gonna have a cow.”
“Guess what?” Rachel leaned over the counter. Excitement shining in their faces, anxious for any tidbit, both women met her halfway. “I’m twenty-six years old.”
Sally drew back with a humph. “You saying you don’t listen to your mama anymore?”
“Nope.” Rachel smiled. “I’m saying she hasn’t told me what to do in a long time.”
Clearly disappointed, Roxy shuffled back to her workstation. Anyone who knew her could pick out which spot was hers by the Elvis photos outlining the wall mirror. He’d passed away before she was born, but she’d been in love with him since the eighth grade.
“Give me a minute to get ready for you.” Sally hustled toward the back station with the turquoise shampoo bowl.
Rachel knew the wait would be a bit longer so Sally’s nails could dry. She turned her back on the shop so only Jamie could hear her. “The place looks old-fashioned but Sally isn’t a bad stylist. She keeps up on trends. Even tried jazzing up the place to keep the younger women from going to Kalispell for their haircuts, but the older clientele complained.”
“Where do you get yours cut?”
Rachel smiled wryly. “Kalispell.”
“Okay, next time you go…”
“Yep, I’ll let you know.”
Jamie picked up a hairstyle magazine left on the counter and flipped through it. “So what’s the deal about not asking for a pedicure?”
“I doubt Sally is set up for it. Around here goats and horses have their hooves trimmed, and women cut their own toenails.”
“This is sad. I don’t know when you’re kidding anymore.”
“Sometimes it’s an adjustment for me, too. I lived in Dallas for over six years, remember.”
Jamie sighed. “Then I guess I shouldn’t ask for a Brazilian either.”
Rachel laughed loudly enough that Sally and Roxy both sent her curious looks. Sally waved them back to her station, and before Rachel took the lead, she murmured to Jamie, “I dare you.”
“I’m not worried. They’ll be too busy talking about you and your purple streak, Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
“Oh, they’ll be whispering all right…about what a horrible influence you are on me.”
This time Jamie burst out laughing. “I’m screwed either way.”
Sally motioned for Rachel to sit in her chair. “You ladies are in mighty fine moods. You just wait till you’re looking down the barrel of forty-six and see how chipper you are.” She shook out a plastic pink cape and draped it over Rachel.
“What would you know about that?” Rachel lifted her hair so Sally could tie the strings. “You can’t be a day over thirty yourself.”
Sally chuckled. She’d been telling people she was thirty-nine for so long, her age had remained a true mystery. But forty-six sounded about right.
Rolling her eyes, Jamie sank onto Roxy’s chair and was sheathed with her own plastic cape.
“You two serious about putting in streaks?” Sally asked.
In unison they assured her they were, and she eagerly pulled out color samples. Roxy didn’t seem as impressed, and she gladly stood by while Sally mixed the two selected shades.
Mrs. Perkins’s dryer went off and she started to say something when the door opened. All heads turned toward Louise. Her cheeks red, she looked as if she’d run all the way from her fabric store, a pair of scissors in one hand, and a silver thimble on her right thumb.
“You’re not gonna believe who I just saw going into Abe’s Variety.” Her gaze panned the room, her eyes bright and excited.
“Well, go ahead, tell us before you have a stroke,” Sally said impatiently.
Searching each face until she was satisfied she had everyone’s full attention, Louise took another dramatic pause, then deliberately met Rachel’s eyes and said, “Matt Gunderson.”
2
RACHEL FELT THE BLOOD drain from her face. She didn’t think she’d said anything out loud or made a weird noise, but she might have. All the other women were staring at her, including Jamie.
For pity’s sake, Rachel hadn’t seen him in ten years. Yeah, she’d had a thing for him once, but she’d been a kid, only sixteen when he left town. The few people who’d suspected her crush hadn’t taken it seriously. For two reasons—he was three years older than her, already a man, and he was a Gunderson. Everyone in Blackfoot Falls knew McAllisters and Gundersons didn’t mix. Not if Matt’s father had anything to do with it, anyway.
“Matt Gunderson,” Sally repeated with a soft murmur. “He was a damn fine-looking young man last I saw him. Tall and lean, with those bedroom blue eyes…Got his pa’s looks. Wallace was real handsome in his twenties and thirties, before he started drinking heavy. What’s it been, ten years since Matt left?”
“Good thing he didn’t end up with Wallace’s nasty disposition.” Louise said. “Of course a decade is a long time…anything could’ve happened. I suppose he might be just as rotten as his father by now.”
“Not Matt,” Ruth Wilson said, the adamant shake of her head brooking no argument. “He was a quiet, sweet boy, and very smart, too.” He’d been her student, just like everyone under age forty living in Salina County had been at one time or another. “I’d hoped Matthew would go to college. I certainly encouraged him to give it a try. So did his mama. By the way, he was here for her funeral three years ago. Seems you ladies have forgotten.”
“I didn’t forget.” Libby Perkins sniffed. “Catherine Gunderson was a lovely woman. I don’t know a soul who didn’t attend her funeral. The way I hear it, Matt came back two weeks before she died, stayed glued to her bedside, saw to her burial arrangements the day she passed, then left an hour after the services.”
Rachel hadn’t gone to the funeral. She’d been in Dallas, studying for finals, and hadn’t learned of Mrs. Gunderson’s passing until a week later. By delaying the news, her mother had saved her from making the decision to return for the services. Selfishly, Rachel hadn’t minded. The timing had been bad as far as school went, and she hadn’t wanted to see Matt under such sad circumstances.
The women continued talking about the Gundersons, mostly Wallace and his haggard appearance of late. They speculated on whether it was due to drinking or if his failing health was the reason Matt had suddenly shown up. Though it was no secret the two had been estranged the minute Matt left a decade ago.
Rachel quit listening and tried to think about something else. Except it was difficult to ignore the jittery feeling in her stomach. She couldn’t even distract herself by talking to Jamie, not without the others hearing them. But the way Jamie kept shooting her inquisitive glances, it was obvious what was on her mind. The trouble was, Rachel hadn’t decided how much she wanted to share about Matt.
It
