that man who just left, he’s a lawyer, too?”
“That’s right. He’s Jenny’s new lawyer.”
“Is he a good lawyer?”
“Yes. I’m sure he is.”
“What’s a lawyer, anyway? And how come, if Jenny’s got one, I don’t?”
Danielle glanced at the clock. “We’ll have to talk about that later. Right now, we need to get going.”
To the Whitehorn Salon, Lynn thought with a considerable degree of dread. “Danielle, I don’t know about this…”
“I do. Did you bring the red dress?”
“Danielle. I really don’t think—”
“Come on. Just answer me. Did you bring the dress?”
Lynn was a little embarrassed about that dress. She’d bought it on a shopping trip to Billings just two weeks before, a shopping trip where she’d intended only to replace a few of the practical skirts and blouses that were now three sizes too large. She hadn’t meant to buy a dress like that. It had cost too much and it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d ever actually wear, anyway.
“Lynn. The dress? Did you bring it?”
“Yes. I brought it.”
“And those red shoes, too?”
Lynn huffed out a breath. The shoes had two-inch heels. Lynn was five-nine in stocking feet. She always wore flats. What in the world had possessed her to buy a pair shoes that would only make her look even taller?
“The shoes, Lynn?” Danielle asked for the second time with clearly diminishing patience.
“Yes, all right, I brought the shoes, too.”
“Good. Get ’em and let’s go. You can ride with me and Sara.”
“I can take my own—”
Danielle grunted. “No way. You’ve got that rabbity look around the eyes. You might just drive on home instead of where I’m taking you.”
“Danielle…”
“Stop arguing. You’re coming with us and you can pick up your Blazer later.”
“But Danielle. To the beauty salon?”
“Yes. To the beauty salon. You’ve lost, what? Twenty-five pounds?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“You should be proud of yourself.”
“I am proud of myself.”
“Good. Because you look great. And for your birthday, I intend to make sure we put the finishing touches on your transformation.”
“I just don’t know about this.”
“Get that dress and those shoes and let’s go.”
Lynn was still trying to protest when Danielle pushed her into the padded stylist’s chair and the salon’s owner, Gracie Donahue, whisked a big purple hairdresser’s cape around her neck.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. This is all just too much….”
“It is not,” said Gracie’s daughter, Kim, with whom Lynn had gone to school—and who was now in town on a visit from San Francisco, where she worked in a very exclusive salon. “I’m in on this, too. And I am the best at what I do. You’re going to look fabulous when we’re through. All the cowboys for miles around will fall in love with you.”
Lynn stared at her own reflection in the mirror. No one to fall in love with there. True, her clean-scrubbed face was slimmer than it used to be. She actually had cheekbones now. But she still looked as ordinary as a loaf of white bread. Also, right at the moment, her brow was furrowed and her mouth all pinched up. “Oh, I don’t like this….” It came out on a whimper.
Kim laughed. “Wait till we’re finished. First, a deep-pore cleansing. Then the mud mask. Manicure. And pedicure. The hair, of course—and full makeup, once your pores have had a chance to settle down from the cleansing and the mask.”
That didn’t sound particularly comforting. “My pores have to settle down?”
“Yes. And they will. We have plenty of time. You’ll walk out of here a new woman.”
“I’m just fine the way I am.” She wished she sounded more convincing.
“Of course you are. But there’s always room for improvement.”
“It’s too much….”
Kim gave a delicate snort. “You already said that.”
Lynn caught Danielle’s eye in the mirror. “You know you can’t afford all this.” Danielle was a single mom on a limited budget. “It will be far too expensive.”
Gracie put her plump hands on Lynn’s shoulders. “Listen.” Lynn stiffened. Gracie’s warm fingers pressed a little more firmly. “I mean it.”
Sara piped up then. “Miss Taylor, you have to sit still if you want to get your surprise. You have to let them make you beautiful, just like Cinderella. Remember? When her fairy godmother came and got out her magic wand and sang the ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’ song and Cinderella’s hair got so pretty and her raggedy dress turned into a magic ball gown and the little mouses turned into horses and the big pumpkin turned into—”
“Honey.” Danielle shook her head.
Sara put her hand over her mouth. “Oops.”
Gracie said, “There are some coloring books in the cabinet under the table in the waiting area. Maybe Sara would have some fun with them?”
“Coloring books?” Sara asked with interest.
Danielle shot her friend a reassuring smile. “Relax.” Then she took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go check them out.”
Danielle led her daughter away and Gracie faced Lynn in the mirror once more. “Now. Are you listening?”
“Yes, but—”
“Hush. Are you listening?”
Lynn gulped and nodded.
Gracie said, “I’ve lived in Whitehorn all my life.”
“Well, Gracie, I know that.”
“And I went to school with you,” Kim added.
Lynn felt defensive. “What are you getting at?”
“The truth,” said Gracie. “That’s what you get from your hairdresser, if you’re lucky. A decent cut and a little honesty. We’ve all watched you over
