You and Only You (12 page)

The next morning she was up before daylight making breakfast. She’d been at it for almost two hours and was frying up the last of the bacon when Bud finally walked into the kitchen.

“Hey, Rachel, how much longer before we set up the sideboard?”

Despite the cold day outside, her kitchen was hot and steamy. She glanced over at the tea cart she’d been loading and then back at the stove.

“About three minutes and you can take it out. Are they waiting? Please tell me they’re not waiting.”

“No, but I can hear them moving around upstairs and they did say they were checking out early.”

Rachel reached for the tongs to take the remaining bacon strips out of the pan, and as she did, some grease popped out onto a hot burner, which caused a quick flare-up. Those flames flared back into the hot grease in her pan, and before she knew it, grease was popping and the flames were over her head.

She screamed and slammed a lid onto the pan. It smothered the fire, but not before she’d gotten a dose of the flames.

Bud was at her side in a flash, but it was after the fact. The fire was out. The bacon was burned, and Rachel’s eyebrows and bangs looked like they’d melted.

“Oh honey, are you all right?” Bud asked.

Rachel was already wrapping a handful of ice cubes in a towel to put on the burn splatters on her arms.

“I guess. Thank goodness my clothes didn’t catch fire.” She glanced at the bacon she’d already cooked. “There’s no time to cook more. What’s there will have to work.”

“That’s plenty,” Bud said. “You sit down and ice the burns. I’ll put out the food and hold court. You don’t need to come out unless you want to.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

She could hear the couples gathering out in the dining room and sighed with weary satisfaction as they began tasting and exclaiming over the food she’d sent out.

The ice helped allay the pain of the small rising blisters on her arms, and when they felt better, she got up to go wash her face. That’s when she saw her hair.

“Oh, for the freaking love of God! My eyebrows! My hair! Is Bud blind? I’m ruined!”

In a panic, she returned to the kitchen and began cleaning up the mess. As soon as the guests checked out, she was going to The Curl Up and Dye. Bud could clean up the rooms. She had a hair emergency.

* * *

Vesta and Vera were working side by side doing haircuts, while Mabel Jean was cleaning up her station from her last customer.

Ruby was on the phone at the front counter when Rachel walked in. She glanced up and smiled, motioning that she would be off in a few seconds, and then noticed the condition of Rachel’s face and hair.

“Hey, Moira, I have to go. I’ll see you at 2:00 p.m. tomorrow.”

She headed for Rachel with her hands outstretched.

“What on earth happened?”

“Oh, Sister, I had a little fire in the kitchen this morning,” Rachel said.

“Are you in pain?”

Rachel was struggling not to cry. “Some. It feels like I’ve been stung by a swarm of bees. What can you do with my face and brows?”

“Come sit,” Ruby said, leading her to a shampoo chair. She ran her fingers through Rachel’s hair, then felt her eyebrows. “I think we can fix this so it doesn’t look so shocking. Although the surface is singed, you still have brows. Do you trust me to do what I can?”

Blinking back tears, Rachel nodded, and with that, Ruby got down to work.

Rachel heard the chatter going on in the shop but was beyond caring about the gossip. She was too worried about becoming presentable again.

The bell over the door continued to jingle as people came in and went out. It was no big deal until Rachel realized one voice she was hearing belonged to LilyAnn. She was still smarting from the put-down the woman had given her at the hospital but didn’t have a leg of indignation to stand on. The truth was she did have an eye on Mike Dalton. But to be fair, she had an eye out for any eligible male, and some who were not.

* * *

Vera was manning the counter when LilyAnn walked in. They all knew about her finding Mr. Gerty’s body but figured the less they mentioned it, the happier she would be.

“Hi there, sugar. What can I do for you?”

“I would like to change my hair appointment time next week.”

“Okay, let’s see what we can do. What day?” Vera asked.

“Mama and Eddie are coming in Wednesday for Thanksgiving, so if Ruby has an opening at noon on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week, it would be helpful. They’ll be leaving sometime Friday, and I don’t want to miss my visit because I’m getting my hair done.”

“Hang on, let me check,” Vera said. She scanned Ruby’s appointment book, then looked up. “She can do you at 12:30 on Tuesday. How would that work?”

“It will be fine,” LilyAnn said. “I’ll just take my lunch hour thirty minutes later. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, sugar. We’ll still see you this Friday, right?”

Lily nodded.

“Okay then. So, you take care, okay?”

Lily nodded and left, grateful they hadn’t mentioned Mr. Gerty. Work was a madhouse today. Everyone who came in wanted to talk about it.

But she wasn’t the only one relieved to have escaped confrontation. Rachel breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Lily leave.

“Let’s move over to my styling chair and see what we can do,” Ruby said, as she wrapped a clean towel around Rachel’s head.

Rachel did so with alacrity, hoping Ruby could perform, at the least, a small miracle. Between her recent accident and now this, she was wondering if God was trying to tell her to change her ways. She certainly hoped not. She liked her ways just fine the way they were.

She clenched her jaw as Ruby picked up her scissors and spun the chair around so Rachel could no longer see what was happening. At that point, like the wreck and the fire, it was out of her hands.

* * *

T. J. Lachlan had finally finished painting the interior of the house and was moving on to exterior repairs. He’d been up in the attic often enough to know there was a leak in the roof, and he had a general idea of where it was. He’d climbed up on the roof an hour earlier, found the leak, and was in the process of patching it when he heard a noise down below. He looked over his shoulder just as the top rungs of the ladder began sliding sideways and then disappeared from sight. He heard a loud thud as the ladder hit the ground.

“What the fuck!” he yelled, and eased back to the edge of the roof just in time to see a large bull making an exit up the drive.

He didn’t know where the bull had come from, but the puzzle was moot. The bigger question was: How was he going to get down? The house was two-story. The roof was steep. There was a chimney, but he was no Santa-fucking-Claus. He sat down and then took out his cell phone.

This was embarrassing as hell, but he was never going to get down without help. He could call 911, but if he did, everyone in town would know. It was hard to maintain a macho attitude when you were the joke of the week. The only local phone number he had on speed dial was The Curl Up and Dye. Even if he called them, he was wondering how they could help.

A cold gust of wind blew up the back of his jacket, which reminded him that spending the night on the roof was out of the question.

“The Curl Up and Dye it is,” T. J. muttered, and started dialing on his phone.

* * *

Ruby turned off the blow-dryer, then picked up a teasing comb and a can of hair spray, eyeing what she’d just done for Rachel’s hair.

“Just a few more minutes and we’ll be done,” Ruby said.

“Is it bad?” Rachel asked.

“No!” Ruby said. “Not at all! You’ll see.”

She worked quickly, giving Rachel’s hair a liberal dose of hair spray before she turned the chair around.

“So what do you think?” Ruby asked.

Rachel couldn’t believe it. She looked normal. A little different, but normal.

“How did you do that?” she asked, feathering the bangs across her forehead.

“You have more bangs than you did before. See, I pulled some more of your hair forward from the crown to cover what burned off. As for your eyebrows, I clipped the singed part off and reshaped them a little. It will all grow back, so don’t think you have to live with this look forever.”

Rachel was beaming. “You are a freaking genius,” she cried.

“I like to think so,” Ruby said as they went to the counter to pay.

The phone began to ring as Rachel was writing out a check.

“Hang on a second, Rachel, okay?”

Rachel nodded.

Ruby smiled her thanks as she answered the phone. “The Curl Up and Dye. This is Ruby.”

“Uh… Hey, Ruby, this is T. J. Lachlan. Do you remember me?”

“Sure, I remember you, T. J. What’s up? Do you want to make an appointment?”

“Not exactly. I have a problem, and your phone number is the only local number I had on speed dial.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Ruby asked.

T. J. sighed. “I’m embarrassed to say that I need help. I am stranded on the roof of my house.”

Ruby’s eyes lit up. “Stranded on the roof of your house? How did that happen?”

“I was patching a leak when someone’s stupid bull got into my yard and knocked the ladder over. The bull’s gone and I’m stuck. Do you know anyone in the area who could come out here?”

“I sure do. We’ll find someone to get you right down. Hang on while I get the phone book to look up some names, okay?”

Rachel put a hand on Ruby’s arm as she slid her check across the counter.

“What happened to T. J.?” she whispered.

Ruby was surprised Rachel knew him. “He’s stranded on the roof of his house. Someone’s bull got in his yard and knocked down the ladder. He needs someone to put it back up. He lives out at the old Bissell place.”

“I can go,” Rachel said.

Ruby arched an eyebrow. Everyone knew Rachel’s propensity for chasing men.

“Well…”

“No, you don’t understand,” Rachel said. “The day I had the wreck he stopped and drove me to the ER. This is just my chance to return a favor.”

“Oh! Well, my goodness, I didn’t know that, but it definitely makes sense. If you’re sure, I’ll tell him you’re on the way.”

“I’m sure,” Rachel said. “And thanks again for making me presentable.”

Ruby smiled. “My pleasure,” she said. “You take care now.”

Rachel waved as she left, but she was already thinking about Lachlan and the possibilities that could ensue.

Chapter 8

Rachel’s pulse was racing as she drove out of town toward the Bissell house. She glanced in the rearview mirror a couple of times to reassure herself she was presentable enough for this little foray, and then shivered. It had been a while, four long years to be exact, since she’d had something besides Bud’s fumbling excuse for romance. If he hadn’t been so well-to-do, she would never have settled for the sixty seconds of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sex.

She was less than a quarter of a mile from her destination when her cell phone rang. When she saw it was from Bud, she rolled her eyes. Since she’d wrecked her car, she was driving his, which meant he was stuck at home. So should she answer and tell him the truth about what she was doing, or let it go to voice mail? Even if she let it go, her destination was no secret because the ladies at The Curl Up and Dye knew where she was going, and if they knew, then so would everyone else, which made the decision for her. She reached for her phone.

“Hello, Bud. What’s going on?”

“I was just checking on you, honey. Are you still in much pain? Was Ruby able to fix your hair?”

“It isn’t really pain. It feels more like a whole lot of beestings on my skin. And yes, my hair looks fine. She even managed to trim my eyebrows and keep me from looking like a madwoman.”

“So, are you on your way home?”

“Not yet. I was just leaving the shop when Ruby got a phone call from Gene Bissell’s nephew. Remember, he’s the man who stopped at the wreck and took me to the ER.”

“Oh yeah, so what about him?”

Rachel giggled, making it seem like a big joke on T. J.

“It’s the funniest thing. He was calling her for help because their number was the only local number he had on speed dial. Said he was fixing a leak on the roof when someone’s bull got in his yard and knocked down the ladder. He’s stranded on top of the house, and it’s that old two-story. Can you imagine? I’d be hanging on to the chimney with both hands.”

Bud chuckled as Rachel continued her tale.

“So…seeing as how he stopped to help me when you were out of town, I offered to drive out and rescue him.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Bud…honey…are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here. So you’re on your way to his house?”

“Bud Goodhope! Are you watching TV? I swear to my time, I would appreciate it if you would pay attention when I’m talking to you. I already said I’m on my way out there. So listen up, ’cause I’m not gonna repeat myself again. As soon as I put the ladder back up so he can get down, I’m coming home.”

Bud was already backpedaling. He’d made her mad, and the worst thing that ever happened at their house was when Rachel got mad at him.

“Don’t get yourself in a huff. I was just worrying about you, you know. You’re still a little sore from the wreck, and then you went and burned yourself today. I just didn’t want you straining anything.”

She snorted derisively.

“You weren’t all that worried about my well-being this morning when I got my ass out of bed at 4:00 a.m. to go make breakfast for our guests. And you were suspiciously absent for the next two hours, which tells me you went back to bed. You did, didn’t you? So, you’re worried about my welfare only when it suits you. Thank you so much for your concern. I will be home soon, and if I am in any way delayed, rest assured I will be calling your ass, despite the fact that you will not be able to help me now, any more than you were able to help me the day I had the wreck, because I am driving our only car.”

She hung up before he could respond.

“That’ll give him something to think about,” she muttered, then realized she was at the turnoff, tapped the brakes, and took the turn.