Her Montana Twins. Carolyne Aarsen

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СКАЧАТЬ next time you have a couple of hours, come into the salon. I’ll fix you up real pretty,” Annette said.

      Hannah self-consciously lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. She knew she was overdue for a cut. The last time she had sat in a beauty salon had been the day of her wedding. And that was a hasty appointment almost two years ago. For the most part, she wore her hair long and pulled back, and trimmed it herself in the mirror. Much easier with her busy life. “Thanks, but—”

      “Some highlights and a bit of shaping would be perfect for you. You’d be adorable with bangs.” Annette pulled a card out of her capacious bag and set it on the counter. “I’ll even do it free. Anything for the wife of one of our brave soldiers.”

      Her sympathetic smile made Hannah even more self-conscious.

      She just returned Annette’s smile as the young woman tossed off a quick wave, then walked away. She reached for the heavy wooden door leading outside just as it swung open, sending in a shaft of afternoon sunlight into the main entrance of town hall.

      Annette fell back, her hand on her chest. “My goodness, Brody, you almost knocked me over.”

      Brody stepped into the entrance and tugged off his cowboy hat and Hannah felt that traitorous lift of her heart that accompanied thoughts of Brody.

      “Sorry, ma’am. In a bit of a hurry,” she heard Brody say.

      “Then I’ll let you get to it,” Annette said.

      Brody waited until the door fell shut behind Annette, then he strode over to the counter, his smile fading away as his booted feet echoed in the large atrium of the town hall. He wasn’t smiling as he had last week when he’d come here, which managed to ease the silly beatings of her lonely heart.

      “And what can I do for you, Mr. Harcourt?” she asked.

      “So we’re back to that again?” he said, his tone serious.

      She shrugged, pleased that she could hold his gaze. Not so pleased that she still felt that unwelcome flutter in her heart.

      Forget about it, Hannah reminded herself, glancing at the picture of the twins she had sitting on one corner of her desk. Beside it was a picture of David in his dress uniform.

      Seeing David’s picture was a gentle reminder and she pushed down her reaction to Brody, then turned back to him. “So what can I do for you?”

      “Those your kids?” Brody asked, pointing to the picture beside her computer.

      “Yes. Chrissy and Corey.”

      “Cute little munchkins. They must keep you busy.”

      His comment made her smile. “They do. But my parents help out a lot. My mother babysits every day I work.”

      Brody straightened, his hands resting on the counter. “Nice picture of David,” he said, effectively bringing her deceased husband into the moment, as well.

      David looked back at her, his expression serious, his dress uniform emphasizing his broad shoulders. She had gotten it only a few days ago from David’s mother. In memory of David’s birthday, she had told Hannah, giving her a hug of sympathy.

      Hannah had placed it on the desk, though every time she looked at it, David’s eyes seemed sadder and sadder.

      “Anyway, I came to check to see if you got us that corner booth like we talked about last week?”

      Hannah nodded. “I managed to talk the vet clinic into moving and they were happy to oblige once they knew the fire department was taking that space.” She gave him a careful smile. “They figured it would only enhance their traffic.”

      “I hope so.” Brody scratched the side of his head with a forefinger as if trying to draw out his next words. “Other reason I came was to talk about the job the committee wants us to take care of,” Brody said, all crisp, discreet and businesslike. “How do you think we should deal with Lilibeth?”

      “I’m not sure. Do you have any ideas?”

      Brody leaned his elbows on the counter, which only served to bring him closer to her.

      “I’m no detective, but I’m guessing we can start with talking to her, see if she knows anything.”

      “Which would give you the perfect opportunity to do what Abigail suggested?” Hannah asked, the faintly teasing comment slipping out of her.

      Brody’s eyes cut to her and then a lazy smile curved his mouth. “You mocking me, Mrs. Douglas?”

      Why had she given in to the impulse? Once upon a time she’d had a sense of humor. She hadn’t had much opportunity to use it for a while. But something about Brody seemed to tease it out of her.

      “She might be a tough nut to crack,” Hannah continued. “You could be like the...” She struggled to dredge up the term. Then she snapped her finger. “I know, the honey trap.”

      Brody’s smile deepened, which only served to make him look more attractive. “Thanks for your confidence in my abilities. I think I’ll stick with questions and answers.”

      Their eyes held a heartbeat longer than necessary and Hannah felt as if her chest was constricting. She yanked her attention back to the matter at hand. “Sure. We can do that. Meantime, I could try to find out more about the Miss Jasper Gulch contest. That might be a good reason to take her out. Tell her what I know.”

      “Sounds like a good plan.” Brody nodded as he turned his cowboy hat around in his hands. “Why don’t you make the arrangements and let me know. Things will be picking up on the ranch in a couple of weeks, so the sooner the better.”

      “Sure. I’ll call you.”

      “Do you have my cell phone number?”

      “No. I should get that from you.” She pulled out her cell phone and they exchanged numbers.

      As she looked up at him, Brody’s smile faded and she wondered if he was upset with her teasing. “Just want to say I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “About the committee pushing us together like this.”

      His apology was sincere and acknowledged a simple fact. So why did it make her feel sad?

      “It’s okay. I can see why they want you to talk to Lilibeth. She does seem attracted to you and she’ll probably open up quicker to you than anyone else.”

      “She’s just a kid,” Brody protested.

      The door opened again and this time Mayor Shaw strode into the entrance. He wore a Western-cut suit jacket today, which, combined with his white shirt and black Stetson, gave him a commanding look. Usually he had a smile for Hannah, but today he looked especially grim.

      His steps slowed when he saw Brody standing by Hannah’s desk.

      “Afternoon, Harcourt,” Jackson Shaw said, stopping by the counter, his steely gaze ticking from Hannah to Brody. “How are things with you?” he asked, his deep voice smooth as any good politician’s should be.

      “Fine, СКАЧАТЬ