Tumbleweed Weddings (31 page)

Read Tumbleweed Weddings Online

Authors: Donna Robinson

BOOK: Tumbleweed Weddings
2.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Sitting at the desk, he took a few moments to pray, which made him feel better. He wasn’t really alone. The Lord knew what was going on in his life, and He had a plan. Murray would just have to wait for it.

He stood and stretched. Time for another old movie.

Tears formed in Tonya’s eyes. Poe sounded so sad. In the back of her mind the thought niggled that perhaps this guy
was
a predator, trying to pluck at her heartstrings with his talk of loneliness. The next step would be for him to invite her to meet him in some dark alley.

She grimaced.

On the other hand, two could play this game. With a determined mindset, she began typing.

A few minutes later, Mom entered the room. “Are you still at the computer, Tonya?”

“I’m writing a letter to Poe.”

“I figured that.” Mom stood behind Tonya as she continued typing. “What does LOL mean?”

Tonya grinned. “You’re so computer illiterate, Mom. It’s an abbreviation that means ‘laughing out loud’ or, as some people say, ‘lots of laughs.’ You write it at the end of a sentence when you’re joking. Or you could write JK instead. That means ‘just kidding.’ ”

“Oh.” Mom nodded. “Kind of like the old ‘ha!’ that Grandma writes in her letters.”

“Exactly.” The keyboard buttons clicked as Tonya continued her sentence.

Mom leaned over her. “What does BTW mean?”

“By the way.” Tonya stopped typing. She had written her opening comments to Poe and wanted to say something more personal, but she didn’t want her mother to read it. “Do you mind, Mom? I can’t concentrate when you’re reading over my shoulder.”

“I was on my way to bed.” Mom bent to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “It’s almost eleven, and you have to get up early for work tomorrow morning.”

“I know. And don’t worry, I won’t be up late. Since it’s been snowing, I plan to get up a half hour earlier tomorrow morning and take my time driving to work. I sure don’t want Murray to give me a ticket.”

“Good for you.” Mom walked to the door. “Good night.”

“Night, Mom.” Tonya turned back to the computer, ready to pour out her heart to Poetry Lover Guy.

Chapter 9

O
n Friday morning, Tonya watched Crystal Larsen walk out of the Beauty Spot, sporting her new hair color. The blond highlights looked great on Crystal, and Tonya silently congratulated herself on her good fashion advice.

“This morning’s been so busy.” With a broom, Aggie swept hair into a dustpan. “But I’m glad. Seems like we have more customers when the snow stops.” She leaned on the broom handle. “You sure have been quiet today, Tonya.”

“I’ve been thinking about Poe.”

“Who else?” Aggie laughed. “The whole town knows about that secret admirer of yours. So, what did he write last night?”

“I feel so sorry for him. He’s lonely.”

“Aren’t we all?” Aggie plopped down in the beautician chair, and her brown eyes turned serious. “You know who really helps curb my loneliness?” She glanced toward the door, as if checking to make sure no customers were entering.

Aggie, lonely?
Tonya raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Bruce MacKinnon, that’s who.” With a sigh, Aggie brushed her fingers against her beehive hairdo, tinted purple this week. “I’ve been attracted to that man ever since his wife died, and we’re good friends. I call him a lot, and sometimes he calls me. He’s such a good listener. When we’re talking together, my loneliness just melts away like butter in the hot sun.” She paused. “But he never pays me no mind in a romantic way. I’m just his good friend—like a sister.” Another sigh escaped her tangerine-painted lips.

Tonya already knew Aggie was smitten with Bruce. Last summer Callie had enlightened her about Aggie’s interest, and most of the town knew Aggie pestered the man.

The bell jingled above the door, and they both turned as Murray Twichell walked in.

Tonya frowned.
What’s he doing here?

Aggie rose from her chair. “Hey there, Murray. Did Clint close the barbershop today?”

“Not that I know of.” Murray hung his coat on a hook by the door. “I’m a repeat customer. I liked the way Tonya cut my hair last month, so I thought I’d come back.”

“Good thing you didn’t preface it with a speeding ticket.” Aggie cackled at her own joke. “But you’re right on, Murray. Tonya’s the best in the business.”

Tonya didn’t know whether to thank Aggie for the compliment or yell at her for bringing up her shortcomings. She pulled the cape from her chair and waited as Murray took a seat. As she pumped up the chair with her foot, she noticed that he wasn’t wearing any aftershave. Instead he smelled clean, like soap.

Her eyes met his in the mirror. “So you want the same cut I gave you last time?”

Murray smiled. “That would be great, Tonya. You’re the best, just like Aggie said.”

Why is he being so nice?

As Tonya spritzed his hair with water, Aggie sat down on the other chair. “How’s your mother, sugar?” The older woman leaned toward him. “Is the Parkinson’s getting any worse?”

Murray shrugged. “She’s about the same. She has that jumpy type of Parkinson’s, and sometimes she’s more nervous than at other times.”

Picking up her shears, Tonya only half-listened as Aggie and Murray conversed about Priscilla Twichell’s medications, the nursing home in Douglas, and the snowy weather. Tonya’s thoughts kept drifting to Poe. What was he doing right now? What did he look like? She pictured him as a tall, handsome man—like Cary Grant. In her mind Tonya reviewed Poe’s e-mails, which she’d read so many times she had them memorized. What had he thought about her comments last night?

Aggie sat back in her chair. “Thanks for updating me on your mother, Murray. Hope I’m not being too nosy. Sometimes Bruce says I’m just a mite too curious.”

Tonya’s attention shot back to the conversation. “We have to get you and Bruce together, Aggie.”

Frowning, Aggie folded her arms. “I told you about that in confidence, Tonya Brandt.”

Murray grinned. “About you and Bruce? Come on, Aggie, the entire town knows you like him.” He glanced at Tonya in the mirror. “You’re right. It’s time those two got together.”

“Well I never!” Aggie sputtered. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“But Aggie …” Tonya clipped the hair around Murray’s right ear. “Don’t you want to be more than good friends?”

“Hey, I could talk to Bruce.” Murray raised his eyebrows. “Maybe he just needs a push in the right direction.”

“Murray’s right, Aggie. Bruce is very laid-back. You two will be friends forever—and friends only—if someone doesn’t nudge him toward you.”

Aggie’s chubby face flushed. “But, you see … it’s just that …” Her bracelets clinked together as she raised her hands, then dropped them. “I don’t want him to think I’m
pushy
or anything.”

Murray grinned, and Tonya felt his shoulders shake in silent laughter. Biting her lower lip, Tonya tried to hide her own smile and concentrate on the haircut.

Aggie, oblivious to their amusement, paced behind Tonya. “What if Bruce don’t want a closer friendship? And if I push him—why, he might never speak to me again!”

Tonya shook her head. “He probably knows how you feel already. If he’s truly your friend, he’s not going to suddenly hate you if you want to get closer.”

“I agree with Tonya.” Murray’s eyes followed the pacing Aggie in the mirror. “If you want me to, I’ll put a bug in his ear. I see him most mornings at the Trailblazer Café. On the other hand, if you’re dead set against it …” He shrugged.

Twisting her hands, Aggie stopped and threw a desperate look at Tonya.

“Go for it, Aggie!” Tonya grinned. “This might be the chance of a lifetime.”

“Oh okay.” She pursed her orange lips. “Just promise me, Murray, that you’ll talk to him in private. I don’t want the whole place to know I’m pining after him.”

“You have my word.”

Tonya unfastened the cape and pulled it from Murray’s neck. “All finished.”

“I’ll meet you up at the front, Murray.” Aggie waddled to the cash register. “Do you want to buy any other products? Shampoo? Conditioner?” She seemed ready to dismiss Bruce as a topic of conversation.

He stood. “No thanks.” Smiling at Tonya, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “Thanks for the great job, Tonya.”

Grabbing a broom, she nodded. She had left the top a little longer, and it made him look good. Not handsome, of course—Murray would never be handsome.

After he left the shop, Tonya gazed at Murray’s hair in the dustpan before she threw it in the trash. “You know, Aggie, I always thought Murray’s hair was red, but it’s really auburn. Almost brown.”

“Growing darker with his age, I reckon. That kid used to be a carrottop, just like his mother. He’s the spitting image of Priscilla.” Aggie sighed as she took a seat in the other chair. “I feel so sorry for her with that Parkinson’s. When I moved to Fort Lob, she was the first person who befriended me in this town. She prayed with me and helped me through some hard trials.”

Tonya opened the closet door to put the broom away. “Did you have problems when you lived in Texas, Aggie?”

“Oh, hon, you don’t want to know. Suffice it to say, I was running from a bad situation.” She sighed. “But Priscilla—bless her heart. She soon had her own share of troubles, and I was comforting
her.”

“I remember when Murray’s dad died.”

“That ain’t the half of it, sugar! So many people died in their family, one right after the other.” Aggie counted off on her fingers. “Her father, his mother, her sister, her mother, his uncle—why, I believe we were going to a funeral for the Twichell family every month there for a while.”

“How sad!” Tonya sank down on the other chair. “And then Murray’s dad died, too.”

“Yeah, a few years after all them other relatives died. Anson was quite a bit older than Priscilla, you know.”

“I always liked Mrs. Twichell.” Tonya reached back in her memory. “Sometimes Callie and I played at Murray’s house, and Mrs. Twichell always had cookies for us. She was so nice to me, especially when Murray and Callie ignored me. I was a little pest to them since I was three years younger.”

Aggie smiled. “And now you kids are all grown-up.” She glanced out the big plate-glass windows. “It’s snowing again. Why don’t you hightail it home, Tonya? We probably won’t have much business between now and five.”

“Thanks, Aggie.” Tonya stood. “I want to see if Poe wrote to me, and the sooner the better.”

Wow
. Murray’s jaw dropped as he read the e-mail. It worked! He had written a few sentences about his loneliness, and Tonya peeled back her heart for three pages.

He reread the lines that caught him off guard.

My sisters, Melissa and Callie, are both married, and Molly is getting married in a few weeks. I’m the only single sister now, with no prospect for a husband on the horizon. Sometimes I worry that I’ll never get married. Sure, I can get a date in a heartbeat, but of all the guys I know, I can’t find a kindred spirit—someone who wants to know the real me, someone who will love me for who I am
.

Murray sat back. Strange she should mention the very thing he wanted to do—get to know the real Tonya underneath all that outward beauty.

But Tonya never getting married? That was crazy.

He highlighted that paragraph in his reply.

Tonya, you’re so beautiful. Why do you think you’ll never marry? There are probably a thousand guys out there who would love to marry you
.

His fingers paused above the keys. Did that include him? Would he love to marry Tonya Brandt, the spoiled baby of the Brandt family?

He deleted the word
thousand
and replaced it with
dozen
.

There are probably a dozen guys out there who would love to marry you
.

He nodded. Now if she had money and fame, a thousand guys might be standing on her doorstep.

With a grin, he finished the letter and shut down his computer. He had to get up early tomorrow. It was back to work for the weekend, and he had to be in Cheyenne at seven in the morning. At least he had Monday off.

His twenty-seventh birthday.

Other books

Something Blue by Ella James
Mated To The Devil by Eve Langlais
British Voices by William Sheehan
The Sixty-Eight Rooms by Marianne Malone
Lust Eternal by Sabrina York
Must Love Kilts by Allie MacKay
Pieces of Hate by Ray Garton
Pebble in the Sky by Isaac Asimov
Takeover by Viguerie, Richard A.