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The other woman was tight-lipped as she worked on Ginger’s hair. When she was done, she pulled out the blow dryer, keeping the conversation from resuming. She turned Ginger’s chair away from the mirror to dry the front and then she flipped the switch on the device and the room was suddenly cast into an uncomfortable silence again.
Lydia lifted her chin, then swiveled the chair around for Ginger to get a good look at her new ’do.
She gasped. “We didn’t talk about this,” she said as she stared at her reflection, shock on her face. “You always give me the same trim.”
“Yes, well, you had some split ends I needed to take care of.”
Ginger stared at her shorter locks, which sat on her shoulders. The strands were fluffy and healthy looking and the overall effect was actually quite stunning.
“Well?” Lydia demanded. “What do you think?”
Ginger was speechless for a few seconds. She’d never considered asking Lydia to take five or six inches off her hair—and instantly regretted not having her do it sooner. All that hair had been weighty, and though she’d always had bouncy curls, the thick mass had felt heavy and sometimes oppressive, particularly during the summer months with all the heat and humidity in the air.
Surprised she had to admit it, she told Lydia, “I love it.”
“Are you sure? Because if not, there’s no charge.”
Emotion swelled in Ginger’s throat. She thought of what Ryan had said about Lydia wanting children, and that softened Ginger’s heart. She also thought of her own shortcomings, one of which she’d shared with Lydia thi
s afternoon. There had to be some sort of common ground for them, if for no other reason than for Ryan’s sake.
Tears prickled the backs of her eyes as she said, “Of course I’ll pay you. And I really do love the cut. It’s perfect. I never realized I should have shorter hair. It looks fantastic, Lydia.”
“I’m glad you like it. I think it brightens your face, not that you’ve needed much help with that since my nephew returned.”
Ginger stood and slipped off the smock. Handing it over, she said, “I know you don’t approve of us. But, Lydia, do you really doubt Ryan’s judgment? And for that matter, how can you dislike someone simply because they sell lingerie? I’m actually a very nice person—ask anyone. I volunteer at the animal shelter, I attend church every Sunday before I open the boutique and I’m always willing to lend a helping hand to someone in need.”
With a sigh, Lydia said, “I don’t dislike you, Ginger. I dislike what you display on the sidewalks and in your store.”
“You’ve never even been in my store, Lydia,” she said in a more forceful tone. “Other than when you burned down the first one.”
“That was an accident,” Lydia told her in a remorseful tone. “And I am so sorry, Ginger. But as the reverend’s wife, I honestly cannot condone your wares.”
“There’s just no way you’re going to see reason in this situation, is there?” She pulled out cash from her wallet and set it on the countertop at Lydia’s station. “Well, I won’t be as stubborn as you, Lydia. Because it’s just not worth it.”
She turned sharply and marched out of the salon. As she stalked down the sidewalk to her store, she caught a glimpse of Ryan, Jack and George in front of the diner. Here was her chance to tell him she’d changed her stance on him carrying a gun.
How foolish she’d been to hinder him. And how sweet he’d been to try to set her mind at ease by not toting a gun in her presence. She owed him big time.
Ginger rushed over and threw her arms around him. “Those flowers are insane!” she gushed.
He lifted her off the ground and gave her a rigid squeeze that lasted a bit longer than she’d anticipated, which brought on an instant bought of panic.
When he released her, she demanded, “What’s wrong?”
Ryan wore a grave expression. He said, “I was just telling Jack and George that Walton Moore’s pawn shop was robbed while he was out to lunch. The surveillance cameras were on, thankfully, and we ID’d our two thieves.”
Ginger’s stomach plummeted. “No,” she said on a sharp breath. “That means they’re still here, terrorizing the town.”
“Means more than that,” George chimed in. “Ryan told us they stole cash, some jewelry and a .357 magnum.”
“Now they’re armed,” Jack stated the obvious.
She staggered backward and wrapped her arms around her waist, because now her stomach coiled so tight, it hurt.
Ryan studied her closely, gauging her reaction to the news. He used a calm tone on her as he said, “Don’t get all worked up, sweetheart. The sheriff and Dan Baker are sweeping the area, and Miller and I are going to join them as they broaden the search. We’ll find these guys.”
“That’s what worries me,” she mumbled, her voice cracking.
