That was the kind of woman he was drawn to: natural, sweet and compliant. A woman who’d bake pies from scratch with strawberries fresh from the garden. The kind of woman he could grow old with, reveling in a normal, boring, run-of-the-mill Ozzie and Harriett life. Not a bitter, bossy, snappish former diva.
No attraction to that type.
Not at all.
He fell in step beside her.
“You mean Feathers and Threads?” Other than T-shirt shops and the fishing shop, which sold outdoor gear, that was the only women’s clothing store in town.
“I prefer to think of it as Cowgirl Duds R Us.”
He chuckled. “It’s not bad. Do you think you could help me pick out something for Claire? Maybe a necklace or earrings?”
She slanted him a curious look.
“A peace offering. For this morning.”
“Buying your way out of the doghouse?”
“Whatever it takes.” They reached the end of the block. “I need to stop in at the fly shop first. I ordered vests and waders for the ranch.”
She didn’t slow her pace. “See you in a few.”
He watched her walk away and couldn’t help but notice that the way her hips swayed under the striped dress was all woman.
Damn.
The bells over the door of Feathers and Threads chimed as he walked in fifteen minutes later. He glanced around but didn’t see Sara. Maybe she was in the dressing room.
“Hey, Rita,” he called to the shop’s owner, who stood behind the counter with a young salesgirl and a cluster of customers.
He’d brought Claire here when she’d first arrived in town. His daughter had taken one look at the racks and announced she’d be buying her clothes from the Hollister website. The morning after, he’d taken Rita to coffee as an apology for Claire’s rudeness.
Too bad she’d read more into that than he’d meant. She’d all but suggested a quickie in the back room of the store. When he’d refused, she’d still found excuses to stop by the ranch several times, dropping off sparkly tops and hand-knit sweaters for Claire. To his relief, Claire had kept her snide comments to herself, and he’d been able to avoid Rita as much as possible. That was another reason he wanted to come in here at the same time as Sara—someone to distract Rita.
“Hi, Josh,” she cooed. “Can I help you with something?”
“I’m picking up a gift for Claire. I’ll look around.”
“Let me know if you have questions,” she answered and turned back to her conversation.
He silently congratulated himself and headed toward the jewelry case at the back of the store. Rita and her gaggle of customers laughed softly as he walked by. Snippets of conversation drifted his way.
“...rode hard and put away wet.”
“No wonder she can’t get work. Who’d want to see that on the big screen?”
“Is it just me or has she had her lips done?”
“Doesn’t belong in Crimson, that’s for sure.”
Josh concentrated on the necklaces as unease skated around his chest. He glanced in the small mirror above the jewelry case and spotted Sara standing behind a sale rack.
As Josh turned toward the group of women, the conversation behind the counter continued, louder now. The women made no attempt to be discreet.
“I read she was into drugs for a while,” one of the customers offered, bending forward so that Josh got too much of a view of her ample backside.
Eyes widened within the group. “Did you see track marks?”
“I can’t get past those raccoon eyes,” another woman said with a snicker.
“It looks like she hasn’t seen the sun in years,” Rita answered. “Maybe we should send her down to Nell’s salon for a makeover.”
Maybe you should shut your mouth, Josh thought. He glanced at Sara in the mirror, expecting to see steam rising from her ears. He was surprised she hadn’t come out swinging already. Instead, he watched her swipe under her eyes and return a blouse to the rack, her hand shaking a bit.
“I wouldn’t wish that hot mess on anyone,” the younger salesgirl said, sending the other women into peals of laughter.
Josh felt his blood pressure rise along with the volume of giggles. He looked back to Sara, and her gaze met his in the mirror. For a single moment her eyes were unguarded and he saw pain, raw and real, in their depths. She blinked and shuttered them, turning the glare he’d come to know so well on him in full force. She shook her head slightly and backed away from the clothes rack.
Now, he thought. Cut them down now. She turned to a display of knit tops and picked one out at random. He watched her carry it to the front of the store. The women looked her up and down, not hiding their judgment and contempt.
“Just this,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes forward. “You have some lovely things in the store.”
“They all have security tags,” Rita answered as she punched a few keys on the cash register.
“Of course.”
Josh’s temper hit the roof. How could Sara let that group of catty witches fillet her without defending herself? Where was the sarcastic, no-holds-barred woman he’d already come to expect? Hell, he hated to admit it, but he actually looked forward to their verbal sparring to break up the monotony of his day.
But this? This was total and complete bull. He grabbed two necklaces from the rack and stalked to the counter.
“What do you think of these?” he asked as he slammed them onto the glass top.
Rita jumped back an inch then pasted on a broad smile. “With Claire’s gorgeous skin the turquoise will—”
“I’m not talking to you,” he interrupted, unconcerned with how rude he sounded. “Which one, Sara?”
“The butterfly charm,” she answered immediately. “The turquoise on the other one is dime-store quality.”
“I beg your pardon?” Rita sputtered.
Sara didn’t make eye contact with either of them, only dug in her purse for a wallet.
That a girl, Josh thought. Just a little more.
“Claire trusts your opinion,” he continued conversationally. “I think she was sold the moment Gwyneth called to see what she should wear to her movie opening.”
“Gwyneth Paltrow?” the salesgirl asked, her tone taking on a fraction of respect.
Sara’s fingers tightened around her purse and she sliced a dead-meat look at him.
He forced a chuckle. “It’s like Hollywood is one big sorority.” He pointed to Sara. “Her phone is ringing every ten minutes. Julia needs to know where to find some kind of boots. Sandra’s texting about a brand of fancy-pants jeans.”
Rita raised an eyebrow at Sara. “And they’re calling you?”
When Sara didn’t answer, Josh spoke quickly, “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
Sara pulled out cash and handed it to Rita. “For the sweater.” She didn’t acknowledge Josh’s comments or Rita’s question.
Rita took the money, studying Sara. “I’m ordering for fall in a couple of weeks. Maybe you could stop by and take a look at the lines. We’re not as exclusive as Aspen, but I still want to offer current trends. I’d appreciate a fresh opinion.”
“Fresh?”