Wild Cowboy Ways (Lucky Penny Ranch #1)(69)

Katy glanced nervously toward Allie. “Store should have opened thirty minutes ago. If I don’t get down there, the gossip will be flyin’ over town like Santa Claus at Christmas.”

“I’ve got it. Both of you get going. I’ll get her dry and fed, then I’ll watch her like a hawk. It’s not my day to clean, but I’ll take care of the house cleaning for you, Mama,” Allie shooed them both out the door.

Lord only knew, she needed something to keep her mind occupied that day or she’d go crazy. She’d never known such acute jealousy as she did when she saw that two-bit, brazen blond hussy who looked like she was about to kiss Blake. She hadn’t even been that angry when Riley came home and told her that he was in love with another woman.

“My tits are frozen,” Granny said. “Help me get out of these hooker clothes and into a warm shower. Why’d you tell me to wear this shit anyway? You know I’m old.”

Allie pulled the ruined sequin top up over her grandmother’s head and marched her to the shower. When she was tugging the jeans down from her granny’s hips, she realized the old girl had on two different shoes. One was a brown sneaker that belonged to Katy. It was laced properly and tied in a perfect little bow. The other was a lovely black-velvet flat that Lizzy kept for special occasions. Lizzy would gripe for days, but there was nothing to do but toss them in the trash now because they were ruined.

“Granny, where did you find this shoe?” Allie asked.

“Me? You’re the one who put me in that ridiculous outfit and then let me go out in the weather so don’t ask dumb questions. I’ve got more sense than to pick out shit like that,” Irene fussed. “I can take off my own underpants and bra. You put a towel on the vanity and when my bones are warm, I’ll come out and get dressed.”

Allie sighed. “How about a nice warm sweat suit, too?”

“Okay but don’t you give me none of that stuff that looks like hooker clothes. I keep telling you, I’m not Audrey.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Allie said with a nod.

She laid the clothing out and then sat down in the rocking chair beside the window in her grandmother’s room. She could hear her grandmother singing something about the love of her life. Allie wondered if it was something she made up or if the song had been popular back in her younger life.

Leaning her head back staring at the ceiling she replayed that introduction. She was the carpenter, nothing more or less. Blake didn’t throw an arm around her shoulder or even wink when he said that. The moment had brought the truth to the surface. She was nothing more than another notch on his bedpost.

The headache started with a jabbing pain in her right temple and traveled across her forehead around to the back of her skull. She shut her eyes and put her hand over them to keep out the light. She didn’t even try to open them when she heard the shower stop or when her grandmother grumbled about the ugly pink sweat suit that was laid out for her.

She did open them when her granny kicked the rung of the rocker. “What the hell’s wrong with you? Surely you haven’t let that boy next door get in your pants and give you a guilty headache. If you have, I hope to hell you used protection because your mama will crap little green apples if you get pregnant.”

“Granny, come sit down at the vanity and let me blow-dry your hair and curl it for you. It looks pitiful,” Allie said.

Irene clapped her hands. “And my fingernails and toenails, too. Let’s have a beauty shop day. I could trim your hair and put it up in sponge rollers.”

Allie wouldn’t let her grandmother near her hair with a pair of fingernail clippers much less scissors, and she doubted if there were any sponge rollers left in the house. It had been years since she’d seen even a stray one.

“Let’s do you all up pretty first and then we’ll talk about my hair and nails. It might be time for dinner by then, and I was thinkin’ about chocolate chip pancakes.” Allie evaded the idea with expert precision.

Irene clapped louder. “I like it when you stay home with me, Allie. You know I can’t remember too good these days. Sometimes whole days get away from me.”

Allie gave her a hug. “You smell like baby powder.”

“It’s a nice clean scent that goes well with any perfume,” Irene said seriously. “I bet I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

Allie led her to the vanity and set her on the cute little brass stool with a pink velvet pillow. “Yes, you have, but it takes a lot of tellin’ for me to remember. Now, while I do your hair, you can tell me stories about when you were a little girl.”

Irene prattled on, telling tales of her childhood that Allie had heard dozens if not hundreds of times. Letting her own mind wander while she curled her grandmother’s thin gray hair and did her nails in the bright pink nail polish that she liked, she kept going over and over the details of that morning. Did she miss a sly wink? She slowed the events down and could honestly say that he had not even looked her way when he introduced her as the woman who’d been working on his house.

“And then you grew up and married that sumbitch.” Granny’s final words brought her back into the present.

“Yes, I did,” Allie said, and her phone rang.

Granny stuck out her lower lip in a pout. “This is supposed to be our day. Don’t you dare invite that boy from next door over here. He’ll get in our way and ruin everything.”