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“It’s nice of you to walk over and introduce yourself,” Talulah said. “I was wondering if I’d get to meet you.”
One thin eyebrow slid up. “You’ve already heard of me?”
Talulah couldn’t resist laughing, especially since she could tell Ellen wasn’t all that surprised to think people were talking about her. “I ran into Brant this morning. He mentioned you weren’t exactly on the best of terms with my great aunt.”
Ellen took a drag of her cigarette while considering Talulah’s response. “Yeah, well, I won’t lie to you. I didn’t care much for her. She was the reason I took up smoking. I needed something to calm my nerves. But—” she formed her china-doll face into a more sympathetic expression “—if you loved her, I’m sorry for your loss.” She handed over the wine while being careful to blow her cigarette smoke in the opposite direction.
Talulah read the label: Orin Swift Papillon. “Thank you.”
“Call it a bribe,” she said. “I’m hoping you’ll like me better than your great aunt did, and I can finally have some peace.”
Although Talulah laughed again, she could tell Ellen was only partly joking. “You don’t have to worry about me. I figure you’ve been through enough. Would you like to come in?”
She wrinkled her button nose. “Are you kidding? It’s too fucking hot in there.”
Wiping the sweat running down the side of her face, Talulah gestured at the wicker chairs on the porch. “What if we sit out here?”
“It’s hot here, too. But I might as well stay until I finish my cigarette.”
“When I was growing up, there was an older couple who lived on the adjacent property,” Talulah said. “My great aunt actually liked them. She used to take them various things she’d canned—peaches and dill pickles and beets. And the man would come over and fix a leaky faucet now and then or shovel her walks in the winter, that sort of thing.”
“That had to be my grandpa. He’d do anything for anybody. It’s too bad you didn’t get to know him. How often did you visit your aunt?”
“Often enough. I grew up in Coyote Canyon.”
“I didn’t realize that. When I saw you pull into the garage, I thought you were family from out of town, coming to take care of things.”
“That’s basically what’s happening. But I’m familiar with the town because I lived here until I graduated from high school. Then I went to San Diego State University,” Talulah explained. “I wanted to spend a few years close to the beach.”
“What kind of degree did you get?”
“None. Regular college wasn’t for me. After two and a half years, I dropped out and enrolled in culinary school in Denver.”
Ellen got up to flick her ashes over the porch railing. “Did you like that better?”
“Much better. I now own a dessert diner, together with a partner, in Seattle. We specialize in fancy cakes, pies and other pastries.”
“Sounds like you found your calling.”
“Feels that way.” Talulah watched Ellen closely, trying to figure out what about her had attracted Brant. Was it because she looked like a hard chick in the sea of softer good girls who made a play for him?
If so, her sweet-faced sister, who’d never dream of getting a tattoo, let alone wearing a nose ring, never had a chance. “What’s your story?” she asked. “How’d you come to live in such a sleepy town—and on the property next to my mother’s peevish aunt?”
“When my grandparents moved to Phoenix two years ago, they offered me their house.”
“That was nice of them.”
“I like it. And I immediately added air-conditioning. So if you get too uncomfortable over here, feel free to come on over.”
“I would take you up on that, except it’d be pretty hard to sort through things from there. Where’d you live before Coyote Canyon?”
“Anaconda. Have you heard of it? It’s a small town, too, only about an hour from here.”
“I’ve heard of it, but I would’ve guessed somewhere more like LA...”
“Because I don’t look like I fit into any small town, especially one in Montana, but that’s okay. I don’t care what people think.”
“Why didn’t you choose somewhere like Bozeman? Judging by what my sister just told me, folks there might be a bit more open-minded.”
