Twenty-two
‘The trick to finding the right hat is working out what it is you want that hat to do.’ Bree explained to Harper as they stood before a towering wall of wide-brimmed hats of many assorted colours and styles.
‘I’ve never bought a hat before. I usually get stuck wearing those dumb politician caps to hawk for votes. They were always ugly and flimsy things, but these are big.’
‘Try one.’
‘What am I looking for?’ There was nothing quite like that splurge on a luxury item that maxed out your credit card, where shopping for clothes usually felt as good as a hair flick of freshly blown-dry hair straight from the salon. Right now, Harper was hoping for the power of retail therapy.
‘With your skin, you’ll want a wide brim. Wider the better. As you don’t use a stockwhip, the brim can remain flat. So, avoid the curled sides, which will only let the sun in to burn your ears.’ Bree tapped her own ears.
‘But isn’t that the classic design for cowboy hats?’
‘In America, they’re designed like that because they do a lot of roping. This is Australia and we have a harsh outback sun we try to avoid.’ Bree walked before the wall of hats like a teacher giving a lecture in a classroom. ‘As we’re currently enjoying a fabulous winter—’
‘It’s summer for me.’
‘This time of year, a felt hat is fine. In the summer, you’ll want a straw hat, the lighter the better.’
‘Like you and your vast hat collection at the cottage.’
‘My skin is like yours, Harper. I burn easily, and instead of getting a tan, I just get more freckles.’
‘Which is why you make your own sunscreen.’
Again, Bree nodded, sliding on a hat over Harper’s head.
Harper flinched and ducked away.
‘What?’ Bree peered inside the hat. ‘Did it have a pin inside?’
‘It’s not you. It’s me.’ She touched the bald spot at the back of her head.
‘Is it irritating your scar?’
‘I’m sensitive there.’
‘But you’re able to keep your ponytail tight.’
‘I do that to hide my bald spot,’ she shyly admitted. ‘Normally I don’t wear my hair up, except for the gym.’
‘Let me see it.’ She gently pulled Harper’s hair out of the ponytail. ‘I swear, I can’t see it when your hair is down.’
‘I can feel it.’
‘I imagine it’d be like that tiny zit you get on your chin that feels like some massive boil festering over your whole chin.’
‘Is that what it looks like?’ Harper gasped, stepping back with her eyes widening in horror, her hands covering her bald spot.
‘No, blossom, it’s nothing like that. But it gives me an idea for finding the right hat to suit you. You’ll want a taller crown to keep it off that sensitive area … Like this one.’ She plucked a dark brown hat from the shelf. ‘You can do the honours.’
‘Can I just wear a ski mask?’
‘And die from heat exposure? Go for it.’
Harper gently slid on the hat. It didn’t touch the scars that lived high on the back of her scalp. There was a gap.
‘Not too tight?’
‘It’s perfect.’
‘In that case, we’ll go a size bigger.’
‘Why?’
‘Because the inner bands shrink. It’s what they do.’ Bree grabbed the larger sized hat, flipped it over and slid some small sponge inside, to pad the inner lining. She then gently slid the hat back onto Harper’s head. ‘When breaking in a new hat, you pad up the inside. The more you wear it, the more you adjust the lining, until it eventually fits you like a glove. Then it will never come off when you’re galloping on a horse into the wind. And that’s what you want in a stockman’s hat.’
‘Where do I get a fancy hatband like Charlie’s crocodile band. Or a bohemian look like yours.’ She’d seen Bree’s hat collection that had contrasting strips of cloth, twine or leather, feathers, lace, even a playing card and some matches tucked into the hatbands. Each hat, and each band was different.
‘You can dress it up however you want later. A stockman’s hat is like getting a pair of new shoes, the more you wear it, the better they fit. But its primary job is to protect you and your brain from the sun.’ She turned Harper around and faced the mirror. ‘Look at that.’ Bree stood back from the mirror. ‘Perfect. You look like a stockwoman.’
‘Is that really me?’ Harper lifted her chin, trying to stare at herself sideways, twirling around as if wearing a ball gown, to glimpse the back. It was just jeans, boots, a long-sleeved shirt, but the hat said it all.
‘I like this hat.’ It wasn’t rubbing against her scar, but the brim was huge, curving down to cover the back of her neck, where Bree lifted her shirt’s collar high. But the shape, the colour of the hat also highlighted her eyes, while cleverly adding some shading to her cheekbones that softened her skin. How could a hat do all that?
She’d been to milliners with her mother to find hats for race-day outfits and suffered with fascinators for fancy garden weddings, but this was something entirely different.
‘Are you going to wear one of your new outfits home?’ Bree put a small hat on Mason’s head. ‘Just like our future rodeo champion, here.’
‘Can I?’
‘Sure. I’m not your mother. But I recommend that you wash your new clothes before the muster, and try to wear your boots around the house to wear them in.’
‘I will.’
Mason stood beside Harper at the mirror, wearing a big gummy smile, in little boots, jeans, and an enormous hat that looked so cute. He was the perfect model of cuteness for the clothing brand. If Mason was a politician’s son, she’d be taking photos to rack up social media points to boost their polls. But she took a photo with her phone, for her own keepsake. Maybe she’d share it with Ash?
‘Come here, little man,’ said Bree. ‘I want those tags on your jeans.’
‘No.’ The little boy giggled. His jeans swishing as he toddled away fast, with his laughter filling the area of the feed store that held saddles, bridles, horse wash, even dog leads, collars, and dog beds.
‘Mason, come back.’ Bree raced after the boy.
‘Gotcha.’ It was a deep voice, coming from a man who had just entered the store. ‘Are you running to or from trouble, young man?’
‘Put down the child, Leo.’ Bree’s voice was deadly serious.
It made Harper rush to find Bree and Mason.
The man holding Mason was wearing a suit. A properly tailored suit, with a red silk tie, and shiny black shoes. Oh, how she missed seeing men in suits.
‘Hello, Bree. Does this boy belong to you?’
‘Put down the child, walk away, and no one gets hurt.’
The man laughed, passing the child to Bree.
‘Here, Harper. Take him. Pack up, and let’s go.’ Bree passed Mason to Harper, wearing a serious expression that carried a sense of urgency.
‘What are you doing here, Leo? And wearing a suit—have you just finished your parole hearing? No, wait,’ Bree held up her hand and said, ‘did you and your little mobster mates crash some open-mic comedy club, to really slay the crowd over lunch.’
‘No. Although, I’d love to take you to lunch, Bree.’ The man laughed, highly amused. He had jet-black hair with fine flecks of grey, a three-day growth peppered across his strong jawline, but his eyes had a dark, sinful look focused entirely on Bree.
‘We just did lunch, thanks. Not hungry.’
‘How about dinner? The jet’s in town. I could take you shopping in Sydney. My treat.’
‘As I’ve told you before, Leo, no. Or has an alien hijacked your brain for you to dare ask me that again?’
‘I’m not giving up.’ He stepped in real close, towering over Bree. But she never flinched, holding her spot, glaring up at the guy.
‘What do you want?’
‘Well, if I told you that, I’m pretty sure you’d slap me.’ Leo’s mouth shifted, his eyes clearly displaying a very hungry look that trailed up and down Bree’s curves. ‘But I don’t mind a bit of rough play. You?’
‘I just love how you bring violence so fast into our conversations.’
Again, he laughed, his smile handsome with that whole dark mobster vibe to him, as he loosened his silk tie. ‘I’m here for a hat. Care to help me?’
‘Sure. Let me fold some newspaper into a sailor’s hat so you can float on outta here.’
‘ Bwee, a-at ?’ Mason struggled with saying the letter h, but he held out his hat to Bree as Harper strained to keep him on her hip.
‘You keep your hat on, buddy. You stay with Harper.’ Bree’s eyes flared at Harper to leave. Now .
‘I’ve got you, Mason. Let’s get ready for another fun car ride.’ Harper tucked him into his pram, wishing the young woman behind the counter would ring up the bill for her clothes faster.
‘Is that your boy?’ Leo pointed at Mason in the pram.
Bree’s glare darkened, as did her tone, layered thick with maternal protectiveness. ‘None of your business.’
‘Come on, Bree.’ Leo held up his hands. ‘We’re in town, its neutral territory.’
‘And where is your little band of balding gorillas?’
‘Where is Charlie?’
They both stared at each other, the tension thickening the air.
It was hard to tell if Bree and Leo were mortal enemies or were about to kiss. The chemical love-hate attraction was steamy.
‘Can’t you play nice, Bree?’ His voice was deep and dark.
‘You’d get bored if I did.’
His lips twitched, and he wiped his hand over his jaw as if to stop the smile. But the shine in his eyes showed how highly amused this man was. His well-tailored suit fit perfectly on his cuffs, and the length on his legs, in a rich deep blue material. A very fine Cartier watch completed the ensemble that would have Harper’s suit-loving father asking for the tailor’s details.
‘Come on, Bree, I could really use your opinion.’
‘I’m sure my opinion of anything in your world has the weight of a zebra finch fart. Wait. I meant to say that the other way around, more along the lines of: I’ll write down your concerns and send it to a politician who cares?’
‘I need a new hat and I saw how well you—’
‘You’d been spying on us?’ She waggled her finger at him. ‘You do that, huh?’
‘Only on what’s worth looking at.’ Again, his eyes slow-crawled over Bree. Harper felt naked for her friend.
‘Wait, for a minute there I thought you were asking me to play personal shopper for you . Did I hear that right?’
‘You do have good taste, and I admire your style, both on and off the station.’ He held his hand over his heart, even bowing his head to her. ‘I’m being sincere about the hat.’
‘Fine. Let me go get you a bucket big enough to hide your entire head. With luck you’ll suffocate.’ Bree turned on her heels, and the man followed her, watching Bree’s hip sway to the back wall.
Bree gave Harper a hurry-up and get-out look. Even though she seemed annoyed, there was some indication that the redhead was enjoying this game as much as Leo. It was better than watching politicians who hated each other banter with sarcastic niceties. They did that for the adrenaline rush and votes, which was just a part of the game of politics. But what was Bree’s game plan?
Bree stood before the wall of hats. ‘This one.’ She plucked a black one off the wall.
He took the hat and slid it on. ‘Too tight.’
‘Well, they don’t make them big enough for criminal masterminds like yourself.’
‘Bree? Come on. Let’s play nice.’
‘Fine.’ She checked the hat’s inner lining, then went through the rack and selected another one. ‘This one.’
‘Are you sure?’
She just popped her hand on her hip and glared at him as if to say, try me.
Leo slid on the black hat. It was perfect, just like Bree had found for Harper.
Bree checked over the fit, the brim, then gave Leo and his new hat a nod of approval. ‘And my job is done. Later, demon spawn. Please don’t eat the children in town.’
‘Aww, you’ve hurt my feelings, Bree.’ Leo chuckled.
‘You don’t have any.’
‘Do you?’
‘Not for you. But you should go find yourself a gold digger and put her to work digging up that new mine of yours.’
‘It’s just business, Bree. And I know you’re all about smart business that comes with a whole lot of outlaw attitude. It’s hot.’
‘Oh, please, don’t make me hurl my lunch.’
‘The people in your world have no idea how much of a gift you are. But I do. So please have dinner with me, Bree?’
‘No. But I will agree with you that I don’t think the people in my life ever fully appreciate how many lives are saved by my self-control and desire to not go to prison. So, no. I will not have dinner with you today, tomorrow, or next Tuesday.’
‘I’ll pay you for your time?’
‘Well, for five k I’ll make your eternal demise look like an accident. For a cup of raw peanuts, I’ll make it look like a hilarious accident.’
He laughed so loud it made Harper pause, with Mason grinning.
Even Bree gave him a sly grin. ‘Have a nice life, Leo. Enjoy your hat.’
Leo tapped his hat’s brim at Bree in an old-fashioned cowboy hat tilt. It was sweet and old world gentlemanly. Even though Bree rolled her eyes at him, her lips twitched as if to control her smile.
‘Let’s go.’ Bree pushed the pram.
Harper carried the bags outside where they copped the full brunt of the outdoor heat and the sun’s glare. Harper held out her new hat like a piece of cardboard to block the sun.
‘You can wear the hat, Harper. It is to be used.’
It was Harper’s turn to roll her eyes, sliding on the hat. ‘Who was that?’
‘Leonard Travers. Leo. He’s Elsie Creek Station’s eastern neighbour—the man trying to steal the station’s water.’
Harper gasped, turning back to the store. Inside, Leo nodded at her as he leaned his elbow against the counter while the cashier rang up the purchase of his hat.
Harper rushed to catch up with Bree who was opening the yellow Kombi van’s side door. ‘That’s the bad guy?’ In a suit.
‘The ultimate bad guy.’ Bree paused from loading up the van. ‘If you ever see Leo, walk away, Harper. Leo is slipperier than a dozen experienced politicians on a good day. And we do not need someone like Leo learning we’re leaving the homestead empty for this muster. Especially since they’ve just fixed that dam that Leo and his balding gorillas destroyed in the first place.’