by Jennie Jones
“So you lied.”
“I exaggerated.”
Saul checked her out below her ragged head as she popped open the pink salon cloak she wore and drew it down her bare, tanned arms. Was he attracted? Hard to say. Her apricot-colored shorts were cute, the frayed edges resting on toned thighs. Nice knees, too. He couldn’t see her ankles because she wore brown leather side-zip ankle-boots which were well-worn and contradicted the makeup. But if she’d turn her back for a second and bend slightly, he’d get a look at what he figured was probably a great asset.
“I need to get out of these rags,” she said, and Saul lifted his gaze.
Oh, yes. She had lovely eyes. Appealing in some way he couldn’t yet discern. “What happened to your head?”
“Nothing. These are ringlets.”
“For what?”
“For pleasure.”
“If you say so.”
A noise to his left made Saul take his eyes off the woman he wasn’t sure if he was attracted to, and onto a sight that had him forcing his eyes not to widen.
A woman in pink, head to toe, with hair styled higher than any he’d seen, and a sassy voluptuousness that would have seen his mother asking her to leave a room that was full of her sons.
She stopped in the doorway and stared at Saul. “Oh—Molly!”
“I know, Momma. I thought so, too, but don’t start. I’m not right—remember? And neither are you!”
“What have we got here?” Momma swayed across the salon, her heels clicking on the tiles. “Oh, honey.” She took his hand and held it it both of hers. “Did you find yourself drawn to Hopeless out of some extraordinary need?”
“Momma,” the younger Mackillop said in a warning tone.
“Kind of,” Saul admitted, smiling at Momma. From a distance, he hadn’t noticed anything but the glamor and the color. Close-up, he could see warmth in her eyes and humor in her smile.
“Have you had lunch?” she asked.
“Breakfast. I cooked up some sausage and cornbread.”
She threw a glance over her shoulder at her daughter. “He cooks.”
The daughter’s shoulders sank and her head dropped forward.
“Could you find room for chocolate cake?” Momma asked him, and Saul’s stomach rumbled.
“Wouldn’t say no.”
“Winnie, bring some of that chocolate cream sponge for our visitor.” She turned to Saul. “That’s Winnie, my precious assistant. What’s your name, honey?”
“Saul Solomon.”
“Isn’t that a big brave masculine name? Make it a large slice, Winnie!”
Saul smiled, then noticed that the shorter Mackillop had put her head into her hands.
Momma held out her hand. “I’m Momma Marie. You can call me Marie.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Marie.”
“I hope you don’t have a fear of heights.”
“I didn’t the last time I looked down.”
“Because let me tell you, Saul, I’m tired of worrying about my daughter shinnying up ladders to get onto that roof every day.”
“I’m sure that would be a worry.” She’d likely get her ringlets caught in the cross-beams.
“What was your last job?”
Saul coughed. He was having an interview and he was pretty sure he hadn’t applied for the job yet. “Ranger. Six years, here in Texas.”
“And?” she prodded.
“Builder. Sometimes carpenter, as long as it’s not too fancy.”
“And before that?”
“Ranger. Colorado. Born and raised on a cattle ranch, ma’am.”
He was aware of Molly lifting her head and looking his way, but he kept his eyes focused on the interviewer.
“Why did you leave?” Marie asked.
As far as he was concerned, there’d been no choice. “Adventure.”
“And?”
Man, she was tough. He’d always been the adventurous kind, but having to leave what he’d thought was his family home, and attempt to forget the previous twenty-four years of his life hadn’t been what he expected. “I’m not rightly sure.” He hadn’t planned on leaving Colorado six years ago, even after all the lies. He certainly hadn’t envisioned himself in any part of Texas, but that was where he’d landed.
“Being not rightly sure is a sign,” Marie told him. “We believe in signs in Calamity Valley. Actually,” she added, with a playful pull of her mouth, “we don’t have a choice in that department.”
He didn’t know what she was referring to, and didn’t have a chance to ask because the precious assistant came into the salon with a plate and a fork, and a more than decent slice of cake.
“Thank you,” Saul said, dipping his head to Winnie as he took the plate. He cut a slice, knowing he had to eat up, and more importantly, enjoy.
The younger Mackillop moved, and caught his eye as he raised the fork. She turned and bent over the salon chair to retrieve something.
There it was. One charming little apricot-clad butt.
“Hey,” Marie said, grabbing his attention.
Saul took his eyes off her daughter and grinned apologetically. He forked cake into his mouth.
“Are you a decent, honest man with integrity?” Marie demanded.
Saul swallowed the cake, which was possibly the best he’d ever had. “My mother hopes so.” Not that he worried anymore what she thought. “My grandpa brought me up to respect others, which is something I do, unless I’m called upon to do otherwise.”
“Where’s your family?”
“Back in Colorado, ma’am. Grandpa, Mom.” He’d gotten used to not mentioning the three brothers and a sister. He hardly even thought about them anymore.
The younger Mackillop perked up at the mention of Colorado as she had the first time he’d said it.
“Well,” Marie said, “I can’t say I’m displeased with the look of you or the sound of you, Saul Solomon.”
“Thank you, Marie.” He forked more cake.
Marie smiled, then leaned closer and spoke softly. “Just so you know—if you hurt my baby I’m going to take my cake knife and slit your throat.”
Saul managed to swallow before he choked.
“And if you think that sounds like a bad day, honey,” she continued, arching her eyebrows. “Wait until you meet my mother.”
“Hell, ma’am—there are three of you?” His grin was widening by the second. He answered in an equally quiet voice, “Ranger’s honor, Mrs. Mackillop. I promise not to ravage your daughter.” Unless perhaps she asked.
“It’s Miss Mackillop. We’re all Miss Mackillops.”
“Which makes me even more careful,” Saul assured her. “I’m not in the market, if you get my drift.”
She patted his arm. “The best ones never think they are, honey.” She turned to her daughter. “Molly, he’s got the job.”
“But I haven’t accepted it yet.”
“And I haven’t had the chance to speak yet!” the outraged ringlet-wonder said. “You!”
Saul shot his gaze around, and couldn’t help the third or fourth smile of the day. A ringlet-wonder all sparked up and on the warpath.
“Do you have a social security number that actually belongs to you?” she fired.
“Yes.”
“Will you arrange for your building gear to be brought from Lubbock? Because I don’t think your hands are going to be enough.”
“Yes.” Not that he’d be here long enough to need to go and get it. Four or five days, max. Time enough to get Sally-Opal off his trail. Although he’d do what he could for the spark’s roof while he was here.
“Do you understand that if you make any attempt to harass or assault me, I will slit your throat while you sleep?”
Saul did his best to smother his next grin. “Yeah. I get that part.”
“Okay. You’re hired.”
“Thanks. I need a minute to think about it.”
“Why?” both the spark and the mother asked.
“Because it
’s my prerogative.” He handed Marie the plate, turned and walked to the doorway where he pushed the plastic blind aside and held it against the door frame.
He checked the street. He could get out now and had a feeling he ought to. These women were looking for something and a gut feeling said it might be him. They had no men in their lives that he knew of, which was worrying.
Except that he hadn’t been in a bad frame of mind since he’d stepped inside the salon. He’d been nurturing his bad mood and enjoying the resentment he felt he deserved, and suddenly it had disappeared. Must be the craziness of his situation. Or these women. Or maybe the cake.
His sat phone rang.
He groaned and gave his backpack a swift kick. The sat fell off the top.
He turned to the women, letting the plastic strips of the blind fall behind him. “Do you have decent cell coverage?”
“Yes,” they both answered.
“Postal service?”
“I run it, with Winnie,” Marie said.
Good. He could ditch the sat, buy a throwaway cell online and get it delivered—should take a day or two. “And the valley isn’t overly populated?”
“No.”
“So you don’t get a lot of people wandering in and out of town.” Unless they were lost, surely.
“Not yet,” they both said.
Excellent. No furious-father ex-detective giving his location to his pretty little sister. “Okay. I’ll take the job.” He looked at the ringlet-wonder and grinned. “Ready to haul out when you are, Miss M. Mackillop the younger.”
Chapter Four
It had taken ten minutes for Momma to remove the rags in Molly’s hair and another ten minutes to stiffen the ringlets which crowned her head and shoulders and fell over her brow. She wouldn’t dream of hurting her mother’s feelings by stuffing her corkscrews beneath a hat, but if she’d had a hat on her, she’d have done so the minute she hit the You Are Now Leaving the Happy Hamlet of Hopeless sign.
She blew three corkscrews out of her face but they were so thick they hardly bounced. Great. Not only had her mother humiliated her in front of her first employee by employing him before Molly did, her employee had what could only be termed a smirk on his face as he waited for her to load her bicycle onto the back of Momma’s pickup.
He nodded at the handlebars. “Nice tassels.”
Oh, shut up. Her first employee ever, and he was laughing at her. It certainly took the sparkle off of his dirty good looks.
“Do you want all of these on the back?” he asked, picking up the first plant pot of a dozen Momma was donating for the hacienda.
The terracotta pot had to weigh forty pounds. Add the soil, and the two-foot high yucca and it equaled one strong guy. I need that roof. “Yes, please.” She turned to tie the bike to the side rail of the pickup.
He shooed her out of the way when she jumped off the back. “I sold my car,” she said. “That’s why I’m borrowing my mother’s.” He didn’t appear interested. “Where’s your car?”
“I sold mine, too.”
“Is that why you’ve taken the job, because you need the money?” She hoped not.
“Are we still in the interview?’ he asked, a little gruffly. He flipped the tailgate up, and latched it with a slap.
A shadow crossed over Molly’s head.
She took a breath, and turned. “This is Saul Solomon,” she told Davie.
Davie had his arms crossed over the bulk of his chest and his dark eyes narrowed in a ferocious glare aimed at Molly’s employee.
Saul stepped forward, holding out his hand.
Davie ignored it. “Good afternoon,” he said, glowering.
Saul let his hand drop. “Just trying to be polite, buddy.”
“Eos es un buen comienzo,” Davie said.
Her employee paused, gauging Davie, a twist to his mouth that didn’t say he was pissed, and didn’t say he was happy. Men stuff.
“Sí,” Saul said at last. “Parece que se está.”
It was definitely a good start if he could speak to Davie in Spanish.
“Molly, get in the truck.”
“Oh, please!” Molly gaped at Davie.
“Now.”
Molly groaned, her shoulders sinking as she turned for the pickup. She yanked the door open, threw herself into the driver’s seat and slammed the door, feeling excessively pissy about being protected in this manner. She shot a narrowed gaze to the idiot men.
Davie indicated Molly with a flick of his thumb, and said something in a low tone.
Molly leaned closer to the closed window. Damn. She couldn’t hear a thing but her employee turned on a smile, full beam, and nodded. He leaned forward slightly and spoke.
Damn! She pressed the window button. “What’s going on?” she asked as the caught the tail end of Saul’s response and a word that sounded like espantado. Scared of what?
Davie grunted a laugh and when Saul held his hand out for a handshake, this time Davie took it.
There was a lot of extra-firm-grip going on. Saul had the edge on Davie, height-wise, and he was built with muscle—she could tell even with his shirt on—but she wouldn’t like to bet who’d beat the other up first if it came to a brawl. Saul would be faster, but Davie knew some tricks. They released each other’s hand and stepped apart.
“All good in the eyes, Molly,” Davie said.
“Thank you,” Molly said in a tight voice. “I could have sussed that out myself.”
“Yeah, but it might have been too late by then. Drive safely and watch the transmission. I just fixed it.”
Molly pulled a face. Men.
“You’ve got a few people looking out for you,” Saul said as he eased into the passenger seat.
“Wait until you meet my grandmother.” She put the pickup into reverse and sped out of the parking spot with a squeal of rubber, without glancing in the rearview to see what Davie thought about that.
“When do I get the pleasure?” Saul asked as his hand shot forward to grab the dash when she straightened the pickup in a tight turn.
“She’ll find you. When she’s ready—or when she needs to.” Molly shut up. It would be foolish to explain the more complicated side of Crazy Alice a few minutes after he’d met Momma Marie and Davie. She’d never get a roof on the hacienda.
“Who is he?” Saul asked, looking behind him at Davie.
“Davie Little. My bodyguard.” She chanced a quick smile. “What was all that talk about being scared of something?”
“We were discussing your beauty and my fear of women.”
Doubtful, although a small part of her liked the idea that they had been discussing her beauty. But in this get-up? Chances were slim to nothing.
She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and checked the slight stain of pink left on her skin. Kiss-proof lipstick. Blast proof, more like.
“I’m looking forward to sleeping under a roof for a few days,” Saul said, getting himself comfortable on the seat. “I’ll make a start as soon as we get there.”
“There’s actually quite a bit of roof making to be done,” she said cautiously. If he worked until sundown it still wouldn’t put a roof on any part of the hacienda’s single story.
“Think I might enjoy my stay in Hopeless after all,” he said, and something persuasive in his tone made her look at him.
Her skin prickled. He was checking her thighs. Then he ran his eyes up her body, the same appreciative look on his face. Then he reached her head and grinned.
“After all what?” she asked, shifting her bottom on the seat and concentrating on the road. She couldn’t blame him for the check-out-the-chick routine. She’d checked him out pretty thoroughly, especially when he was hefting those plant pots.
“I’m just looking forward to the rest,” he told her, folding his arms over his chest.
“Fixing a roof isn’t a rest.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Putting a few roof tiles in place beats hauling lumber.”
Uh-oh.
/> “I like your mom, by the way. Cool lady.”
“Thanks. You were a ranger?” she asked.
“Most of my adult life.”
“Why?”
“I’d been a ranger in Colorado. When I got here, it was the obvious thing to do.”
“Did you like it?”
“I didn’t mind it.”
“So why did you leave?” Like, did you suddenly decide to kill someone?
He paused a fraction too long and her already overactive brain broke into a run.
“Time was right,” he said at last.
Time would be right if he was on the run after killing some little old lady and her dog. Why those questions about cell coverage when he already had a working sat phone—not that he’d taken the call when it had rung—and what about the part where he noted that not too many people wandered in and out of town? That was downright disturbing. Plus, he was too good-looking to be real. Way better looking than Jason, and given what she knew about handsome men to date, perhaps he was on the take like the thing had been. If she didn’t need a roof... And why was he walking through the canyon? Why had he come to Hopeless, Texas’s forgotten town? Keeping himself hidden, that was why.
“Are you wanted by the law?”
“No. Are you?”
“I don’t think so.” That little issue with the laxatives and the Donaldson people wouldn’t be considered unlawful, would it? Maybe Saul the hot ranger would know.
“I did once assist someone”—she wasn’t going to name Davie in case she got him into trouble—“and helped him—I mean, this person—make arrangements to—” How could she put it? “Coerce some mean people out of town.” That wasn’t illegal, was it? She glanced at Saul for a reaction.
He studied her for a while, then lifted the side of his mouth in a smile. “Were they hurt?”
“No! But they might have spent a lot of time in restrooms.”
“Well, then, I don’t think you need to worry your curls into a tizz. Why did you do it?”
“To protect the valley.”
“From what?”
Molly chewed on her cheek. He wasn’t staying long. Maybe only an hour once he saw the hacienda. But if he did stay and build her roof, he’d go into town some days. Momma wouldn’t keep her mouth closed, she’d set him up with a slice of sponge cake and tell him all about it. She might even try to rope him in and ask him to hold hostage any Donaldson people who showed up again.