Читать книгу Gambling On a Heart - Sara Walter Ellwood - Страница 9

Chapter 4

Tracy smiled at Henrietta Parker as she shuffled across the wood floor toward the salon sink, her cane making a jaunty tap-tap with each step. Although she was now stoop-shouldered and aged ninety-one, Henrietta was still famous around town for being a pilot during World War II. And up until six years ago, she’d flown her crop duster. Only her eldest son’s taking the engine out of the old thing grounded her.

Henrietta pointed her cane at Tracy as she sat in the chair in front of the sink. “Haven’t I told you a thousand times to get rid of those granny clothes?”

As Tracy took the old woman’s cane and leaned it against the wall, she looked down at her favorite peasant blouse and long denim skirt. “I happen to like this outfit, Grandma.”

Henrietta narrowed her sharp green eyes on her and shook her head. “Yeah, well, it makes you look like you’re wearing a gunnysack. I don’t get you, Tracy Caroline. There are women out there who starve themselves half to death to look like you. And make big money for their efforts.” She pointed a knobby finger at her. “Just the other night I was watching a television show about girls who want to be models and what they have to do to stay skinny.” She looked Tracy up and down and frowned again. “How the hell do you expect to catch a husband dressed like that?”

Tracy sighed and helped the woman lean back into the sink. “I’m not looking for a husband. I had one, remember?”

With a snort, Henrietta settled her head back. “And you did the right thing by dumping him. Now, you need a new one. That great-grandson of mine needs a steady hand. Jake is too much like his daddy. God rest Allan’s soul, but he was the poorest excuse for a father put on God’s green Earth.”

Tracy sprayed the thin white hair with warm water. “Now, Grandma.”

She turned in her seat and shook a finger at Tracy again. “Don’t you ‘now, Grandma’ me. It’s the gospel truth. If my son had been any kind of man, he wouldn’t’ve beat his boys, and they may have turned out half-way decent.”

Tracy grabbed a towel as water dripped from the woman’s hair onto her embroidered Western shirt. She wasn’t about to get into an argument about Allan Parker’s parenting skills or those of his son, Jake. She grabbed a drape and put it around her ex-grandmother-in-law. “Jake isn’t like Allan, and you know it.”

Henrietta harrumphed and leaned back against the lip of the sink. “Maybe not, but it still burns my ass that I’ve reached this age, and instead of my grandsons taking care of me, I’m still taking care of them.”

Tracy lathered Henrietta’s hair and worked her fingers through the thin strands to massage four days worth of hairspray off the woman’s scalp. Henrietta came in to the shop twice a week, Monday and Thursday for a wash and set and trusted Aqua Net and a sleeping cap to keep it looking good between those days. “Now, what did Brent do?”

“Well, let me tell you.” She huffed and folded her hands over the drape. “He’s been laid-off since the tire factory packed up and moved to China and has been freeloading off me or his mother ever since. But last week, he shows up with a brand, spanking new Silverado. I can’t even get him to help me buy the grub he shoves into that big mouth of his, but he has money to get himself a fancy pickup truck.” The many wrinkles around her mouth pulled down as she scowled. “Hell, what does he need a truck for? All he does is sit on my couch eating my food and watching my television set.”

Tracy furrowed her brow. “Did he get another job?”

Henrietta threw up her arms. “Hell, no! Although he’s been riding along with Jake in that truck driving gig he’s got going, but he ain’t makin’ any money at it. Or so he says.”

Tracy rinsed Henrietta’s hair and patted the excess water out of it. “Did Sandy buy the truck for him?”

Tracy didn’t care what her ex-mother-in-law did, but she sensed Henrietta needed to vent her frustration.

The old woman stood, and Tracy helped her shuffle across the floor and settle into the seat at the workstation. Henrietta waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “You know Sandy doesn’t have any money to buy a truck like that.” She wrinkled her nose in disdain. “She may have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, but that was taken away when that son-of-a-bitch John Blackwell disowned her for marrying my Allan.”

Tracy retrieved a comb and picked out the knots in Henrietta’s thin hair. Swallowing, she watched the woman’s reflection in the mirror above the counter. “You’re not giving him money, are you?”

Henrietta’s green eyes narrowed again. “No. And before you go asking ’bout my savings. No one but my oldest boy, Charles, has access to ’em. I made sure my clock hadn’t been cleaned, the moment Brent showed up with that truck.” The old woman chuckled. “Hell, I know better than letting either one of those grandsons of mine know how much damn money I have getting moldy over there in the Cattlemen’s Bank and Trust.”

Tracy smiled. Henrietta didn’t get rich on her crop dusting service by not being a shrewd businesswoman. “Are you coming to Bobby’s game Wednesday?”

“Wish I could. But that’s my poker night with the Cartwright sisters. Those two old biddies swindled me out of five bucks last week and I want it back. Plus interest.”

Tracy laughed and reached for the styling gel. Zack’s great-aunts were in their eighties and two of the sweetest old ladies she’d ever met, and she couldn’t imagine the spinster twins swindling anyone. “So, they take after the famed Cole Cartwright, do they?”

Henrietta tsked. “Hardly. Oh, they like to think they take after their great-granddaddy. But neither of them can beat me when I’m in my game.”

Tracy applied styling gel to Henrietta’s hair. The old woman watched the action through the reflection in the mirror for a few moments. “So, when are you gonna get yourself some help around this place? You don’t need to be doin’ hair now that you inherited all that money from your granddaddy.”

With a shrug, Tracy reached for the tray of rollers under a cabinet. “I like what I do. Sure, I may not need the money, but I can’t imagine not working.”

“No one said you had to give up working, but if you hired another girl to work here, you’d have more time to do other things. Like go back to school. Get the education that no-good grandson of mine denied you of.”

Tracy sectioned Henrietta’s thin hair and then rolled the wisps onto the rollers. She’d love to have more time to spend with Bobby, but not being here every day for the women who depended on her?

Go back to school? She hadn’t even considered the possibility before Winnie Cartwright mentioned it last week, then her Aunt Janet said the same thing at the wedding. Maybe now she should think about getting her degree. But in what? Going to medical school seemed as much a pipe dream as it always had.

Tracy smiled, but it was slippery and soon slid off her face. “I’m beginning to think nobody wants me anymore. A few other people said the same thing to me.”

Henrietta turned and looked over her shoulder at Tracy. “You know better. You’re ten times better at doin’ hair than Sandy Parker ever was. But now, you could go to school. Become a doctor like you always wanted. Lord knows you’ve got the smarts for it. Besides, you’ve always said, if you could, you’d go back to school. Now’s your chance.”

Tracy shook her head and looked down into the tray of curlers. She gripped the comb in her left hand until her fingers hurt. “I have Bobby to consider.”

“True. But think about how much your going to school will mean to him. Right now, all he wants to do is play football because that’s what Jake’s pounding in his head. The boy needs an education if he’s ever gonna amount to anything.”

Her new sister-in-law had been a drug addict, a teenage runaway and ended up serving a year in prison for a crime she’d been duped into committing, and now, she was happily married, pregnant and adopting a teenage daughter. But she was still taking classes at the local college.

Danm, was that envy she felt? She licked her lips and rolled the last curler into Henrietta’s white hair, suddenly anxious to get her out of the shop. “I’m too old to go back to school.”

“Poppycock. You’re what? Thirty-two? If I was your age, livin’ in today’s world, I’d be doing everything I could to be a pilot in the Air Force. Maybe even join NASA. Can’t you see me flyin’ one of those fancy Space Shuttles?” She laughed, but her misty green eyes betrayed more than a wistful dream as she stared at their reflections in the mirror. “You’re too young with too many opportunities to just give up on your dreams, Tracy Caroline.”

* * * *

Zack read the report and looked up at the Texas and Southwestern Cattle Raisers Association agent standing in front of his desk. “Not a single clue.”

Agent Herbert Milroy caressed his graying mustache. “Nope. Damned frustrating, is what it is. But I haven’t seen a rustler yet in my twenty years of being a TSCRA agent that didn’t suffer the same disease: cockiness.”

Tossing the sheet of paper onto the jumble of traffic tickets and deputy reports covering his desk, Zack leaned back in his chair and tried to ignore the ache springing up in his temples. “I sure as hell hope so. The Westcotts were already on the verge of bankruptcy. Losing forty-three prime steers didn’t help them. And I’d hate for someone else as bad off to be hit next.”

Milroy rubbed his hand across his nose and sat in the chair in front of the desk. He glanced at his hands before looking up at Zack, and cleared his throat. “I need to talk to the owners of Butterfly Springs Cattle Company.”

Zack straightened in his chair. “They’re on their honeymoon and left Tracy Parker in charge. If you need anything, she’s the one to ask.”

The agent seemed to consider his words before nodding. “Alright. I’ll do this your way. I suppose Quinn and that sassy filly he married deserve to have a little peace after what happened at the Independence Day Charity Ball.”

Herb Milroy was a local man and had been at the Gambler’s Lake Country Club for the annual shindig when Leon Ferguson had held Charli and Dylan at gunpoint. Zack still remembered the adrenaline rush when he’d pulled the trigger of his Glock from twenty yards away. He hadn’t shot a man since his last tour in Afghanistan over two years ago. Although he hadn’t wanted to kill Ferguson and had aimed for his shoulder, he now wished he’d saved the state of Texas and himself the trouble of wanting to try him for his various crimes. The businessman’s lawyers were making Zack’s life a living hell. The thought of the meeting with the DA earlier that afternoon weighed on him, threatening to drag him under.

The slight ache in his temples turned into a bonafide throb.

“Thanks, I know Charli and Dylan will appreciate it.” Zack focused on the puzzle currently in front of him and stood. “Want some coffee?”

With a wrinkle in his bushy brows, Herb glanced at the old, stained coffeemaker in the corner. “How old is it?”

Zack shrugged and poured himself a cup of the brew. It smelled as strong as it looked. One step up from road tar. “I made it at lunchtime.” As he stirred four heaping spoons of sugar into the cup, he looked over his shoulder at Herb and caught his grimace. With a chuckle, Zack turned. “That was only four hours ago.”

“Thanks. But no thanks,” Herb muttered. “My ulcer hurts just thinking about drinking that swill. Do you know where I could find Miz Parker?”

Zack sat in his chair again and sipped from the cup Mandy had given to him for Father’s Day last year. The old coffee hit his empty stomach with an unpleasant thud. Maybe he shouldn’t drink the stuff. “She’s probably at her hair salon. I’ll follow you over there.”

Or was the fluttery feeling from the prospect of seeing Tracy?

* * * *

Tracy pushed her glasses up her nose and stared at the list of classes she’d have to take to complete her bachelor’s degree. If she could go full-time, she’d be done in three semesters. But since she couldn’t quit her life and devote every second to studying, it would take her at least five.

She sighed and clicked the exit icon at the corner of the University of Texas at Austin website. It was foolish to entertain the idea of going to medical school. She’d be forty before she’d graduate.

With a sniff, she opened her email, deleting junk mail and spam until she landed on a subject line that read, In response to your ad.

Tracy leaned back in her chair. Was it possible someone had already replied to her advertisement she’d placed that morning on the local paper’s website after Henrietta had left? She clicked it open and read the note.

Hi, not sure if you remember me. I’m Melissa Blackwell. I’m back in Colton to take care of Buck, my dad, who recently was diagnosed with lung cancer. Anyway, I saw your ad this morning and would love to meet with you to talk about the job. I worked for six years in LA at LaSalle’s. I’ve attached a copy of my resume.

I’ll be waiting to hear from you.

Melissa Blackwell

Tracy didn’t remember Melissa, but she knew who she was. Melissa and her identical twin sister had lived in Los Angeles with their mother since they were little. Their father, Buck Blackwell, owned the Broken B Ranch across the road from Butterfly and Oak Springs.

As she opened the resume, the bell above the front door twinkled its cheery warning that someone entered the shop. No other customers were scheduled. She glanced at the clock on her computer and frowned.

“Tracy?” Zack’s voice sounded from the front reception area. “Are you here?”

She gasped, pulled the glasses from her face and reached up to touch her hair. Messy strands stuck out of the butterfly clip. She hurriedly took it out, twisted her hair, and put the clip back in, calling, “I’m here. I’ll be out in a minute.”

After she jumped from her chair, she rushed into the small bathroom and peered into the mirror above the pedestal sink. Her makeup had long ago disappeared and the mascara had smudged under her eyes. She rubbed at the marks and sighed.

Figures, he’d show up when I look my absolutely worst after a day of making others look beautiful.

Giving up, she headed out to the front of the converted Victorian to the front room. Zack bracketed his waist above his service belt and stood next an older man she recognized as Herb Milroy.

Zack turned as she entered the room, and removed his hat. He stared at her with those new-denim blue eyes for a moment as if he wondered why he was there. “Tracy, I think you know Agent Milroy.”

Tracy rounded the antique desk she used as a reception counter. Holding out her hand, she smiled. “Herb, it’s been a long time.”

Herb shook her hand. “Ma’am, I’m hoping you can answer some questions regarding the cattle your brother and his wife lost the other night.”

She glanced at Zack, who was busy looking everywhere but at her. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

One side of Herb’s lips twitched up, and he took out a notepad. “What can you tell us about the cattle that were stolen?”

Tracy folded her hands and shrugged. “According to Tom Miller there were forty-five taken. Ah...I’m not sure what you want me to tell you.”

Zack stopped avoiding her and met her gaze. “How long were they in that pasture?”

Sweat gathered at the back of her neck and she rubbed it. “They were moved over into the pasture about two weeks ago. I think they were going to be rounded up after Dylan and Charli come back from their honeymoon, and put into the feedlot.”

“What can you tell us about their brands?” Herb looked up from his pad.

“They are the last of the cattle that were owned by Leon. Their brands are the old oak leaf with an F inside. The Oak Springs brand, rather than the B bar OS brand.”

“Thanks, Miz.” Herb put his notebook away and bobbed his head. “That gives us something to work on. Have a good day.”

“You, too. Tell Ellie hello from me,” she said, referring to his wife.

“Will do.” Herb smiled as he settled his hat onto his head. “See you tomorrow, Sheriff.”

Tracy expected Zack to follow Herb out the door, but he hung back. After the door closed, Zack looked down and turned his hat in his hands. “Have you talked to Dylan and Charli?”

“I got a text from Charli letting me know they arrived in Hawaii okay. But if you’re asking if they know about the cattle, the answer is no.”

He nodded and met her gaze. “Are you okay?” Quickly, he added, “I mean sometimes when a theft happens so close to home, it can shake you up some. Especially with everything else that’s gone on with your family.”

She shrugged and rubbed her arms. “I’m okay. It isn’t like my house was broken into. But I can see how something like this could bother a person.”

When he put his hat on, getting ready to leave, Tracy was both glad and disappointed. Without meaning to say anything at all, she said, “I got an interesting email this morning.”

Zack puckered his brow in askance.

“It was from Melissa Blackwell. She’s back in town.”

He rubbed the side of his face in thought. His beard was coming in as a dark shadow on his angular jaw. She could imagine the sinful sensations it could cause on her skin in certain forbidden places.

She shivered as a blush heated her neck. Don’t even go there.

“You heard about Buck?” he asked.

“Yeah, apparently she’s here to take care of him. She answered the ad I placed this morning for help.”

He swung his sharp blue eyes to hers. “You’re looking to hire someone?”

She moved behind the desk and pretended to rearrange her pens and pencils in the lace-covered jar in which she kept them. “I’m thinking about it.”

“So, you’re expanding. That’s good.”

Tracy shook her head. “Not really.” A short snort of a laugh escaped her lips. She had to be crazy for even thinking this, let alone telling Zack, but something deep down needed his approval, or maybe it was his acceptance. “I’m going back to school to finish my degree.”

He raised a brow, and his lips turned up at the corners. It wasn’t much of a smile, but it made Tracy’s heart soar. “Good for you. Well, I gotta go and pick up Mandy from daycare.”

Still recovering from the thrill he’d given her, Tracy swallowed hard and nodded. “Have a good night.”

At the door, he looked over his shoulder at her and tipped his hat. “You, too. See you around.”

For a long time after he left, Tracy stood there in the reception area. What the hell had just happened? When had she actually decided to go back to school?

She laughed aloud and shook her head. “I guess I decided two minutes ago.”

Damn. She rushed to her office and clicked on the website for the university. She’d better get registered.