went back to her client, an elderly woman whose hair seemed to be a mass of pink sausages. “You can’t be done in five minutes,” the client said a bit more loudly than necessary.
“Oh, yes, I will,” said the beauty. “And you’ll love it.”
“Well, it better not be—”
The stylist applied a brush and went to town. She fluffed out the woman’s hair, did a little backcombing and shaping, sprayed some spray.
Dakota picked up a magazine and idly paged through it. Good oral hygiene had never served him better. In five minutes he was in the chair with the beautiful Alyssa running a comb casually through his dark hair. “What are we doing with you today?”
Dakota was suddenly conscious of how long it had been since he’d had sex. “Nothing special,” he said. Up against the wall work for you? “Just trim it up, and can you trim the beard? Not Hollywood, just not Duck Dynasty.”
“I’ve got it,” she said, showing him a brilliant smile of her own. “Let’s start with a good shampoo. Right this way.”
He didn’t mention he’d already done that in his morning shower but instead let her lead him to the back. While she massaged his scalp and quizzed him, he just let his eyes close gently. He had a brother not so far from here, he said. He was just out of the Army and planned on exploring the country a little, starting here. He liked to fish and hike. He wasn’t making any plans for a while. He was deliberately vague. This was a small town. He didn’t want to do or say anything that might reflect badly on Cal or Sierra and all those attached. Until he got the lay of the land, he’d be a little mysterious.
But her fingers in his hair felt amazing. “You married, Alyssa?” he asked in a soft, smoky voice.
“Still waiting for the right guy, Dakota,” she whispered back. “Do you have a lot of friends around here?” she asked, smothering his head with a towel and leading him back to her station.
“My brother’s friends,” he said with a shrug. “A few nice people.”
“No girlfriend?”
He met her eyes in the mirror. “No girlfriend.”
“I take that to mean there’s no wife or fiancée, either?” she asked.
He shook his head, feeling like great sex could be minutes away. It was a feeling, not something he’d act on. This was Cal and Sierra’s town. Hit-and-run wouldn’t work. The repercussions could make life difficult for people he cared about and he wouldn’t risk it. But this Alyssa, long-legged, beautiful, friendly, ready—this held great promise. He might have found himself a woman to pass the time with. It was worth considering. And it was worth slowing down and using caution.
“You know your way around a pair of scissors,” he said, looking in the mirror. The haircut was excellent; the beard was looking good.
“You okay with the gray?” she asked. “Because if you’re not...”
“I think it’s fine,” he said. “I earned every one.”
“That’s good, because I like it. It’s very attractive.”
“Are you buttering me up for a good tip?” he teased.
“You’re kidding, right? Since you’re new to the area, could you use someone to show you around?”
“That might come in handy,” he said. “Right now I have somewhere I have to be. Maybe you’d trust me with your phone number?”
“Sure,” she said. She waited for him to get out his phone, then rattled off the digits. “I’d be more than happy to. This is a great little town. Full of possibilities.”
“I can see that,” he said. “Well, Alyssa, thanks for a good job. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.”
He paid in cash; the tip was excellent. He put on his jacket, turned the collar up and walked out into the rain. He went down the block and across the street to the diner. Sierra was working today. He’d have lunch and show her his flyer of rental properties.
Dakota took a booth at the diner and let Sierra wait on him. He ordered a bowl of soup, half a sandwich and a coffee. It wasn’t long before Sierra slid into the booth with a slice of blueberry pie.
“Is that for me?” he asked.
She looked at it for a second. “Yes,” she said. Then she went back behind the counter and got another slice of pie, making him laugh at her.
“You’re so thoughtful,” he said.
“I am,” she said. “In the early summer we have rhubarb pie and rhubarb cobbler. I think this year I’m going to learn to bake.”
“When are you going to learn to get married?” he asked. “Seems like six months ago Connie asked us all if we would give consent and I guess I thought...”
“Well, you old fogy, you.” She grinned at him. “We keep meaning to plan something. Hey, Cal’s gone, right? Connie’s off tonight. It’s going to be cold and rainy. We’re having a fire and soup. Wanna come over?”
“I don’t know. Is there any nightlife around here?” he asked.
“Yeah—at our house. Fire and soup. Connie’s cooking. It’s amazing. Firemen are excellent cooks. Maybe if you’re very good, we’ll put on a movie. Or play a board game.”
He gave her a steady look. “I don’t think it’s going to take me long to get really bored.”
“You coming?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug.
Blood is thicker than water.
—GERMAN PROVERB
DAKOTA HAD LOOKED at three potential rental properties after lunch. They were adequate but a little large for just one guy and none of them felt right. He made an appointment with a property manager for the next morning and he looked at four more rentals. The last one was in the country, about ten miles from town. The cabin had a nice big porch. It was on a hillside and a creek ran past. There was a small bridge crossing the creek. “The creek swells in spring and early summer,” the agent said. “It was built as a vacation cabin. The owner liked to fish. He claimed the fishing was good in that creek.”
Dakota asked if they could go inside. It was a decent size, probably nine hundred square feet. There were two bedrooms, one medium-size bath, a galley kitchen and a nice big table, sofa and chair all in the great room. There was no TV but there was a desk. “Does it come furnished?” he asked.
“It can,” the agent said. “The owner is deceased and the heirs are letting it go. Our office is managing the property for now. We’re prepared to remove what you don’t want, leave what you can use. There’s no washer or dryer.”
“I
