Cinderella's Big Sky Groom. Christine Rimmer

Cinderella's Big Sky Groom - Christine  Rimmer


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glanced from her friend to the lawyer. She hadn’t realized they knew each other. But then again, this was Whitehorn. Everybody knew everybody. It had always been that way.

      “So what’s up?” Danielle demanded of Lynn.

      Garrison answered for her. “Just gathering information. I’ve been hired to represent the Kincaid estate, and that means Jennifer McCallum is now one of my clients.”

      “You’re here to interview Lynn about Jenny?”

      “That’s right.”

      “And there’s not much to say,” Lynn put in firmly. “Jennifer is doing just fine. She is happy, intelligent, outgoing and unstintingly adored by one and all.”

      Garrison gave her the raised eyebrow again. “Unstintingly?”

      Lynn felt…irritated, that was it. Irritated by this too-good-looking big-city lawyer, who had waltzed into her classroom, looked around as if he owned the place, acted bored to death at the mention of her sister—who might be a bit flighty, but nonetheless had stars in her eyes when it came to him—and then began giving her the third degree about Jenny. “Yes. That’s what I said. Jenny is unstintingly adored by everyone.”

      “My, my,” Danielle muttered under her breath. “Feeling feisty today, aren’t we?”

      Lynn shot her friend a quelling glance, then turned on Garrison again. “She’s a lovely child. And one of my two best students—Sara here is the other one.” She glanced at Sara, who granted her a big, proud smile.

      Ross Garrison was not smiling. “Miss Taylor. We both know that Jennifer’s been through considerable trauma.”

      “Yes. She has. And in my opinion, none of her troubles have damaged her in the least.”

      Garrison did not look convinced, but he did allow, “Fine. If you say so.”

      “I do.”

      “All right.”

      “Good.”

      Those dark eyes stared into hers again, taking her measure. Lynn stared right back at him. Finally he said, “Listen, I really would like to talk with you in a little more depth about this.”

      Danielle chuckled then. “You’ll have to wait your turn, Ross. Lynn’s going to be busy for a while. But you could meet her at the Whitehorn Beauty Salon—say, about five?”

      Lynn blinked and whirled on her friend. “The Whitehorn Salon? Wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about taking me there.”

      Danielle looked way too pleased with herself. “It was a surprise, remember?”

      “But…” Lynn couldn’t help sputtering. “But…the beauty shop? For five hours?”

      Danielle waved a hand. “Four and a half, actually. Your appointment’s at twelve-thirty.” She glanced at the clock. “And we’d better get going or we’ll be late.”

      “But Danielle—”

      The other woman cut her off by speaking to Garrison. “Like I said. Whitehorn Salon. Five o’clock. She’ll be there.”

      Lynn sputtered some more. “No. No, wait, I—”

      “Five o’clock, then,” said Ross Garrison. And before Lynn could finish objecting, he strode to the door, pushed it open and left in a swirl of brisk autumn air.

      Chapter Two

      The moment the door closed behind the lawyer, Lynn demanded of her friend, “Why did you tell him where to find me?”

      “Why not? He just wants to get up to speed about Jenny.”

      “Well, I know, but…”

      “But what?” There was a very suspicious gleam in Danielle’s eyes. “Are you scared of him, or something?”

      “Of course not.”

      “Well, I have to say, sparks certainly seemed to be flying between you two.”

      “They were not. Not in the least. A man like that is never going to look twice at someone like me.”

      “There you go. Underestimating yourself again.”

      “I am not. I’m just stating a fact. And I’m not looking twice at him, either. He’s—” She cut herself off as she realized that Sara was standing right there, taking all this in. “Never mind. I just…well, I told him all there is to tell. You heard me.”

      “Oh, come on. Let him do his job. He seems…very conscientious. And after Wendell Hargrove, Jenny deserves a lawyer who’s looking out for her interests instead of robbing her blind.”

      Sara was still staring up at them. “Mommy. Jenny’s not blind. She can see just fine.”

      Danielle smoothed her daughter’s unruly bangs back from her forehead. “It’s just an expression, honey. Jenny had a bad lawyer who took some of her money. But now that bad lawyer’s gone to jail.”

      “And that man who just left, he’s a lawyer, too?”

      “That’s right. He’s Jenny’s new lawyer.”

      “Is he a good lawyer?”

      “Yes. I’m sure he is.”

      “What’s a lawyer, anyway? And how come, if Jenny’s got one, I don’t?”

      Danielle glanced at the clock. “We’ll have to talk about that later. Right now, we need to get going.”

      To the Whitehorn Salon, Lynn thought with a considerable degree of dread. “Danielle, I don’t know about this…”

      “I do. Did you bring the red dress?”

      “Danielle. I really don’t think—”

      “Come on. Just answer me. Did you bring the dress?”

      Lynn was a little embarrassed about that dress. She’d bought it on a shopping trip to Billings just two weeks before, a shopping trip where she’d intended only to replace a few of the practical skirts and blouses that were now three sizes too large. She hadn’t meant to buy a dress like that. It had cost too much and it wasn’t the kind of thing she’d ever actually wear, anyway.

      “Lynn. The dress? Did you bring it?”

      “Yes. I brought it.”

      “And those red shoes, too?”

      Lynn huffed out a breath. The shoes had two-inch heels. Lynn was five-nine in stocking feet. She always wore flats. What in the world had possessed her to buy a pair shoes that would only make her look even taller?

      “The shoes, Lynn?” Danielle asked for the second time with clearly diminishing patience.

      “Yes, all right, I brought the shoes, too.”

      “Good. Get ’em and let’s go. You can ride with me and Sara.”

      “I can take my own—”

      Danielle grunted. “No way. You’ve got that rabbity look around the eyes. You might just drive on home instead of where I’m taking you.”

      “Danielle…”

      “Stop arguing. You’re coming with us and you can pick up your Blazer later.”

      “But Danielle. To the beauty salon?”

      “Yes. To the beauty salon. You’ve lost, what? Twenty-five pounds?”

      “Twenty-eight.”

      “You should be proud of yourself.”

      “I am proud of myself.”

      “Good. Because you look great. And for your birthday, I intend to make sure we put the


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