Harper plucked another headband from the rack, one that was crafted of twisted metal, but lacked embellishments. “This one is simple and you can dress it up or down. For a casual look, twine a ribbon or a piece of fabric through the open metal if you want to match a specific outfit. For formal, you could clip earrings or other pieces of rhinestone jewelry across the top. Then it almost looks like a crown.”

“Says the beauty queen used to wearing crowns.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“See? Now you’ve sold me two headbands, which is more than I would’ve spent on the haircut.” Janie turned and gave Harper’s clothes a critical once-over. “My God. Do you always look so amazingly put together? You have such a fantastic fashion sense. Is that something they teach you at pageants?”

Harper laughed. Maybe a bit wildly.

“What?” Janie asked suspiciously.

“Without seeming like a sympathy seeker, I will just say that financial necessity has forced me to get creative with my clothes. Most are purchased at secondhand stores. Although it’s much hipper to call them vintage.” Harper pointed to her cream-colored button-up shirt. “I bought this dress shirt in the men’s section for, like, two bucks.”

“And the rest of the outfit?”

“I’ve picked up pieces here and there, but I didn’t pay more than ten bucks for anything I’ve got on, including my boots.” That morning she’d paired the fitted shirt with a dark brown tank top decorated with tan leather fringe. She’d tucked the tank top into the khaki-colored miniskirt and knotted the ends of the shirt through her front belt loops, creating her own belt. She’d slipped on her tan cowgirl boots with the suede fringe running down the back seam. In fleeing from home, she’d purposely chosen pieces that she could mix and match for several days because she hadn’t known how long she’d be gone.

Janie fiddled with the button on her maroon suit jacket and tugged at the hem of her matching skirt. “I’m ashamed to tell you I paid over two hundred bucks for this outfit—and that doesn’t include the shoes.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed. You look great.”

“I sense a but,” Janie said.

“But if it were me, and I was wearing such a severe business suit? I’d add a feminine touch, like a softer fabric shirt with a slight pattern or better yet, a high-cut lace camisole.” When Janie frowned, Harper felt ridiculous for offering her advice. Obviously a successful professional woman such as Janie knew how to dress herself.

She stepped behind the register. “Is there anything else?”

“Yes.”

Harper looked up at the emphatic yes.

Janie angled over the counter—how the tiny woman’s feet were still on the floor, quite frankly, completely mystified Harper—and said, “Are you still working for Bran Turner?”

“No.”

“Are you still taking off for parts unknown after your sister graduates?”

“Umm. Not exactly.”

Janie’s shrewd eyes zoomed to the Help Wanted section folded on the counter. “So you’re looking for work in Casper?”

Nosy little thing. “Yes. Jobs are limited in Muddy Gap and a girl’s gotta make a living if she wants to get out of Wyoming.” Or even if she plans to stay in Wyoming.

Where had that thought come from?

“Can you do me a favor before you drop off your résumé with any of those places you’ve circled?”

Harper nearly laughed. Résumé? Applebee’s didn’t need a résumé, just a completed job application. “What?”

“Meet me at Buckeye Joe’s tonight. Around seven?”

“I don’t think getting drunk is going to help my iffy job situation, Janie.”

Janie grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that. However, that’s not why I’m asking.” Her face became pure business. “Please. And wear what you’ve got on, okay?”

It wasn’t like she had anything else to do besides fight with Bailey. She’d intended on driving back to Casper after she finished talking to Bernice, but she really didn’t want to shell out another sixty bucks for a motel room. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

Chapter Twenty-three

The scented steam wafted up as Harper poured herself a cup of tea. It’d be easy to knock back more whiskey to take the edge off, but her mother had always looked for answers in the bottom of a bottle and Harper knew firsthand it didn’t work.

Given the state of the house, she assumed her sister had spent the night elsewhere. Maybe she wouldn’t drag herself back here tonight either.

Not nice, Harper.

She wasn’t feeling very nice.

Her cell phone rang and she glanced at the number over the rim of her teacup. Celia. Her finger hovered on the answer button because she missed talking to her friend. Yet she didn’t feel like rehashing the past twenty-four hours. She let the call kick over to voice mail, knowing Celia wouldn’t leave a message.

Story of her life. No one had left a message. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Liberty had. Surprisingly she hadn’t blustered with her usual piss-off-and-deal-with-it response. She’d very calmly and emphatically informed Harper that she’d had no hand in suggesting that Bailey opt for military service instead of college.

Bran hadn’t attempted to call either. She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But being just plain numb about everything had an upside. She drained the remainder of her tea and stood. Time to see why Janie had been so insistent on meeting her tonight.

Tags: Lorelei James Blacktop Cowboys Western
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