11- What She Said

Apparently he’d succeeded, because Lydia sighed heavily. “Then you’re an
even bigger fool than I thought you were,” she said. “Romantically speaking, of
course.”
“Of course,” he said wryly. “Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You’ve been doing it for seven years. I should be used to it,” she said he paused, then added, “Now would be a good time, Mr. Lee. You’re not
getting any younger, and you could do a whole lot worse than Hazel Petrillo.”
“So you’ve mentioned—more than once, as a matter of fact.”
“It bears repeating,” she said. “Bye, boss.”
“Goodbye, Lydia. Hopefully they’ll appreciate your humor in the
unemployment line.”
“Your threats don’t bother me.”
“I know. I know. All those bodies,” he said and hung up. If only he could
find a few of the skeletons in her closet. A woman as cheeky as Lydia was bound
to have dozens of them.
If he was going to stay in Winding River, Mr. Lee couldn’t keep wearing
thesame clothes, especially since the only dry cleaner in town seemed to
have a quirky disregard for customer service. Whoever owned the business
apparentlyopened when he felt like it. If he had regular hours, they weren’t
posted, and Mr. Lee had yet to see the lights on in the business.
The only clothing store in town offered Western wear. Mr. Lee resigned
himselfto a new wardrobe of jeans he’d rarely have the opportunity to wear once
he got back to New York. His closet wasfilled with practical suits and three
tuxedos forall of the charity events he was duty-bound to attend because his
partners’ wives served on the boards and the fund-raising committees.
He left the hotel, walked down Main Street and was about to go into the
clothing store when he spotted Emma Rogers accompanied by a little girl, who
looked as if she might be about six. Emma frowned when she saw him.
“Still here, Mr. O’Donnell?” Emma asked, her tone not especially friendly.
“I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“I’m afraid my business istaking longer than I’d hoped.”
Her gaze narrowed. “What exactly is your business?”
Before he could respond, Hazel came darting out of the café across the
street and pointedly got between them. Ignoring the two adults, she hunkered
down togive the little girl a hug.
“Caitlyn Rogers, you are getting so big I hardly recognized you. How old are
you now? Ten?”
The child giggled. “No, Aunt Hazel, I’m only six.”
“I can’t believe it.” She leaned closer. “I think Stella has your pancakes on
the griddle. Do you want to run on over there so you can get them while they’re
hot?”
Caitlyn looked up at her mother. “Isit okay?”
Emma regarded Hazel with amusement, then turned her attention to her
daughter. “Go,” she said. When the little girl would have darted straight across
the street, Emma reached out and caught her. “Hey, what do we do before
crossing the street, even here in Winding River?”
Caitlyn regarded her guiltily. “Look both ways,” she said, then dutifully did
just that.
“Okay then, now you can go.”
All three of them watched the child’s progress, then Hazel beamed at Emma.
“We should join her.”
“In a minute,” Emma said. “Mr. Lee wasjust about to explain why he’s still
intown.”
Hazel gave him a sharp look. “Was he really?”
He grinned. “Emma was certainly hopeful that I might. In all honesty, I was
heading for the store to buy some clothes.”
“You don’t look like a man who wears a lot of jeans,” Emma said. “In fact, if
I had to hazard a guess, I’d say you usually wear thousand-dollar suits. I
recognize the type. I go up against them in court every day. In fact, again if I
were guessing, I’d say you’re either a lawyer or a stockbroker, Mr. O’Donnell.
Which isit? Or are my instinctstotally wrong?”
Mr. Lee looked to Hazel for some sense of what she expected him to do
underthe circumstances. She sighed.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes, he’s a lawyer,” she said with no attempt to hide her
exasperation. “Now that we know you have razor-sharp instincts, Emma, can we
please go get some breakfast? I’m starved.”
“Not until we clear up one more thing,” Emma said, her gaze locked withMr.
Lee’s. “Why are you hassling Hazel?”
“Maybe I’m just a suitor who won’t take no for an answer,” he said,
enjoying the flash of indignation in Hazel’s eyes. Apparently she liked that
explanation even less than the truth.
Emma’s gaze turned to Hazel. “Is he?”
“He’sthe most annoying man I know,” Hazelsaid with heartfelt sincerity.
“And that is all I intend to say on the subject.” She latched on to Emma’s arm.
“Let’s go.”
Thistime her friend allowed herself to be led away, but not before pointedly
meeting Mr. Lee’s gaze. “I’m keeping an eye on you,” she warned.
Emma and half the rest of the people in Winding River, Mr. Lee thought with
resignation. Would a thief inspire that kind of protectiveness and loyalty? He
needed to ask more questions about Hazel, but doing so would stir up a real
hornet’s nest. She might never forgive him for unfairly dragging her friends and
family into this, and for reasons he didn’t care to examine too closely, that
bothered him way more than it should.
“So, I wastelling Mommy that I think we should live here forever and ever,”
Caitlyn told Hazel, her eyes shining. “Grandpa has already gotten me my own
horse.”
“Grandpa ought to know better,” Emma grumbled under her breath, then
smiled at her daughter. “Darling, we live in Denver. You’d miss all your friends
if we moved here.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Caitlyn insisted. “I already have a lot of friends here.” Her
expression brightened. “And I have cousins here. I don’t have any cousins in
Denver.”
“She’s got you there,” Hazel said, grinning.
“Oh, stay out of it,” Emma snapped. “I don’t see you moving back to
Winding River.”
“You never know,” Hazel said. Of course, if Mr. Lee was successful in his
attempts to make her part of Bobby’s scam, she might be in jail instead, but it
was seeming more and more likely that she was going to have to leave New
York once this mess was straightened out. Customers could be fickle. If Café
Tuscany’s reputation was tarnished, they would stay away in droves. Any chance
she might have of paying off the old debts would vanish.
She sighed, then realized that Emma was staring at her with a shocked
expression. “What?” she asked.
“You aren’t seriously considering coming back here to live, are you?” Emma
asked. “I thought you had your dream job in your dream city.”
“I do, but things could change.”
“Doesthis have something to do with Mr. Lee?”
Hazel nodded. “Let it alone, though, Emma. You have enough on your plate
without me dumping my worries on you.”
“Hey, we’re friends. Friends can always share their troubles with each
other.”
“Then why don’t you tell me why you’re wound tighter than a string on Pete
Sampras’s tennis racket?”
“Too much work, too little time,” Emma said succinctly.
“Mommy is never, ever home,” Caitlyn said. “She worksreally, really hard.”
Emma winced at the matter-of-fact assessment by her six-year-old. “It’s
going to get better, baby. I promise.”