Lola added her voice and knelt in front of Rosie. She had her brown hair in a French braid and wore a blue checked button-down that accentuated her curves without showing an inch of cleavage.
Why couldn’t Pris dress more like Lola?
“Not…singing.” Iggy’s face was turning red.
“Easy now.” Drew got to his feet when Rosie had calmed, and helped the pig to hers.
Still draped in a black towel, Rosie pressed her snout against Lola’s thigh and snuffled.
“Yes. That must have been very scary,” Lola said sympathetically, scratching Rosie behind her ears.
“Pigs.” Iggy stood, stretched from side to side, cracking his back, and then returned to his truck. “I’ll stick with bulls.”
“Are you okay?” Drew asked Lola softly.
“Maybe you should be asking Rosie that.” She smiled but not big enough to show her dimple.
Drew wanted to kiss her good morning. Why couldn’t he want to kiss Wendy?
A surge of annoyance made him say, “Next time a pig charges you, hold the towel to the side. If Iggy wasn’t around, you would’ve been trampled.”
Smirking, Iggy was backing out of the driveway. “Way to thank a woman, Taylor.”
Using the leash, Drew led Rosie back to his side. “Lola knows I’m grateful and thinking about her safety.”
“I suppose,” Lola said grudgingly. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell when you’re being the sheriff and not Drew. What’s next? A lecture about my window?”
“No.” The drapes were closed, which was a relief until Drew noticed a plastic arm holding a lacy bra extending between the curtains. “And I don’t always lecture people.” But Lola was the third woman to chastise him about lecturing this morning. And it wasn’t even nine.
He led Rosie toward the sidewalk. “It’s a sheriff’s job to be honest.” Criminy. If he were being honest, he’d admit he wanted to see her dimpled smile again.
“There’s a difference between supportive honesty and being a pessimistic pain in the neck.”
Drew rubbed the back of his neck before he realized what he was doing, and dropped his hand. He should find out whom Pris was getting busy with and tell them to back off, because they were rebound bait. He should give up on Rosie, load her into the back of the cruiser, and take her to the Bodine ranch. He should call his mother and ask her to meet him at Eileen’s to help clean out the place.
Instead of attending to the hard duties of older brother and sheriff, he turned at the sidewalk and leaned down to pet Rosie so he could spend a few more minutes with Lola. “Does it hurt your feelings? When I tell you the hard truth?” He kept his gaze on the pig. It was safer than looking at the attractive woman on the lawn.
“Sometimes the truth hurts no matter who points it out to you.” Lola meandered to the end of the driveway.
His eyes started at the pointed toe of her boots, up those legs, across those gentle curves, and landed on her face. “You’re beautiful.”
“And you…” Lola stepped closer, bringing a light flowery scent that was worlds different than Rosie smell. She smoothed his uniform over his shoulders, letting her palms rest there, letting her gaze rest on his.
His hand found its way to her hip. His mind encouraged his mouth to find its way to hers.
Rosie sighed and sat on his foot, as if he needed a reminder that he’d chosen a different path, an uninspired, humdrum path. One that would ensure Becky stayed true to her Taylor genes.
Lola sighed too, letting her hands drift to her sides, easing his hand free. “You’re dating Wendy.”
He opened his mouth to deny it but nothing came out.
She glanced across the street to Ramona Everly’s house and lowered her voice. “Someone went through Randy’s stuff. I put a tarp over it last night. It’s been moved, and some things are missing.”
“Things you wanted to donate to the thrift store?” The items Ricky had turned down.
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes. Can you dust for prints? In case it was one of Randy’s mistresses?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m tired of hearing about Randy and his lovers.” Rosie bumped into his leg, and he softened his tone. “You want the truth from someone who’s flawed? Take it from me. The past will trip you up if you don’t move on.”
He should have seen Jane coming. He should have gotten remarried long ago. He’d just never come across anyone who made him want to share his life, his bed, his closet…
His gaze fell to the high heels of Lola’s boots. “Those shoes aren’t practical for the high country.”
Lola sniffed and whirled away, tossing over her shoulder, “Who said I was practical?”
And that was the trouble.
Lola wasn’t practical.
She was Jane all over again.
* * *
“I should have driven,” Lola said in a stress-punctured voice.
Mims patted Lola’s knee while Clarice parked her minivan at the mall in Greeley. She was used to her friend’s radical driving style. Much as she liked Lola, despite all her drama, she was a distraction from Mims’s goal of matching Edith. Bitsy had never gotten with the program as it pertained to Edith. It was the poker game all over again. The matchmaking board remained divided.
“But if you drove”—Clarice glanced over her shoulder at Lola—“we wouldn’t all fit in your little car.”
They could have squeezed into Mims’s Subaru or Bitsy’s compact sedan. Mims drew the line at Edith’s small truck. It was bad enough the woman had wormed her way into the trip. Three months ago, before Charlie died, Mims wouldn’t have allowed it. She’d have been firm in her refusal. She’d have known what to say to help Lola settle down. She’d have known how to get herself out of this funk.
“The dresses wouldn’t fit in Lola’s car either,” Bitsy added from the front seat.
“I meant, I should have driven for you.” Lola released her seat belt. “I can drive us home.”
“Why?” Clarice shook her head. “The seat and mirrors are adjusted for me.”
“She doesn’t like your driving,” Edith said in a loud voice, most likely in case Clarice wasn’t wearing her hearing aids.
“You don’t have to shout.” Clarice tapped her ears, pointing out her hearing aids were in. She opened her door. “There’s no problem with my driving. I’ve never gotten a ticket or been in an accident.”
“Yet,” Lola added under her breath.
Mims patted her knee again. “It’s best if you remember her clean accident record.” Whereas Mims had backed into someone at the supermarket last month. “And better if you don’t dwell on her technique.” She dug in her purse for gum, finding it beneath her handgun.
Everyone got out and walked toward the largest department store at the mall. Lola brought up the rear, her heels keeping a slow cadence behind them.
“We’re meeting with the nicest man.” Mims sidled closer to Edith. “Sonny Baker. He’s the store manager. He’s always supportive of our causes. And he’s single.”
Edith glanced back at Lola, who was falling behind with Bitsy.
“Lola, dear,” Bitsy said in her pleasing customer service voice, “I was wondering if you felt up to doing the fashion show.”
“I’m fine. My hips are a little stiff from my cupcake fall but…” Lola cleared her throat. “But that’s not what you’re asking. You’re wondering if I’ll behave.”
Lola may have been going through a rough patch but she was one sharp cookie.
“It’s not that we don’t want you there,” Bitsy said before Mims could say Lola passing on the show was for the best. “It’s just that we don’t want any…disruptions.”
“I understand,” Lola said woodenly, immediately eliciting Mims’s sympathy and causing the Widows Club president some guilt.
“Everyone’s welcome to model,” Mims said gruffly.
“I remember the first time I was widowed.” Bitsy held on to her b
lack hair bow against a stiff gust of wind. “It took me a long time to get over Jim’s death.”
“Longer than a year?” That note in Lola’s voice…Was it loneliness?
Mims glanced back. Lola’s eyes were wide and a bit teary.
Bitsy was nodding. “And do you know what finally made the pain ease?”
Mims’s toe caught on the pavement. She turned back around before she could fall and break a hip.
“No,” Lola said. “What?”
“I met my second husband, Terry.”
Mims was reminded why the Matchmakers Club existed—to help women find true love. If only Edith would fall for a man’s charms, then Mims could help Lola find a new purpose in life.
“I don’t think a new man can answer the questions left by my old one.” Lola’s voice was firm.
“Sometimes a new man makes the old questions less important,” Bitsy soothed as they reached the department store’s doors.
Only then did Mims realize Edith had been unusually silent. She hoped she got the message Bitsy was sending: Love heals.
A distinguished-looking gentleman wearing a crisp shirt the same color as his white hair and a plain burgundy tie unlocked the glass door for them and held it open. Sonny Baker always made a good first impression. He wore glossy black loafers, a big shiny watch, and a lady-killer smile. If he couldn’t charm Edith out of the Widows Club, no man could.
“My girls!” He hugged the board, complimenting each woman. Bitsy on her ruffled silk blouse. Clarice on her comfortable shoes. Mims on the pink purse she’d bought used online. “And who are these two lovely ladies?”
“Two of our models.” Mims introduced Edith and Lola.
“Edith.” Sonny kissed the back of her hand. “Welcome to the team.” He surveyed Edith as if she were a line of shoes he was considering buying. And then he took Edith’s arm and whisked her inside. “I chose all the ensembles and accessories. This year, I added pantsuits.”
“I requested a bikini,” Edith said testily, head swiveling back and forth as if she’d never been in a department store before.
“No bathing suits,” Mims hissed.
“That’s against the rules,” Clarice added.
Sonny chuckled. “As I recall, I chose an evening gown for you, Edith.” He led them to a back room with a rack of clothing on wheels and a box filled with accessories and handbags. He handed Mims a clipboard. “Here’s your list of what we chose, along with the names and sizes of the models you gave us. I added product descriptions your emcee can read for each model.” Flashing his well-rehearsed smile, Sonny produced a business card from his wallet and handed it to Edith. “If you need anything, call me. Or walk down the hall until you find the biggest office.” He winked. “And we can talk.”
He’d laid it on too thick. Mims shook her head.
Sonny was a ladies’ man, and he enjoyed the finer things in life. He might not whisk Edith away from Sunshine forever but he might be the distraction she needed to realize she could love more than one man in her lifetime.
Edith watched Sonny walk away, a frown wrinkling her already wrinkled brow. And then she handed the business card to Lola. “I think this is for you.”
Mims nearly choked on her gum.
Lola dropped back a step and waved Edith off. “He didn’t kiss my hand or ask me to his office.”
Edith stared at the card again. “Whatever would he want with an old biddy like me?”
“A dinner date,” Clarice suggested, taking a seat in a chair in the corner.
“A cruise companion,” Bitsy said somewhat wistfully, stroking a purple feather on an evening gown.
Trying to keep her tone casual, Mims didn’t look up from the clipboard. “Someone to take moonlit walks with.”
“He was clearly smitten,” Lola said with a straight face.
Mims nearly hugged Lola for joining their cause.
“He’s after the wrong gal.” Edith picked up the gown with the purple feathers and pulled a face. “And the wrong dress.”
“I don’t know.” Mims angled the clipboard so Edith could see the list Sonny had made. “It says right here, ‘Purple-Passion Plumes for Edith.’ The ideal choice for a romantic dinner at the Bar None.” Which was the most expensive steakhouse in Greeley.
Edith studied Sonny’s card and said nothing for a long time.
Chapter Nineteen
The light was on in the garage apartment when Drew got home near midnight.
He sent his teenage babysitter home and changed out of his uniform, locking his gun in the safe. Becky was sprawled on her stomach in bed, her arm dangling over the edge of the mattress. Drew rolled her over and tucked her in. And then he went to the garage apartment to check on Lola.
There was no music. No candlelight. No woman dancing.
Drew was almost disappointed.
Lola sat on the floor in the corner, her back against the wall, staring at the bed. Her hair was looped high on her head. She wore a pair of plain black leggings, a plain gray jacket, and a plain old frown.
When she didn’t acknowledge Drew, he sat on the floor nearby, back to the wall, legs stretched out in front of him. “Looking for clues?”
“Looking for perspective.” She leaned her head against the wall and gazed at the ceiling. “My dad left my mom for the pregnant woman he was having an affair with. Would he have stayed if they had better birth control?”
It was easy to see where she was going with this line of thought. “Randy didn’t leave you.”
“But he might have. Eventually. If the condoms failed.” She turned her head to look at him.
There was pain in her blue eyes, and something else. Something he couldn’t quite place. Something that reached into his chest and took hold.
“I was in a race without knowing I was in the running.” Lola’s eyes drifted toward the blue bedspread. “Remember, Randy married me even though technically he didn’t ask. He had some measure of honor. If one of his mistresses had gotten pregnant, he’d have left me.”
“Then it would have been his loss.” Drew knew it was true.
Judging by the worried slant to her eyes, he could tell she didn’t believe him. “After Dad left, every little thing was a big deal to my mom. She couldn’t let things go, especially if she felt lied to.” She slipped Drew a sideways smile, so fleeting he might have missed it if he hadn’t been staring at her. “I know I can overreact a little sometimes.”
“Cue sarcasm.”
“And when Mom finally got her head on straight where Dad was concerned, she clung to me.” She hugged her knees. “Well, not exactly me. But the idea of me. Of family. Of something that was hers that couldn’t be taken away like a husband could. A daughter she wanted to make sure had her eyes wide open so she’d never make her mother’s mistakes.” Lola sniffed but it wasn’t a juicy, I’m-about-to-cry sniff. It was more of a draw-a-breath-for-courage sniff. “You’d think I’d be the wiser, what with all her clinging and prophesizing.”
He nodded, thinking about being broadsided by Jane.
“I was lucky. I had my grandmother, who was the most positive woman on the planet. She wanted me to follow my dreams…” Her voice trailed off, and then she added in a soft voice, “Just like Avery’s grandmother did. I miss Avery so much. She won’t answer my calls or texts.”
“You’ll patch things up with her.” Drew reached across the space dividing them and took her cold hand.
Lola stared at his fingers wrapped around hers. “When my half sister was born, my grandmother took me to visit. My dad barely acknowledged my presence. He held his new daughter and told her and his new wife how much he loved them.”
“But not you.” He laced his fingers with hers. “What an idiot.”
She shrugged. “When Randy came along, I told myself my mother wasn’t right about love being shallow. Randy loved me deeply. But I was wrong, and Mom was right.” Lola squeezed Drew’s hand, just a gentle pulse, more of a reflex than a need to strengthen their conne
ction. “One way or the other, people leave. Dad left Mom. I left Mom to come here. Jane left you.” Lola raised those blue eyes to his. “If Randy hadn’t died, he’d have left me eventually, right?”
Drew wanted to say no. But he was a man of the law. Right and wrong. Facts versus circumstantial evidence. He had no proof. “It might help if you asked me questions I could answer.”
“I save the hard ones for you.” She tried to laugh, leaning back against the wall. “This is where you tell me I shouldn’t let things like this keep me up at night.” She spoke so calmly, without drama or self-pity, without any of the myriad emotional demands his sisters tossed at him.
She wasn’t in a place that was Wonderful. She wasn’t in Woe-Is-Me or Watch-Out-World mode. Wherever she was, Drew hadn’t mapped it before.
Lola was waiting for him to say something. He’d prefer she talk so he could puzzle out her mood, find something in his past he could compare it to, and put it in context. But talk, he did.
“It’s no secret my father left my family and didn’t look back. I guess when I returned to Sunshine and saw Jane after all those years…” Drew, who prided himself on his interrogation skills, couldn’t remember how to keep his mouth shut. He felt his way through the past, shoulders tense. “Jane with all her dreams of leaving Sunshine…In a way…I thought…”
“That you could stop her,” Lola finished for him.
The accuracy of her words relaxed his shoulders, relaxed the stopper he kept on his past. “I’d been overseas. I’d been a big-city cop in New York. Jane didn’t know how good she had it here.” Explosions. Gunshots. Turf wars. Angry commuters. Angry protestors. Angry tourists. “We got married, and I told her we could move someday.”
She squeezed his hand again. “But you didn’t really mean it. You love it here.”
How did Lola know that when Jane hadn’t? “I thought she’d settle down and embrace the idea of staying.” Of singing on Saturday nights at Shaw’s or Sunday in church.
“She had to experience the world beyond Sunshine for herself.” Lola’s eyes were luminous.
She understood. The feeling he couldn’t identify in his chest ratcheted tighter. “I don’t regret it. I have Becky.”
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