by Kara Lennox
“I want to say something before we get back to town and everything gets crazy.”
“O-okay,” she said, looking apprehensive.
“It’s just that…I know this was hardly your idea of a dream getaway weekend, but I had fun. I enjoy being with you. And not just when you’re naked, either.”
She actually blushed. It might have just been the effect of the cold wind on her face, but he found it charming anyway.
“I’m sorry I’m such an obstinate ass about the money—”
“No, let’s not go there,” she said quickly. “We’ve said all there is to say about the money. I do understand.”
“Then you’re an extraordinarily understanding woman.” He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until they were both out of breath, kiss her until she agreed not to hurry back to New York. But he didn’t like his chances. So he settled for a long hug and a less-than-passionate kiss on the forehead.
“I’m glad I met you, Sydney Baines.”
“I’m not gone yet.”
Yeah, but she would be. They always left eventually. He’d just always recovered and moved on. He wasn’t sure he could this time.
AS SOON AS SYDNEY was safely buckled into her seat, she wasted no time in locating her cell phone, which she’d tucked into her pocket, and turned it on. A couple of minutes later she had a decent signal and she punched in her father’s office number. She was pleased when he answered. At least he was going in to work without her badgering him.
“Hey, Dad, it’s me!”
“Sydney? Jeez Louise, girlie, I been worried sick about you. You okay?”
“Fine, I’m fine. I was stuck in a place that didn’t have any phones and no cell service. Aunt Carol called and told you not to worry, didn’t she?”
“You kidding? We were both worried sick. You better call her and let her know you’re alive. She’s minutes away from calling the National Guard.”
Oh, great. “I’ll call her in a minute. So what’s up with you?”
“Same as usual. Bills and more bills.”
“Don’t do anything with them,” Sydney cautioned her father. “Just stack them up and leave them on my desk. I have a system. I’ll deal with everything soon as I’m back.”
“Yeah, but they’re threatening to cut off the Internet.”
“They won’t cut it off.” Not till the end of the month, anyway, and she’d send them a check by then.
Lowell chuckled, an unusual sound for him. “You sound just like your mother sometimes. She used to juggle the bills like a cardsharp.”
Sydney considered that a high compliment. Usually all she heard from Lowell was how she couldn’t do anything as well as her mother. He often thanked her for stepping in to help at Baines & Baines and never intentionally insulted her. It was just that he missed his wife so much and each thing Sydney did that was slightly different from the way Shirley did it was a reminder of her absence.
“So, other than the bills, how are you?” Sydney asked.
He sighed. “Oh, you know, just passing time.”
“Working on any new cases?”
“Found a guy who’d lost track of a security deposit. Made a whopping fifty bucks.”
“Well, that’s something.”
Really, it was encouraging. Usually his depression didn’t allow him to focus the way he used to. He rarely brought any case to its conclusion. But it had been almost a year since her mother’s death, and Sydney was ever hopeful that with a few nudges from her, Lowell would catch the heir-finding fever again.
“I’ll try to get home tonight,” Sydney said. “If I can’t, I’ll call.”
They said their goodbyes and Sydney disconnected, her heart aching. When she returned to New York, her father would have to file for bankruptcy and she dreaded breaking the news to him.
“Everything okay?” Russ asked.
“Hmm? Oh, it’s just my dad. He sounds really sad and lonely and not much interested in work. I remember when he and my mom used to race each other to the phone. They always competed to see who could bring in the most business each month. They put up a bar chart on the wall and crowed each time they got to fill in another square. Now he doesn’t even bother to answer the phone. He just lets it roll to voice mail or lets me handle everything. He won’t tackle any of the challenging cases anymore.”
Her voice caught in her throat and she quickly swallowed back tears. No more, not now. It was thinking about the bar chart that did it. She’d finally taken it down last month and Lowell hadn’t spoken to her for a solid week.
“I’m sorry,” Russ said softly. “I wish I knew what to say.”
He could say he would accept his inheritance. Money didn’t solve everything, but it would be a helluva lot easier to deal with her father’s grief if they didn’t have to dodge bill collectors.
Sydney quickly called Aunt Carol and get her voice mail. Probably having her hair done, Sydney thought.
Next she called her travel agent. Most everyone made their reservations online these days, but Baines & Baines had been using Debra Grogan’s agency for twenty or more years. Debra was a miracle worker and even in the most trying circumstances could usually figure out a way to get her clients from point A to point B.
“Kiddo, I’m afraid you’re out of luck,” Debra said after searching fruitlessly for a flight from Austin to New York that departed that evening. “Because of the weather delays down there, everything’s booked solid. Earliest I can get you on a plane is ten-thirty-two tomorrow morning, and even then, you’ll be routed through Timbuktu.”
“Okay, go ahead and book it,” Sydney said, not all that disappointed. She didn’t want to have to rush, anyway, and Lowell had sounded reasonably calm.
“I figured you might have trouble getting a flight,” Russ said. “First hint of ice or snow in Texas and everything shuts down.”
“It’s okay. I can visit with my aunt—I hardly ever see her.” Then Sydney happened to look down at herself. “But I can’t go to her place looking like this. She’s one of those proper Southern ladies who wouldn’t dream of stepping outside to collect the mail without a perfect manicure and her face fully made up.” Sydney examined her ragged nails and chipped nail polish and moaned. “What have I done to myself?”
“I happen to think you look pretty good.” Which was a little surprising. It was the fancy clothes, the elegant hair and the long, polished nails that had first drawn him to Sydney. He’d never imagined he would find a woman wearing his cast-off clothes and a hairdo like a bird’s nest to be exciting. But, honestly, she was the most exciting woman he’d ever known no matter what she was wearing.
“Thanks, but you’ve had sex with me. That completely invalidates any and all opinions.”
Russ laughed. “I’ve got an idea. Since you don’t have to leave till tomorrow, why don’t you stay on another day? I’ll take you out for a first-class steak dinner, dancing, the works. I’ll even buy you a new dress. You can stay with me.”
“You wouldn’t mind?” she asked, thrilled, as well as blatantly curious about where he lived.
“Mind?” He laughed.
Sydney smiled. “All right, then, I’ll stay. Dancing is probably out, but I suppose a steak dinner is the least you can do after I was forced to endure a breakfast of succotash and pork-and-beans.”
“The food wasn’t all bad.”
“Not once you were there to cook. But it wasn’t steak.”
They’d reached Main Street. Russ pulled up behind Sydney’s car. “Go check out of the B and B and meet me back at the store. You can follow me home and we’ll get all gussied up at my place and we can paint the town red. Well, as red as Linhart gets.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
After retrieving her purse from Russ’s backpack, Sydney waved goodbye, then drove back to Gibson Street to the Periwinkle. The Milhaus sisters were kind enough not to charge her for the extra nights, since the only thing enjoying the B and B’s hospitality was her suitcase.
“Maybe I will.” The possibility cheered her.
She pulled up in front of the Linhart General Store once again, but she didn’t go inside because she spotted something that interested her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the Cut ’n’ Curl was just across the street and down the block, and Sydney needed a manicure in the worst way. Hopefully, someone at the salon knew how to do nails and would take her as a walk-in. If she didn’t get a manicure in the next twenty minutes she was going to go crazy.
Walking into the Cut ’n’ Curl was like taking a trip back to 1962. The salon was all done in pink and aqua, with three stylist stations in the front room and a row of old-fashioned hair dryers in the back. The smell of permanent solution hung heavy in the air, as did copious amounts of Aquanet hairspray.
Sydney had scarcely walked through the door when she was accosted by a woman with the biggest bleached-blond hair she’d ever seen. “Well helloooooo there,” the woman said. Despite her retro hairstyle, she was entrancingly beautiful. She had big, dark brown eyes, flawless skin and a long Audrey Hepburn neck.
She also had breasts the size of cantaloupes, the cleavage of which she displayed proudly in a low-cut, tight pink uniform. And she was tall—probably close to six feet; most of it legs.
Could this woman possibly be Russ’s mother? She didn’t look old enough.
“What can we do for you today?” the woman asked with a big smile.
Sydney stared at the two women who were having their hair done by the other stylists, who also wore pink uniforms. She hadn’t teased and sprayed her hair like that since her role as Marie Antoinette in her high-school play.
“I’m in desperate need of a manicure,” Sydney said, showing the woman her pitiful nails. “Can you take a walk-in?”
“Honey, for those nails, I’ll make room in my schedule. What have you been doing, climbing trees?”
Sydney relaxed, smiling at the woman’s frank appraisal. “Something like that.”
“You just come on back to the manicure table and we’ll get you soaking. What about a pedicure, too? We got a special going, half-price on the toes if you do the fingers. I know it’s winter and no one sees your feet, but it’ll make you feel pretty on the inside just knowing your toenails are all bright and shiny.”
“Okay, sure.” The price list was posted by the front door, and this place was a bargain compared to what she was used to in New York. She could indulge.
“I’m Winnie, by the way,” the woman said as she led Sydney to the manicure table, confirming her suspicions. “Would you like a trim, too? Maybe a shampoo and blowout? Don’t be put off by all the big hair. Lots of the ladies around here won’t give up their permanent waves or the Dolly Parton look.” She patted her own shaggy bouffant. “But we can do the latest hairstyles, too.”
Much as Sydney would love to indulge in a whole day of pampering after her backwoods adventure, she didn’t have that much time. “Not today,” she said to the affable Winnie.
“Not even a facial? I’ve got this new cucumber mask that I guarantee will leave your face feeling like a baby’s bottom.”
“Is that what you use?” Sydney asked as she unlaced her hiking boots. They didn’t look new anymore. She’d broken them in but good. “I couldn’t help noticing how pretty your skin looks.”
“Well, thank you, hon!” Winnie smiled ear-to-ear, revealing perfectly straight, blindingly white teeth. “I’ve always used a lot of sunscreen, that’s the key.” She disappeared into a back room, and a short time later reappeared with a footbath full of warm water. She plugged it in as Sydney rolled up her jeans and eased her poor, abused feet into paradise.
“My word,” Winnie said, “what did you do to your foot?”
“I sprained my ankle,” she said. “A hiking mishap.”
“Don’t tell me my idiot son took you out into the woods and tried to get you to hug trees.”
Uh-oh. Apparently Winnie had her ear to the ground, because she knew Sydney and Russ had been together. Sydney had better tread carefully. “Well, sort of.”
“I swear, that boy doesn’t have a clue how to impress a woman. Couldn’t he see the moment you stepped out of that car wearing those pretty clothes that you weren’t an outdoorsy type?”
“Oh, but I’m not…that is, we weren’t…” Oh, hell. How was she going to explain this? She couldn’t breathe a word about her true purpose or she would break her promise to Russ, not to mention possibly ruin someone’s life.
Then a thought occurred to her. If Winnie thought Sydney and her son were involved romantically, there would be no need to explain her presence in Linhart. And it wouldn’t be a lie at this point. She and Russ were, after all, going out on a real date tonight, even if it would be their last hurrah.
“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Winnie said in a confidential whisper. “I’m not one of those mothers who thinks no woman is good enough for her son. Truth is, I’d like for Russ to settle down and give me a couple of grandbabies.”
“It’s not that serious!” Sydney blurted out. “I mean, we just met…we’ve only started…” Her face went hot. This was getting worse and worse. No matter what she said, it seemed to give the wrong impression. Winnie had to know she and Russ had spent a couple of nights together.
Winnie laughed. “Settle down, hon. I won’t push, I promise. So other than ruining your ankle, did you enjoy the camping? Frankly I have no use for freezing in a tent and tinkling in the woods, but some people really seem to like it.”
“It wasn’t terrible,” Sydney answered, realizing it was true. “You’re right, I’m not really the outdoorsy type. But Russ made it fun. Besides, there was a cabin, not a tent. And a bathroom, once I found it. He’s a good guy, your son.”
“Oh, don’t I know it,” Winnie said. “We went through some hard times, him and me, back when I was young and stupid. He took care of me more than I did him. From the time he was a little bitty thing he was watching out for me—almost like he knew he was destined to be the strong one of the two of us.”
“He obviously loves you a lot,” Sydney said.
Winnie sniffed and Sydney wondered if she was crying. Maybe she was one of those women who cried at anything. But then she seemed to shake herself out of it. “What color did you want today, sweetie?”
Sydney chose a deep, dark red nail polish, which suited her mood. Then she lay back and let Winnie give her the facial and rub her feet. It had been so long since she’d pampered herself, or spent an afternoon gossiping with a female friend. She missed her mother and the long conversations they used to have, particularly during that last year, when she was ill.
By the end of the afternoon Sydney had the most beautiful hands and feet in the world—and a new friend. Winnie was nothing short of delightful, funny and painfully honest about herself. But Sydney sensed a vulnerability about her, a certain naïveté. She could just imagine how a fast-paced, me-first city like Las Vegas could chew Winnie up and spit her out.
By the time Sydney was done at the beauty shop, it was getting late. She hadn’t brought any clothes with her that were suitable for a fancy restaurant, so she darted next door to Rose’s Dress Shop. The clothes in the window looked very stylish and high quality to Sydney, so it was worth a shot.
With the help of the elderly proprietor, who had a keen eye and knew what would look good on Sydney’s petite, slender frame, she picked out a slinky cocktail dress the color of a caramel apple. She had a pair of low-heeled pumps that would match perfectly and wouldn’t put too much stress on her ankle. Despite the disaster of Baines & Baines’s financial situation, her personal finances were still in decent shape—although nowhere near enough to pay off her father’s debts—and she could certainly afford a dress.
It was dark and most of the businesses on Main Street were closi
ng up by the time Sydney hurried across the street to meet Russ at the general store. She couldn’t wait to see him again. And she was practically coming out of her skin as she considered spending another night with him. How in the world was she going to simply get in her car and drive to the airport tomorrow morning, never to see him again?
WINNIE WAS CLOSING THE BLINDS at the Cut ’n’ Curl when she saw Sydney crossing the street with a large shopping bag from Rose’s Dress Shop. Betty came over and joined her.
“What’s she up to?”
“Just went shopping, apparently. She’s putting her clothes and things into the trunk of her car. I wonder if she’s leaving.”
“She seemed nice. I was busy with Irma’s highlights so I couldn’t really eavesdrop, but it seemed like you two were having fun.”
“She is nice,” Winnie confirmed, which had surprised her. Usually it took some time to win over one of Russ’s girlfriends. At first they were always reserved, ready to compete for Russ’s affections. As if he didn’t have enough to go around. She knew that secretly they thought her big hair was tacky and that she ought to dress more conservatively.
But she was who she was and she’d sensed total acceptance from Sydney. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. If Russ did ever settle down, Winnie hoped she and her daughter-in-law could be friends.
“Nope, she’s not leaving,” Betty said. “She’s going back into the general store. Did she tell you anything more about why she’s here?”
“She and Russ are involved, apparently, despite what Russ said. He took her on some wilderness adventure and she didn’t run away screaming, so that’s a good sign.”
“I thought Bert told you she was here on business.”
“He did. But he was being cagey about it. Come to think of it, Sydney was a little bit vague, too, about how she and Russ met. I mean, she’s from New York.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t have time to tell you before, but I talked to my son about this heir-finder business. Heir finders don’t merely reunite loved ones. They find people who are due an inheritance but don’t realize it and help them recover the funds—for a cut, of course.”