by Gerri Hill
“And meatballs?”
“Yes, actually.” Another smile. “Lentil meatballs.”
“Not gonna complain. You’re an excellent cook. Besides, I could be stuck with Rachel and her beans. Anything could beat that.”
“Nobody lasts with Rachel, although you were probably the quickest to run. Stella really should stop placing guests with her, but Rachel enjoys the company more than anyone, I think.”
“She tried to get me to knit. I was about to stab her with the needles.”
Melanie laughed outright. “Oh, poor Rachel. No, I don’t think she could have handled you.”
“And you can?”
“Of course.” Then she nudged her arm. “After shoes, you want to get lunch?”
Erin grinned. “Lunch? Like a burger or something?”
“If that’s what you want. You’re not at the ranch and you’re not a vegetarian, so yes…if you want a greasy cow burger or chicken or whatever…have at it.” Then she winked. “We just won’t tell Stella.”
Later, though, as she sat across from Melanie, she almost wished she’d gotten the veggie burger. Melanie’s bun was exploding with spinach and lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers and curly sprouts. But, as she bit into her own—hot, juicy, real meat—burger, she couldn’t contain a moan.
“That good, huh?”
Erin wiped the corner of her mouth and nodded. “Excellent. And to think I was envious of yours. This is like a gourmet burger.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You’re not even tempted when you get off the ranch?”
“Tempted to eat meat? No. Not anymore. It’s been over seven years. I’d probably get sick if I ate something like that. If this had been the first couple months, I would have already beaten you up and stuffed you under the table while I had my way with your burger.”
Erin laughed. “Yeah, well…you could have tried to take my burger,” she said as she took another bite. Then she winked. “But you would not have succeeded.”
“So you say.”
They stared at each other, smiling. Erin was the first to look away from the smiling eyes…eyes that were not quite green, yet not quite blue.
“Thank you.”
“For lunch?”
“For everything, really. For taking me in, feeding me, making me get outside and do something. For today.” She met her eyes again. “I…I thought this was going to be a very long, very lonely three months. Honestly, I didn’t think I could make it. Not with my sanity intact anyway.”
“Well, truthfully, I was dreading it as much as you were. I’m used to being by myself, alone…you know, the hermit thing.” Then she smiled. “I never imagined I would find myself becoming friends with you.”
“Yes. Joyce reminded me that I no longer had any friends. I think I had forgotten what it was like to have someone to talk to, be with…laugh with. Normal stuff that didn’t involve the office. I don’t guess I’ve laughed much—if at all—in the last eighteen months. So thank you for that too.”
Melanie looked at her for a beat longer, then nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Erin went back to her burger. “So—about the hot springs. Or the creek. Can we go?”
“Sure. If you help me with some of my chores, then I can spare an afternoon.”
“Deal. Because I did buy a swimsuit, just in case.”
Melanie met her gaze again, a slow smile forming. “A swimsuit can be used for the creek, if you want.”
Erin arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Hot springs are meant to be enjoyed naked.” Melanie reached over and stole a fry from her plate. “I actually enjoy them both naked. I don’t own a suit.”
Erin was shocked when she got a mental picture of that. She’d seen Melanie in shorts and a tank as she’d worked in her garden. It didn’t take much to imagine her without the shorts and tank.
What really shocked her the most, though, was that it wasn’t Sarah’s face and body she pictured. That was a first. The handful of women she’d slept with in the last eighteen months—including Jessica, the last one she’d attempted to date—it was always Sarah she was in bed with, never them.
She met Melanie’s gaze, but her blueish green eyes were a bit guarded. A smile was still playing around her lips, however.
“A hermit…and yet an exhibitionist. Who would have thought?” she teased.
Melanie simply smiled at her as she stole another fry from her plate.
Chapter Nineteen
“Are you sure?”
She went up onto the porch, beckoning Erin to follow. “You said you wanted to get your hair cut.”
“Yeah. I do. But…” Erin lowered her voice. “Does she know what she’s doing?”
Melanie patted her arm reassuringly. “Dianne owned her own shop in her previous life. She cuts everyone’s hair here, including mine.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “In fact, it’s time for me too. I usually cut it short every summer, then let it grow the rest of the year. It’s about to drive me crazy. I’m at least a month past due.”
She knocked on the door. “Dianne? It’s Mel,” she called loudly, knocking again.
The screen door opened and Dianne peeked out, her smile nearly beaming as she looked past her to Erin.
“You must be our guest. How nice of you to bring her around, Mel.” Dianne made a show of puffing and straightening her hair, which still had a trace of auburn color to it.
“Yes. This is Erin,” Melanie introduced. “Sorry to come unannounced, but…”
Dianne waved her apology away. “I don’t have a phone. What should you do? Send a smoke signal?”
Melanie saw the amused expression on Erin’s face, and she smiled at her, then turned back to Dianne. “Erin wants a haircut. So do I. Do you have time?”
“Oh, my goodness! Yes, of course! I’ve just come in from the garden. I try to get my chores out of the way before it gets too hot, you know.” She opened the door wider. “Come in, come in.”
“Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Erin said as she followed Melanie inside.
“Oh, of course. I take care of everyone out here.” Dianne led them into the kitchen. “Sit, sit. I’ll put coffee on.”
“Don’t go to any trouble,” Melanie said quickly, knowing it would fall on deaf ears. Dianne, like most of the others, enjoyed company. Besides coffee, she knew that Dianne would push food on them as well.
“I must have known you were coming,” Dianne said, ignoring her comment as she busied herself with the coffeemaker. “I baked a zucchini cake just this morning.”
“Zucchini cake?” Erin whispered questioningly to her.
“Yes. It’s very good. I was actually going to bake one too.”
“Are your zucchini as thick as mine?” Dianne asked her. “Bumper crop this year. I have no idea what I’ll do with them all.”
“Yes. We’re eating squash for practically every meal. Erin is probably sick of it.”
“Not yet,” Erin interjected.
“Oh, well…we must eat what our gardens provide, mustn’t we.” Dianne placed three cups on the table. “Have you adjusted to being here, Erin? I heard Rachel ran you off rather quickly.”
Melanie smiled as Erin had an embarrassed look on her face.
“She…well, I can’t decide if it was the threat of knitting or the beans and broccoli she served for breakfast.”
Dianne laughed. “Oh, poor Rachel. I hope I never get to where our guests run from me.” She poured coffee into each cup, then pushed over an ancient sugar bowl. “I have some cream if you like. I know Mel likes hers black.”
“None for me, thanks.”
The zucchini cake came out next and they spent the next twenty minutes or so making idle chitchat while they ate. She didn’t know if Erin was getting restless or not, but she sure was. She declined a second cup of coffee.
“I’ve got to get back into my garden this afternoon,” she said. “And we shouldn’t take up any more of your ti
me.”
Dianne didn’t seem offended and she turned her attention to Erin. “So how are you wanting your hair, Erin? A trim or something more drastic?”
Erin fingered her hair now, which Melanie noted was looking so much better—alive—than when she first met her.
“I’m thinking drastic.” Then she looked at Melanie as if for confirmation. “A change. Being out here is an emotional, mental change for me. I think I need a physical change too. Don’t you think?”
“Too drastic might be a shock for you. Is this how you’ve had it for a while?”
“I haven’t really bothered with it…in a year and a half or so.”
“I see.” Meaning, since Sarah had left her. She reached out a hand now, touching Erin’s hair. It was thicker than she’d thought. It had looked so thin, so lifeless, dull and dingy. Now? Now it had a healthy shine to it; it was soft, silky. Then she dropped her hand, realizing she had no right to be touching her like that. “Drastic is good.”
“Let me get my things. We’ll do it on the back porch. Show her, Mel. I’ll be right back.”
Erin stood up when Dianne left. “That cake was really good. I’m not going to complain too much if you make one of those.”
Melanie was smiling as she led Erin to the back porch. It was such a change—a pleasant change—to cook for someone. Someone who enjoyed eating. She wouldn’t have suspected that about Erin. Not after their first meeting. She turned, studying her. She’d been here over three weeks already. She’d obviously gained some weight, which was badly needed. Her face was no longer gaunt, her skin no longer pale. Her eyes had lost the cloudiness from the first few days. The hazel eyes were bright, nearly twinkling now. She was amazed at the transformation.
“What?”
Should she apologize for staring? “You look good.”
“Oh, yeah? Compared to what? Me on death’s door?”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you do it?”
“Let myself go like I did?” Erin turned away from her. “I don’t know, really. Several things. I blamed it on a broken heart, bruised ego. I was hurt, lonely… Lost. The only constant in my life was the job and I made that my sole focus. I ran—and hid—from what had become my reality.”
“You must have been terribly in love with her.”
Erin met her gaze. “I must have been, right?”
Melanie could see the doubt in her eyes. Yes, she supposed after eighteen months, doubt would creep in.
The back door opened and Dianne came out with her kit. “Sit in the tall chair there, Erin.”
Melanie pulled out another chair to sit and watch. Erin had a bit of an apprehensive look on her face as Dianne flung an old, faded, cloth cape around her and tied it at her neck.
“Do you want a mirror?”
“No. Better not.”
“Okay. I’m going to start trimming. You tell me when to stop. Then I’ll get it all shaped up for you.” She looked at Melanie. “This is so exciting! Everyone always gets the same old thing. And you, Mel, you look so cute with your hair shorter. I don’t know why you won’t let me keep it up for you all year instead of just summer.”
Melanie knew why, of course. It wasn’t something she fussed with and having to sit through a haircut every five weeks or so was too much trouble. But she said what she’d said last year.
“Maybe I’ll come by more often.”
“Heard that before,” Dianne muttered as she snipped off about two inches of Erin’s hair.
For the most part, Erin kept her eyes closed and Melanie wondered what she was thinking. She also wondered how Erin normally looked…prior to Sarah leaving. She’d been so thin, so frail looking before, she hadn’t really noticed her attractiveness. She imagined when she was healthy—normal—she was quite striking. Her hazel eyes were dark with just a hint of green in them. As she stared, those eyes opened, meeting hers. A quick smile, then Erin closed them again.
Melanie was shocked that Dianne kept cutting and Erin had yet to stop her. Another two inches and she’d be over her ear. The back was already above her neckline. She glanced at the pile of hair on the porch around the chair, wondering if maybe this was cleansing for Erin. She looked up, seeing Dianne flick her gaze at her then back to Erin.
“Should I keep going, dear?”
Erin kept her eyes closed. “Mel can decide.”
Melanie’s eyes widened. “Me? But…”
“Drastic,” Erin reminded her.
Melanie got up, moving in front of her, close enough that her thighs brushed Erin’s knees. She ran her fingers through Erin’s hair, brushing it back. It was all one length and needed some layering done but…
“Over the ears,” she said. “Then layered some on top.”
“Yes, I think so,” Dianne agreed. “She’s quite pretty this way. Handsome,” Dianne said with a fluttering of her eyelashes. At that, Erin’s eyes popped open.
Melanie met them and smiled, letting her hand fall away. “Yes. Handsome.”
* * *
Erin rubbed her hand over her hair once again. Never in her life, not even in college, had she worn her hair this short. She had yet to look in a mirror, but both Melanie and Dianne had insisted it looked “wonderful” on her. If it looked anything like Melanie’s neatly trimmed hair, she’d be pleased. Erin had to agree with Dianne. Mel looked gorgeous with short hair. It was a fresh, sporty cut and it suited her. But Erin knew why she only got it cut once a year. It was quite the ordeal and knowing Melanie as she did now—and her professed claim that she was a hermit—she would imagine this was a bit too much for her to endure. The coffee, the visiting, the haircut, and more visiting.
“You’re fidgeting. Look in the mirror already,” Melanie said, motioning to the visor above her head when they were heading back home.
“I’m afraid to,” she admitted.
“It looks good,” Melanie said. “Of course, I didn’t know you before or how you are supposed to look, but this is a good look for you. Much better, in my opinion.”
“Yours too. I like it like that. You should keep it.”
“Do you?” Melanie bounced them along the crude road in her truck, turning along the creek that would take them back to her cabin. “It’s definitely easier. And I don’t know why I put it off…you know, getting more frequent haircuts.”
“Don’t you?”
Melanie smiled. “What? You think you know me already?”
Erin laughed. “Yeah, I do. Hermits don’t like quite that much visiting.”
When Melanie parked next to the cabin, between the two trees that she’d told Erin were piñon pines, the old white dog limped over. They hadn’t seen him in nearly a week.
“I see Fred has made it back around.” Melanie slammed the door, then bent over to pet his head. “Where have you been, boy?”
“So he roams from house to house?”
“Pretty much. I don’t know why they were so adamant that I adopt him. Everyone takes care of him. I probably see him less than they do.”
“Do others have pets?”
“Oh, a few. Angela has two cats. Rebecca has a little house dog. A few have outdoor dogs.” She held open the door. “Come on. I want to see your reaction to your hair.”
Erin followed her into the house and instead of going into her tiny bathroom, Melanie led her into her own bedroom. It was neat and tidy and airy, with three windows, all open. It was quite a bit larger than Erin’s room. Big enough for both a dresser and a set of drawers and…
“A king bed?”
Melanie shrugged. “It’s what I had when I moved.”
She pushed open another door, revealing a large bathroom with a walk-in shower. It, too, was neat and tidy. Erin paused at the door, then stepped in, her eyes going to the mirror without much delay. And who in the hell was she looking at? Surely that wasn’t her. The hair looked even shorter than it felt and she brought a hand to it now, fingers moving slowly above her ear.
�
�Well, it’s drastic, all right.”
Melanie stood beside her and they looked at their reflections in the mirror, their eyes meeting that way. Melanie smiled at her.
“I’m sure it’s a shock to you, but it looks really, really good.”
“A shock, yes. I don’t…” She shook her head. “I don’t recognize myself.”
“Give it a few days.” Melanie touched her own hair, the part on the side still in disarray from the wind. She straightened it. “This is how I prefer to keep mine. In fact, I wouldn’t mind it to be as short as yours.”
“Only because you wouldn’t have to go back as often,” Erin teased. Then her smile faded. “Why don’t you like people?”
“I never said I didn’t like people.”
“Then why the hermit thing?”
Melanie looked away from her gaze in the mirror, touching Erin’s shoulders and turning her, nearly pushing her out of the bathroom.
“I believe you promised to help me in the garden this afternoon in exchange for some playtime in the creek tomorrow. Instead of lunch, I thought we could do an early dinner. I’m too full of cake and coffee to think about lunch.”
“Just tell me it’s none of my business.”
“Okay. It’s none of your business. There. Now go change into something suitable for the garden.” She motioned toward her bedroom door. “We have compost to move today.”
Erin looked at the shorts she had on. One of the new pairs of hiking shorts she’d bought. “Suitable?”
“Jeans. You’ll be on your knees.”
Erin stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching as Melanie went into her bathroom and quietly closed the door. She wondered what demons Melanie was fighting. Now that she had her wits about her, now that she wasn’t wallowing in self-pity, she could see the sadness in Mel’s eyes, could see the wall she’d built around herself. What was she trying to keep out?
Who was she trying to keep out?
Chapter Twenty