“Have a seat, Boston.” Fox slid into the seat nearest the door and deposited the drinks on the table.
“Boston” took the place opposite. Once they each had a slice of pizza, Fox took a large bite and chewed with enthusiasm, then took a swig from the can of beer. “Just what a body needs after a workout like we had today.”
Lilliana took a smaller bite and savored the spiciness of the sausage and peppers. “This pizza really is good. I didn’t realize there was a place to get pizza in Rainbow Ranch. You’d think it wouldn’t get much business, tucked away off Main Street the way it is.”
“Locals know where it is. The people at the hotel can tell visitors, if they’re interested,” Fox said.
Lilliana finished the crust of her slice and was surprised how quickly she’d eaten.
“Have another,” Fox said, tipping her head toward the box.
“I think I will.” Now that the worst of her hunger was sated, Lilliana ate more slowly. “This is a nice little house. Do you own it?”
“I do,” Fox said. She smothered a burp and grinned. “Excuse me.” She grabbed another slice and started eating it with gusto. Pausing to wipe her mouth, she said, “I’ll give you the grand tour after we’re finished. Shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”
The cowgirl might be a little raw, but Lilliana found herself liking her. At least she was alive, not sitting and staring at the television all day long. “That would be nice. Have you lived here long?”
“About three months. I was trying to keep a low profile, but then I ran into Sam at the gas station, and he insisted on doing that spread about me.”
“What brought you back? There’s not a whole lot to do in Rainbow Ranch.”
“Don’t I know it. You want any more pizza?” Fox’s hand was poised on the open lid of the box. When Lilliana shook her head, Fox closed it up. She rose and headed toward the refrigerator with the remains. “It was time to settle down after all my years on the circuit. I tried Las Vegas for a while, then Phoenix, but what I was really hankering for was the peace and quiet of home. Besides, I’ve got an idea how to liven up this town.”
Lilliana followed with the plates. “And what would that be?”
Fox straightened and leaned against the counter. She folded her arms over her chest. “I’m gonna sponsor a Wild West Show. It will give me something to do, and I know enough people who would be willing to come out for a weekend and show their stuff. Why should Tombstone get all the tourist traffic?”
“Why, indeed,” Lilliana said. “Where would you have this show?”
“Out to my old ranch, southwest of here. I’m gonna talk to the bank next week about renting it out for a weekend.”
So Rebecca’s story had been true. “Do you think they’ll do that?”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask. Ready to see the house?” Fox didn’t wait for her answer, but headed toward the front of the house.
Lilliana took a last sip of her ice water, then followed her across the foyer and into the great room. The first thing she noticed was the painting over the fireplace at the end of the room. “Oh!”
She strode over to it and discovered her first impression was correct. The painting was the original oil of the barrel racer print from the gallery. “I saw this just yesterday at an art gallery in Benson.”
Fox nodded. “Steve did that a number of years ago. Gave me the original as a present for my fiftieth birthday.”
“It’s a lovely painting. The artist does good work. One of the residents of the retirement home bought a print and had it matted.”
“Not you?” Fox asked.
“No, not me, unfortunately,” Lilliana said. “This is a lovely room.” She wasn’t just saying that to be polite. Unlike the others she’d seen so far, the great room was carpeted. Two leather chairs were positioned in front of the fireplace. The fireplace itself was flanked by two bookcases sparsely populated with knickknacks. How you could have bookcases with no books?
A wet bar was to the left and a large window on the wall to the right. Lilliana turned around and saw a sofa covered in a pale yellow print.
“I don’t use it much. TV’s in the bedroom and I eat in the kitchen.”
They did a quick view of the two small bedrooms on the other side of the house, the larger one with a jewelry box, hairbrush, and small television on top of the dresser, and a remote control resting on the nightstand. Obviously Fox’s bedroom.
The front bedroom looked like a typical guest bedroom. Sparsely furnished, the bed made neatly. No pictures or books or any personal touches, except on the dresser. Inside a leather valet tray that sat on top of it was a single key.
Fox led the way back to the dining area. She opened the door to the outside Lilliana had noticed earlier and went through. The sky was purpling with the last of the daylight. The evening star hung in a notch between two mountains in the distance. Even as she watched, she saw other stars appear in the night sky. A coyote howled from somewhere off in the desert.
“You do have a beautiful home,” Lilliana said. “But doesn’t it get lonely all the way out here?”
“Sometimes,” Fox admitted. “But most of the time I’m happier by myself. I’ve tried living with a man, but you can’t trust them. Better to be on your own.”
Lilliana thought back to the key she’d seen in the second bedroom and wondered who the man had been who had left it behind. A husband? A lover? A son?
It seemed rude to contradict her hostess, but Lilliana still missed Charles. He’d always been trustworthy. He’d also been her best friend. And Christopher seemed like a decent man. Could he fill the hole she’d felt since her husband’s death? Her throat constricted and tears threatened. Before she embarrassed herself with blubbering, she pushed away those thoughts. “I think I’d like to go back to the retirement community now.”
“Sure thing,” Fox said and turned from staring at the mountains.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LILLIANA climbed out of the pool and wrung the water from her long hair, which she’d gathered at the back of her neck with a Scrunchee before going for a swim. When she’d gone in, there had been no one else about, being the middle of the breakfast hour, and she’d had the pool and surrounding area to herself for a while.
She’d swum ten laps, clearing her mind of the fairy problem and whatever was going on with Christopher MacAlistair. If anything. To be honest, the handsome Scotsman was one of the reasons she’d avoided breakfast this morning. The other, of course, was she wasn’t hungry. Two large slices of pizza loaded with sausage and peppers last night had lain heavy on her stomach, and a cup of Earl Grey was all she wanted when she woke up this morning.
While she’d been swimming, Nancy had arrived at the pool. She’d claimed one of the lounge chairs and appeared to be knitting another sweater. Several balls of bright-colored yarn clustered around her, and her fingers darted in and out, up and down, as she turned one of them into a row of stitches on her needles.
“Good morning, Nancy.” Lilliana picked up her towel from an adjoining lounge chair and dried her face.
“Good morning, Lilliana.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “You should have come to breakfast this morning.”
“Oh?” Lilliana wrapped the towel around her shoulders and settled herself in the chair. She wanted to dry off before going inside to get dressed for the day. Since it was already in the eighties, getting dry would probably take about five minutes.
“That gorgeous man joined us. His name’s Christopher.” Nancy paused in her knitting, the better to focus on Lilliana’s face. “He was asking about you.”
She hoped the heat she felt suffusing her cheeks wasn’t visible to Nancy. “I wonder why.”
“He said something about seeing you yesterday morning when you went on your morning walk and wondered if he’d missed you this morning. Or whether you were ill or anything.” Nancy returned to her knitting, her fingers moving furiously.
Lilliana’s heart skipped a beat. Not over Christ
opher. Over the thought that Nancy’s attention had been drawn to her hike toward the foothills. She certainly didn’t want to remind her there was anything of interest in that direction. “Well, you know I do different things for exercise. It’s getting too hot, even early in the morning, for hiking.”
Nancy nodded her head. “That’s what I told him.” She held up a bright green ball of yarn. “What do you think of this color for a man?”
Lilliana arched her eyebrows. “A man?”
It was Nancy’s turn to blush. “I’m making Christopher a sweater.”
“What a nice gesture,” Lilliana said, even as a pang of jealousy pricked her chest. Why should she be jealous?
“Lily!” She hadn’t heard Lenny approaching them, despite the sound his thongs made as they slapped against his heels.
“Good morning, Leonard,” Lilliana said. She noticed Nancy’s approving appraisal of Lenny’s physique. Other than the thongs, all he wore was a pair of swim trunks. His well-developed chest was bronzed from spending many hours in the sun. The hours on the tennis court had sculpted his leg muscles into well-defined works of art, something like Michaelangelo’s David.
She had been hoping Lenny would give up the supplements that helped him look that way after she’d caught him out, but it didn’t look as if he had. She supposed it was really none of her business. Still, she worried what ill effects they had on his body. Not the outside, obviously, but the inside.
A group of senior citizens burst through the rear door of the retirement home and headed down the path toward the pool: the Higginses, Willie O’Mara, and some others whose faces Lilliana recognized, but were still unnamed in her experience. Mary and her walker trailed behind.
Her friends headed toward the three already assembled in the lounge chairs, while the others gathered around a round table with an umbrella in the center and began playing a noisy game of cards. So much for the peaceful morning.
After greetings were exchanged, Lenny announced, “I’m going for a swim. Anyone want to join me?”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Mary said. Sarah shook her head. Bob Higgins lowered himself carefully into a chair.
Most of the seniors considered the pool a place to sit beside rather than something they would actually get into. Except for the water aerobics class that was held twice a week. That was something weak muscles and sore joints could do, and the retirement home encouraged the residents to do some kind of physical and mental activity every day.
“I can’t wait for the fireworks tonight,” Mary said.
“Fireworks?” Lilliana asked.
“You know, Lilliana, you really should pay more attention to the announcements they make at breakfast,” Nancy said. “Of course, that would mean you would have to go to breakfast.” Nancy paused in her knitting to meet Lilliana’s eyes. “You’re going to waste away to nothing if you keep skipping meals. First dinner last night, then breakfast this morning.”
She felt uncomfortable under Nancy’s scrutiny. Yes, she should eat more she supposed. But she rarely felt hungry. If the fairies could leave Willie cakes to curb his appetite, perhaps she could ask them for some that stimulated hers. “I had quite enough to eat last night.”
Four heads swiveled in her direction, three of them with expressions that were the equivalent of eager puppies with their tongues hanging out. Only Willie displayed simply moderate interest in the topic.
She quickly recapped the softball practice, followed by pizza at Fox Fordyce’s house, and hoped they’d move on to some other topic. No such luck.
“What’s she really like?” Nancy asked.
Sarah and Mary leaned in to catch every word.
“I enjoyed being with her. She’s a little brash, but she’s lived an interesting life. And she continues to stay active. She even has an idea to start up some kind of wild west show in the town.”
“Where would it be?” Mary asked, a puzzled look on her face.
“She said something about leasing her old ranch. We didn’t discuss it in a whole lot of detail,” Lilliana said. “But what’s this about fireworks?”
“The town is doing a Fourth of July celebration at the elementary school,” Nancy explained. “They’re going to have hot dogs and hamburgers, and the school band is going to play. After dark, there’s going to be a fireworks display.”
“And it’s all free,” Sarah added. “You can pick up tickets for the food at the reception desk. Of course, it’s only one hamburger or hot dog, a side dish, and a drink. If you want more, you have to pay for it yourself.”
Free was sure to draw a large number of the senior citizens to the celebration.
“It sounds like fun,” Lilliana said. She’d totally forgotten today was the Fourth of July. She had just a few other things on her mind.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE scent of charcoal fires and roasting meat drifted across the baseball field as Lilliana and Willie rounded the elementary school building. The swish of her sundress around her legs created a localized breeze in the still-warm evening air. She’d also chosen to wear sandals instead of sneakers and a wide-brimmed hat to shade her face. As promised, the school band was playing a Souza march. The band had set up in the batting cage, and folding chairs for the audience were lined up on the infield on either side of a center aisle.
Some children tossed a Frisbee back and forth behind the chairs, running and jumping and shrieking with delight. Lilliana hoped no one would be hit in the head with it.
Several food trucks selling funnel cakes and Italian ices and other fast food fare ringed the edges of the field. Local merchants displayed their wares on tables. The owner of the hair salon was handing out ten percent off coupons, and Mike of Mike’s Garage handed her a flyer advertising a special on oil changes as she walked by. She passed that on to Willie, since without a car she had no need of an oil change.
Willie leaned his walking stick against his shoulder and folded the flyer in quarters before stuffing it in his pocket. “I hope the special runs for a long time,” he said. “I haven’t driven my car since we took it out in the desert.”
“You probably should at least start it up,” Lilliana said. Charles had been diligent about keeping their cars in good running order when he’d been alive.
“I do. I said drive, not start.” Willie grinned at her, his teeth a brilliant white in his dark face. “Wish I had somewhere to go.”
Maybe Willie could take her into Tucson to go shopping. She hadn’t thought of that solution. She’d resigned herself to waiting a month or more before going on a real shopping trip. “I might have somewhere for you to go,”
“Just tell me when,” Willie said. “I’m getting tired of sitting around. There are only so many cop stories I can read at one time. Now that I have my new hip, I’d like to put it to use.”
Lilliana noticed a crowd surrounding the next table. In addition to some townspeople, Rebecca and Frank and Jaclyn Pulaski were peering at the display. Curious as to what was so interesting, Lilliana edged forward and looked over Rebecca’s shoulder.
A large dish garden was at the center of the table, filled with small plants and the furnishings and knickknacks from the Camerons’ store. Packages of accoutrements lay in rows on either side of the garden. Penny Cameron was holding up one of the little houses and talking to a woman in a red shirt decorated with white stars.
“It’s the latest thing. They say if you put a fairy garden in your yard, the wee folk might come to visit you,” Penny Cameron said.
Lilliana’s heart sank. This was exactly what she’d feared would happen. She was only glad she’d managed to warn Esmeralda before every home in Rainbow Ranch had a fairy garden.
“Isn’t it cute?” The woman wearing the shirt with stars said to her companion, another middle-aged woman who was dressed in a tee-shirt sporting an American flag on the front.
“It sure is,” said her friend. “How much does one of them cost?”
“That all depends on what you put in it,�
�� Penny said. “Today only, I can sell you the components at twenty-five percent off. If you buy twenty dollars worth, I’ll also give you a coupon for a free plant that you can redeem at the store tomorrow.”
“What do you think, Janet?” the woman in the tee shirt asked.
Janet eyed the display skeptically. “I think I’ll pass. But you go ahead. I’ll visit your fairy garden and see if you attract any fairies.”
“That dish looks awfully heavy.” A doubtful look crossed her face.
“I can hold your purchase for you so you don’t have to carry it. Just pick it up before the fireworks. Or whenever you decide to leave.” Penny Cameron smiled widely and proceeded to suggest just which items would work best for her new customer.
Willie was shaking his head as they walked away. “People will believe anything.”
“I know,” Lilliana said. “Fairies. What grownup believes in fairies?” She hoped God would forgive her the lie. “Oh, dear.”
Lilliana had just spied Biff Buckley, a television reporter who covered the area for a Tucson station, with his cameraman, stationed in front of a grill full of hamburgers. A handsome young man who was attractive to the ladies, Buckley was annoying and persistent when he smelled a story. Gray smoke streamed in the background for a moment, then Buckley turned to the vendor and started asking questions. He was obviously doing a puff piece for the evening news.
“What’s the problem?” Willie asked.
“None, I suppose.” Lilliana bit her lip. “I don’t care for that reporter very much.”
“I think he’s harmless,” Willie said. “Especially if there aren’t any murders around.”
She knew Willie was joking, but still she wished the picnic hadn’t been turned into a media event. She supposed it was inevitable, though. There couldn’t be much hard news on a holiday.
Then the reporter’s face lit up, and he waved at his cameraman. “Follow me over here, Joey.”
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