap about LilyAnn bantered about town.”

“If you do, it didn’t come from me,” Rachel said sharply.

Bud was embarrassed, but that was nothing new. Rachel could be a bitch. He’d been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue a few times himself and was secretly tickled that old Harold had called her on it. He helped her clean up and then they went to bed without commenting about the situation, and the moment was soon forgotten.

Later on, they had two couples arrive at the bed and breakfast to spend the night. Bud registered them and got them settled into their rooms, while Rachel began planning the meal.

The next morning she was up before daylight making breakfast. She’d been at it for almost two hours and was frying up the last of the bacon when Bud finally walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Rachel, how much longer before we set up the sideboard?”

Despite the cold day outside, her kitchen was hot and steamy. She glanced over at the tea cart she’d been loading and then back at the stove.

“About three minutes and you can take it out. Are they waiting? Please tell me they’re not waiting.”

“No, but I can hear them moving around upstairs and they did say they were checking out early.”

Rachel reached for the tongs to take the remaining bacon strips out of the pan, and as she did, the grease popped out onto a hot burner, which caused a quick flare-up. Those flames flared back into the hot grease in her pan, and before she knew it, grease was popping and the flames were over her head.

She screamed and slammed a lid onto the pan. It smothered the fire, but not before she’d gotten a dose of the flames.

Bud was at her side in a flash, but it was after the fact. The fire was out. The bacon was burned, and Rachel’s eyebrows and bangs looked like they’d melted.

“Oh honey, are you all right?” Bud asked.

Rachel was already wrapping a handful of ice cubes in a towel to put on the burn splatters on her arms.

“I guess. Thank goodness my clothes didn’t catch fire.” She glanced at the bacon she’d already cooked. “There’s no time to cook more. What’s there will have to work.”

“That’s plenty,” Bud said. “You sit down and ice the burns. I’ll put out the food and hold court. You don’t need to come out unless you want to.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

She could hear the couples gathering out in the dining room and sighed with weary satisfaction as they began tasting and exclaiming over the food she’d sent out.

The ice helped allay the pain of the small rising blisters on her arms, and when they felt better, she got up to go wash her face. That’s when she saw her hair.

“Oh, for the freaking love of God! My eyebrows! My hair! Is Bud blind? I’m ruined!”

In a panic, she returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up the mess. As soon as the guests checked out, she was going to The Curl Up and Dye. Bud could clean up the rooms. She had a hair emergency.

***

Vesta and Vera were working side by side doing haircuts, while Mabel Jean was cleaning up her station from her last customer.

Ruby was on the phone at the front counter when Rachel walked in. She glanced up and smiled, motioning that she would be off in a few seconds, and then noticed the condition of Rachel’s face and hair.

“Hey, Moira, I have to go. I’ll see you at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow.”

She headed for Rachel with her hands outstretched.

“What on earth happened?”

“Oh, Sister, I had a little fire in the kitchen this morning,” Rachel said.

“Are you in pain?”

Rachel was struggling not to cry. “Some. It feels like I’ve been stung by a swarm of bees. What can you do with my face and brows?”

“Come sit,” Ruby said, leading her to a shampoo chair. She ran her fingers through Rachel’s hair, then felt her eyebrows. “I think we can fix this so it doesn’t look so shocking. Although the surface is singed, you still have brows. Do you trust me to do what I can?”

Blinking back tears, Rachel nodded, and with that, Ruby got down to work.

Rachel heard the chatter going on in the shop but was beyond caring about the gossip. She was too worried about becoming presentable again.

The bell over the door continued to jingle as people came in and went out. It was no big deal until Rachel realized one voice she was hearing belonged to LilyAnn. She was still smarting from the put-down the woman had given her at the hospital but didn’t have a leg of indignation to stand on. The truth was she did have an eye on Mike Dalton. But to be fair, she had an eye out for any eligible male, and some who were not.

***

Vera was manning the counter when LilyAnn walked in. They all knew about her finding Mr. Gerty’s body but figured the less they mentioned it, the happier she would be.

“Hi there, sugar. What can I do for you?”

“I would like to change my hair appointment time next week.”

“Okay, let’s see what we can do. What day?” Vera asked.

“Mama and Eddie are coming in Wednesday for Thanksgiving, so if Ruby has an opening at noon on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, it would be helpful. They’ll be leaving sometime Friday, and I don’t want to miss my visit because I’m getting my hair done.”

“Hang on, let me check,” Vera said. She scanned Ruby’s appointment book, then looked up. “She can do you at 12:30 on Tuesday. How would that work?”

“It will be fine,” LilyAnn said. “I’ll just take my lunch hour thirty minutes later. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, sugar. We’ll still see you this Friday, right?”

Lily nodded.

“Okay then. So, you take care, okay?”

Lily nodded and left, grateful they hadn’t mentioned Mr. Gerty. Work was a madhouse today. Everyone who came in wanted to talk about it.

But she wasn’t the only one relieved to have escaped confrontation. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Lily leave.

“Let’s move over to my styling chair and see what we can do,” Ruby said, as she wrapped a clean towel around Rachel’s head.

Rachel did so with alacrity, hoping Ruby could perform, at the least, a small miracle. Between her recent accident and now this, she was wondering if God was trying to tell her to change her ways. She certainly hoped not. She liked her ways just fine the way they were.

She clenched her jaw as Ruby picked up her scissors and spun the chair around so Rachel could no longer see what was happening. At that point, like the wreck and the fire, it was out of her hands.

***

T. J. Lachlan had finally finished painting the interior of the house and was moving on to exterior repairs. He’d been up in the attic often enough to know there was a leak on the roof, and he had a general idea of where it was. He’d climbed up on the roof an hour earlier, found the leak, and was in the process of patching it when he heard a noise down below. He looked over his shoulder just as the top rungs of the ladder began sliding sideways and then disappeared from sight. He heard a loud thud as the ladder hit the ground.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, and eased back to the edge of the roof just in time to see a large bull making an exit up the drive.

He didn’t know where the bull had come from, but the puzzle was moot. The bigger question was: how was he going to get down? The house was two-story. The roof was steep. There was a chimney, but he was no Santa-fucking-Claus. He sat down and then took out his cell phone.

This was embarrassing as hell, but he was never going to get down without help. He could call 911, but if he did, everyone in town would know. It was hard to maintain a macho attitude when you were the joke of the week. The only local phone number he had on speed dial was The Curl Up and Dye. Even if he called them, he was wondering how they could help.

A cold gust of wind blew up the back of his jacket, which reminded him that spending the night on the roof was out of the question.

“The Curl Up and Dye, it is,” T. J. muttered, and took out his phone.

***

Ruby turned off the blow-dryer, then picked up a teasing comb and a can of hair spray, eyeing what she’d just done for Rachel’s hair.

“Just a few more minutes and we’ll be done,” Ruby said.

“Is it bad?” Rachel asked.

“No!” Ruby said. “Not at all! You’ll see.”

She worked quickly, giving Rachel’s hair a liberal dose of hair spray before she turned the chair around.

“So what do you think?” Ruby asked.

Rachel couldn’t believe it. She looked normal. A little different, but normal.

“How did you do that?” she asked, feathering the bangs across her forehead.

“You have more bangs than you did before. See, I pulled some more of your hair forward from the crown to cover what burned off. As for your eyebrows, I clipped the singed part off and reshaped them a little. It will all grow back, so don’t think you have to live with this look forever.”

Rachel was beaming. “You are a freaking genius,” she cried.

“I like to think so,” Ruby said as they went to the counter to pay.

The phone began to ring as Rachel was writing out a check.

“Hang on a second, Rachel, okay?”

Rachel nodded.

Ruby smiled her thanks as she answered the phone. “The Curl Up and Dye. This is Ruby.”

“Uh… Hey, Ruby, this is T. J. Lachlan. Do you remember me?”

“Sure, I remember you, T. J. What’s up? Do you want to make an appointment?”

“Not exactly. I have a problem, and your phone number is the only local number I had on speed dial.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Ruby asked.

T. J. sighed. “I’m embarrassed to say that I need help. I am stranded on the roof of my house.”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Stranded on the roof of your house? How did that happen?”

“I was patching a leak when someone’s stupid bull got into my yard and knocked the ladder over. The bull’s gone and I’m stuck. Do you know anyone in the area who could come out here?”

“I sure do. We’ll find someone to get you right down. Hang on while I get the phone book to look up some names, okay?”

Rachel put a hand on Ruby’s arm as she slid her check across the counter.

“What happened to T. J.?” she whispered.

Ruby was surprised Rachel knew him. “He’s stranded on the roof of his house. Someone’s bull got in his yard and knocked down the ladder. He needs someone to put it back up. He lives out at the old Bissell place.”

“I can go,” Rachel said.

Ruby arched an eyebrow. Everyone knew Rachel’s propensity for chasing men.

“Well…”

“No, you don’t understand,” Rachel said. “The day I had the wreck he stopped and drove me to the ER. This is just my chance to return a favor.”

“Oh! Well, my goodness, I didn’t know that, but it definitely makes sense. If you’re sure, I’ll tell him you’re on the way.”

“I’m sure,” Rachel said. “And thanks again for making me presentable.”

Ruby smiled. “My pleasure,” she said. “You take care now.”

Rachel waved as she left, but she was already thinking about Lachlan and the possibilities that could ensue.

Rachel’s pulse was racing as she drove out of town toward the Bissell house. She glanced in the rearview mirror a couple of times to reassure herself she was presentable enough for this little foray, and then shivered. It had been a while, four long years to be exact, since she’d had something besides Bud’s fumbling excuse for romance. If he hadn’t been so well-to-do, she would never have settled for the sixty seconds of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sex.

She was less than a quarter of a mile from her destination when her cell phone rang. When she saw it was from Bud, she rolled her eyes. Since she’d wrecked her car, she was driving his, which meant he was stuck at home. So should she answer and tell him the truth about what she was doing, or let it go to voice mail? Even if she let it go, her destination was no secret because the ladies at The Curl Up and Dye knew where she was going, and if they knew, then so would everyone else, which made the decision for her. She reached for her phone.

“Hello, Bud. What’s going on?”

“I was just checking on you, honey. Are you still in much pain? Was Ruby able to fix your hair?”

“It isn’t really pain. It feels more like a whole lot of beestings on my skin. And yes, my hair looks fine. She even managed to trim my eyebrows and keep me from looking like a madwoman.”

“So, are you on your way home?”

“Not yet. I was just leaving the shop when Ruby got a phone call from Gene Bissell’s nephew. Remember, he’s the man who stopped at the wreck and took me to the ER.”

“Oh yeah, so what about him?”

Rachel giggled, making it seem like a big joke on T. J.

“It’s the funniest thing. He was calling her for help because their number was the only local number he had on speed dial. Said he was fixing a leak on the roof when someone’s bull got in his yard and knocked down the ladder. He’s stranded on top of the house, and it’s that old two-story. Can you imagine? I’d be hanging on to the chimney with both hands.”

Bud chuckled, as Rachel continued her tale.

“So… seeing as how he stopped to help me when you were out of town, I offered to drive out and rescue him.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Bud… honey… are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. So you’re on your way to his house?”

“Bud Goodhope! Are you watching TV? I swear to my time, I would appreciate it if you would pay attention when I’m talking to you. I already said I’m on my way out there. So listen up, ’cause I’m not gonna repeat myself again. As soon as I put the ladder back up so he can get down, I’m coming home.”

Bud was already backpedaling. He’d made her mad, and the worst thing that ever happened at their house was when Rachel got mad at him.

“Don’t get yourself in a huff. I was just worrying about you, you know. You’re still a little sore from the wreck, and then you went and burned yourself today. I just didn’t want you straining anything.”

She snorted derisively.

“You weren’t all that worried about my well-being this morning when I got my ass out of bed at 4:00 a.m. to go make breakfast for our guests. And you were suspiciously absent for the next two hours, which tells me you went back to bed. You did, didn’t you? So, you’re worried about my welfare only when it suits you. Thank you so much for your concern. I will be home soon, and if I am in any way delayed, rest assured I will be calling your ass, despite the fact that you will not be able to help me now, any more than you were able to help me the day I had the wreck, because I am driving our only car.”

She hung up before he could respond.

“That’ll give him something to think about,” she muttered, then realized she was at the turnoff, tapped the brakes, and took the turn.

***

T. J. was finished with the repairs. His stuff was packed up, and he was sitting near the edge of the roof waiting to be rescued when he saw a car coming down the driveway. The girls had come through for him in a big way. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and waved.

When the driver pulled the car up to the edge of the yard and got out, the last person he expected to see was Rachel Goodhope. He didn’t know whether to look at this as a windfall or a huge embarrassment.

“Hi!” Rachel said as she hurried across the yard. “Who knew I would get to return the favor so soon?” she yelled.

“I sure appreciate this,” T. J. shouted back.

“Give me a sec,” Rachel said, and began manhandling the huge ladder.

She dragged it over to the house, then finally got it in the air and leaning up against the roof.

“Hang on to the end, and I’ll pull it out to a better angle,” she yelled.

T. J. waved to let her know that he’d heard and grabbed hold of both sides. As she’d promised, she pulled it back until it was at a good, sturdy angle, then got beneath it and grabbed hold with both hands.

“Climb down now. I won’t let go!” she yelled.

T. J. swung a leg over and then went down backward, his tool belt bumping against the rungs as he went. The moment his feet touched hard ground, he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“Lord have mercy! I sure appreciate that,” he said, and turned around to shake her hand.

Rachel eyed his hand, then looked up at him and smiled.

T. J.’s heart skipped a beat. “Uh…”

“How grateful are you?” Rachel drawled.

T. J. grinned. “As grateful as you want me to be.”

Rachel eyed the house. “I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Hot
damn.
“I’d be delighted to show it to you.”

“Can I see it all?” Rachel asked.

It was all T. J. could do to keep his pants zipped until he got inside.

“You can look at it for as long as you want.”

“I don’t have much time,” Rachel said. “This time it’ll have to be a hit and run. Maybe another time I can inspect it much closer.”

T. J. led the way inside and locked the door behind them.

Rachel heard the click and turned around, her eyes narrowing seductively. Before he could move, she started to strip.

“Oh Lord,” he whispered, and dropped his tool belt.

He kicked off his work boots and shucked out of his jeans, then realized how stupid he probably looked with a massive erection poking out from beneath the hem of his shirt and stripped it off, as well. He noticed the little red spots on her arms and neck, and then decided whatever she had, he’d risk catching it.

“My, my, I do so admire that,” Rachel said, as she flattened her hands across his chest, then grabbed his hand and took him toward the sofa.

It occurred to T. J. that he was probably out of his element. He was so not in charge of what was about to happen, which heightened his excitement even more.

“I don’t have all day,” Rachel said.

“I’m gonna make you wish you did,” T. J. drawled, and proceeded to push her down on the sofa and slide between her legs.

Rachel wrapped her legs around his waist and closed her eyes, determined to enjoy the ride.

Twenty minutes later, Rachel was on her way home and as smug as a barn cat with a rat in its belly. Sex with T. J. Lachlan was better than a good allover massage any day. She didn’t have a tense muscle left in her body.

She glanced at the clock and smirked. They’d done the dirty, and she’d been dressed and gone in less than fifteen minutes, with a promise to make a return trip at a later date.

What she needed was a shower to hide the sex smell on her body, but she had another idea that would solve the need for a shower and what to fix for lunch, both at the same time.

Once she got back to Blessings, she pulled into the drive-through at Charlie’s Barbeque and ordered takeout. She’d walk in smelling like barbecue and fries, and that would be that.

Only a few minutes later, she was on her way home with a sack full of barbecue and a satisfied smile on her face. She pulled into the drive and parked, then shifted into defense mode, just in case it was necessary. She walked in the house with her chin up, carrying the sack.

“Something smells good!” Bud said, as he met her in the hall.

“I stopped at Charlie’s on the way home and brought barbecue. After the fiasco at breakfast, I wasn’t in the mood to cook another meal.”

“Good idea,” Bud said, and watched as she began taking things out of the sack. “Looks like we’ll need plates and forks. Did you get extra sauce, or do I need to get ours out of the fridge?”

“I got extra,” she said, and together they got their meal on the plates.

She was carrying them to the table, and Bud was right behind her with their drinks. When she sat down to eat, she flipped her hair back behind her ears.

Bud looked up and then frowned.

“Hey! You’re missing an earring.”

Rachel gasped. “Oh no! Those are my diamond studs!”

She felt her ears and then moaned.

Bud’s suspicious nature kicked into gear.

“So what were you doing out at that house to make you lose a goddamned earring?”

Rachel’s eyes widened in disbelief and then narrowed angrily.

“I cannot believe you just said that!”

“I said it, and I’d be interested in your answer.”

Before she could open her mouth, their phone rang. Bud got up to answer, stomping his feet with every stride that he took.

“Hello. Goodhope Bed and Breakfast.”

“Mr. Goodhope?”

“Yes?”

“Hey, nice to meet you, sir. My name is T. J. Lachlan. Mrs. Goodhope was just out at my place to rescue me off my roof.”

Bud was surprised the man was actually calling their house.

“Yes, I heard,” he said shortly.

“Well, the reason I’m calling is that I just found a diamond earring outside when I went to put up the rest of my extra shingles. It was near where the ladder had fallen, and I guessed it might be hers. Would you ask her if she’s missing one?”

Bud’s stomach knotted. He knew before he opened his mouth that he was about to eat a butt-load of crow.

“Yes, she’s already missed it,” Bud said.

“Well then. I’m so glad I found it. I’m on my way into Blessings in a few minutes to go by the lumberyard and pick up some lumber to repair my tool shed. I’d be happy to drop it by your bed and breakfast.”

“That would be great. I’m sure she’ll be grateful. Thank you for calling.”

“My pleasure, sir. Nice talking to you.”

Bud hung up. When he turned around, Rachel was glaring.

“Uh… that was the Lachlan guy. Said he found your earring outside where the ladder was. He’s bringing it by shortly.”

Rachel stabbed a french fry and poked it in her mouth without answering.

Bud sat back down and reached for her arm, but she snatched it away.

“I’m sorry, Rachel. I guess I just got jealous.”

“You guess? You guess?” She rolled her eyes. “What I’d like to know is why? I have
never
done a single thing to give you reason to distrust me, and you know it.”

Bud was crestfallen and it showed. “I do know. I’m sorry. I said I’m sorry, and I don’t know what else to say.”

“Do me a big favor and don’t say anything,” Rachel said, then proceeded to add a little salt to her ribs and dug into them like a field hand.

The phone rang again.

“I’ll get it,” Bud muttered and once again strode over to the phone to answer. “Goodhope Bed and Breakfast.”

“Hey, Bud, this is Ruby, down at The Curl Up and Dye.”

“Hi, Ruby.”

Rachel glanced up, suddenly curious why Ruby Dye would be calling her home.

“The reason I called is that I found the back of an earring on the floor beneath my chair and I’m thinking it might be Rachel’s. It looks as if it might be real gold, and I know she has some nice jewelry. I actually swept it up with the hair I trimmed. Ask her if she’s missing one.”

Bud sighed. “She is.”

“Great! Tell her I’ve already put it in an envelope for safekeeping and the next time she’s downtown to stop by and pick it up.”

“Yes, I’ll do that,” Bud said. “Thanks for calling.”

He hung up, then looked at his wife and sighed.

“What?” Rachel asked.

“Ruby found the back of your earring at her shop. Next time you’re downtown, she said stop by and pick it up.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Well, that explains how I lost the earring to begin with, now, doesn’t it?”

Bud nodded. “What can I say?”

“Nothing. You’ve already said enough,” Rachel said, then got up with her nose in the air. “I’m exhausted. What with the fire, then the trip to the beauty shop, then out to wrestle that damn ladder up to a two-story house, I’m going to take a nap. When Mr. Lachlan stops by with my earring, try not to make a bigger ass of yourself than you already are.”

Bud’s cheeks flushed angrily. “You don’t have to be hateful.”

“And you didn’t have to act like a green-eyed fool.”

She strode past him with her nose in the air.

A few moments later, Bud heard her slam the door to their bedroom. He sighed, then sat back down and ate his food in silence while Rachel got in the shower and washed the smell of sex off her skin.

When T. J. Lachlan showed up about thirty minutes later, the sight of him didn’t make Bud any happier. The man was fifteen years younger than him, at least six inches taller, thirty pounds lighter, and good-looking. Bud wanted to punch him on general principles, but the man was polite and all business. He introduced himself, invited Bud out to the house for a beer anytime he was in the neighborhood, dropped off the earring, and drove away.