Chapter Thirty-One
At noon, Sarah stole Milly from the diner, leaving it in the other server’s capable hands, and walked her down to the clothing boutique. Ben walked close behind the two women. “Let’s get you some pretty dresses,” Sarah said. “Something feminine. My treat.”
“Oh, no, I’ll pay for my clothes,” Milly said.
“We’ll call it your birthday gift,” Sarah said, not to be denied.
“My birthday’s not for another month.” Stubbornly, Milly stopped her forward progress and halted in the boutique doorway.
“Okay, we’ll call it your early birthday gift.” Pushing the older woman inside, Sarah greeted the shopkeeper and told him what they were after.
Within an hour, they’d chosen three dresses, knee-length and flowing, and two pair of kitten-heeled shoes. Milly wouldn’t hear of trying on anything like true high heels, so Sarah had to compromise. She figured they were worlds ahead of Milly’s customary loud tennis shoes.
Milly tucked the bulging bag under her arm, smiling with quiet pleasure.
“Come on.” Sarah took her arm. “You have appointments at the salon.”
Her smile wavering, Milly allowed herself to be towed down the block, while Ben peered into each shop’s windows.
“As long as there’s no blonde streaks,” she said.
“Nope,” Sarah said, opening the salon door. “The hair stylist is just going to brighten up your normal brunette, cover a bit of the gray. Then she’ll give you a nice new haircut. After that, you’re getting a mani-pedi.”
“All that?”
“A woman’s got to pamper herself.” Sarah held up a finger. “One more thing. Tomorrow, before the town fills up with people for the festival, the salon’s opening to do your makeup.”
“But—but I don’t wear makeup,” Milly said.
“Tomorrow, you do. Just a little. And you’ll wear one of your new dresses. And the shoes. No tennies. Tomorrow you’re going to be a bombshell.”
“Probably more like a bomb,” Milly muttered.
“Oh, stop it.” Sarah pushed her inside the door. “You’re a beautiful woman. Soon, everyone in town will know it.”
The owner greeted them, along with hair operators, manicure, and pedicure technicians. Sarah grinned as they herded the bewildered woman deep into the shop. Milly fought free, only to be gently taken by the arm again. She looked over her shoulder at Sarah, panic spreading across her face.
“Don’t worry,” Sarah called out. “You’ll be fine.”
Behind her, Ben said, “Is all this for Big Jim?”
“How’d you know?” She craned to look at him.
He seemed surprised. “Doesn’t everyone know how those two feel about each other? Pretty obvious.”
Sarah guessed she should have expected Ben’s insight.
She sighed. “No, people call them the Bickersons cause all they do is argue. People think they don’t like each other.”
“Ah. So, that’s why Jim goes there for breakfast every morning, spends at least two hours, and then every ten minutes demands her attention.”
“It’s been going on for years. I can see that Milly really loves him. He just needs a little jolt. Hopefully this lights a fire under him, make him see what he’s missing.”
“If you say so. Right now, I’ve got to have a word with Chief King about the festival’s security plans. I can’t leave you alone.”
“I’ll go with you,” Sarah said. “They won’t need me here for a while.”
Someone hurried down the block, making a beeline for Sarah. He wore dress slacks and shoes, a nice shirt, with hair neatly combed. Sarah wished he hadn’t seen her. Donovan Sinclair.
“Dear, dear Sarah,” Donovan said, stopping only inches from her and taking her shoulders. He completely ignored Ben. “I’ve been so worried about you. A stalker! I’ve heard the news and it’s just terrible. Have you been all right?”
Extricating herself, Sarah said, “Yes, thank you. It’s been pretty scary. But I have help. May I introduce you to my bodyguard Ben Paxton?”
Donovan barely acknowledged Ben. “Of course you should have a bodyguard. Why didn’t you tell me? I could hire someone local.”
“Ben is Rio’s boss. He owns a security consulting business.”
“Oh. Well, at least you’ll be safe. We should discuss this over a meal. And we should finalize our lease agreement.” He rubbed his hands together.
“That’s just the thing,” Sarah began. “I’ve decided to delay opening my feed barn. I’ll be going back to New York for a while, to make a little money. Then, I can buy property and build exactly what I want.”
“Sarah, are you certain that is wise? Only think, with a lease you have no worries about maintaining the structure. I’ll cut the rent.”
“No, Donovan. Uh thank you—”
“Dear,” he said, looking desperate, “you’ll much prefer a lease, and I’ll make it so attractive—”
“That’s enough,” Ben said on a low growl.
Donovan blinked at him. “Pardon me?”
“I said that’s enough. The lady said no. Enjoy your day.” With that, Ben took Sarah’s elbow and steered her away.
She shrugged in apology but allowed herself to be steered toward the police department.
Donovan Sinclair watched her go, a forlorn look of loss on his face.
Sarah pursed her lips. “Thank you,” she said to Ben. “He’s a nice man, albeit a tad pushy.”
“No!” Ben said in dripping sarcasm. Texting Franklin, Simmons, and Jones to meet them at the police department, he urged Sarah to walk faster across the square. His team had already arrived.
Inside the department, Chief King greeted them. He explained how his police force security team worked, then Ben introduced his men.
“We’re here to watch Sarah,” Ben said, “and we’ll stay out of your officers’ ways. My men are well trained and won’t interfere with your normal activities.”
“Understood,” Chief King said. “We haven’t heard yet about Ridley Kemper. The Idaho authorities say he’s fallen ill and sent him to the jail’s infirmary, so they can’t interrogate him yet about his recent activities.”
“That’s why we can’t lower our guard.” Ben exchanged meaningful glances with his men.
“Agreed.” Chief King leaned against an old file cabinet. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I’ll be setting up a perimeter around Sarah,” Ben said. “Simmons’s my new tech guy. He’s brought our own comms and ear buds so we can communicate.”
The men continued the discussion. After an hour and a half, Sarah grew restive. She tugged on Ben’s sleeve. “I need to get back to Milly. See how she’s doing.”
He nodded. “We’re done here. Chief, see you in the morning. Early.”
They left, with the other men again setting out to patrol the square.
At the salon, Milly was just having a clear coat of lacquer over her newly red nails. Her hair had been cut to swing above her shoulders, darkened to a shiny, medium brown and parted on the side. She was glowing.
“Look, Sarah.” She held up her manicured fingers. “Aren’t they pretty?”
“You’re pretty,” Sarah said. “Just wait until tomorrow when we get you into one of those dresses and heels. Some people here are going to take notice.” She emphasized the word some.
“You think so?” Milly looked encouraged, and Sarah smiled her reassurance.
“No doubt about it,” she said.
Ben took off his hat and laid it over his heart. “Miss Milly, why if I wasn’t already attached, I’d be proud to ask you out to supper.”
Milly blushed, waved him away. “Oh, you.”
He didn’t budge. “You are one fine lookin’ woman. Any man worth his hay can see it.”
Sarah grinned at Ben. He’d known the right thing to say, just when to emphasize his Texas accent. “Okay, Milly, we’ll take you back to the diner now. I need to get home. In a couple of hours, four hungry men are going to be expecting me to serve them dinner.”
“I’m already hungry,” Ben said.
Sarah hugged the other woman. “We’ll be back in town early tomorrow. I’m so excited about the festival. And about your new appearance. It’s going to be a great day.”
Ben glanced uneasily down the street. Things were quiet. To his way of thinking, too quiet. But he was a suspicious bastard. The attitude came from years of unpleasant surprises on the battlefield, and later, from private jobs gone to hell. He’d learned to distrust a calm landscape.
Calm landscapes could hide snakes.