“My curiosity, I suppose.” Bernice coughed. “Bailey’s called me, oh, four or five times, wondering if I’d heard from you. I don’t think she believed me when I said I didn’t know where you were. She seemed pretty upset.” A whoosh of air echoed as Bernice exhaled. “Look, it probably ain’t my business, but did you two have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” Harper said dryly. “To be honest, I’m avoiding her until I get a better handle on the situation.”

“I understand completely. Anything I can do?”

“No. Real sweet of you to ask, Bernice. I appreciate it.”

“Well, I ain’t made no secret of the fact I worry about you, Harper. Care about you as if you were my own kid.”

Harper’s eyes watered and she managed a hoarse “Thanks.”

“Anyway, I am callin’ for my own reasons. I’ve gotta take Bob to the doctor in Cheyenne tomorrow and I’m scheduled to have the Beauty Barn open. I’ve canceled my clients, but I’m expecting a big shipment from a beauty supply store in Colorado in the afternoon and someone’s gotta be here to sign for it or else they won’t deliver. Since I paid the damn rush shipping charges . . .”

“Say no more. I’ll be back in town to open at noon.”

A pause. “Back in town? Where are you?”

“Casper.”

“You’re not at Bran Turner’s place?”

I wish. “No. Since Les is all healed up, I’m done working for Bran, so I’m looking for a full-time job.”

“I’ll be back around five tomorrow, with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses so you can tell me just what the hell is goin’ on in your life that’s sent you running.”

Tears surfaced again. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Thanks, Harper.” Bernice hung up.

Harper set aside the classified ads. So much for filling out job applications first thing in the morning. She clicked off the TV and the light. She stared at the patterns in the acoustic ceiling tiles, listening to the clacking of the heater register for the longest time before she finally drifted off.

And she dreamt of him anyway. Foolish, girlish dreams that had no basis in reality—in her life or in the life of anyone she’d ever known. Sappy Disney dramas that always turned out perfectly in the end. The fact was, Bran wouldn’t barrel up to her crappy rental house in his dirty pickup, confess his undying love for her, and they’d drive off into the sunset together.

Another thing her silly dreams got wrong—she wasn’t looking for a man to rescue her. Or to take care of her. She wanted a man to love her for her. For who she was on the inside, not the outside. She’d hoped Bran was that man. He still might be. But she was too emotionally raw right now to find out.

So maybe it was childish the next day that she hid her car behind the Beauty Barn so neither Bailey nor Bran would see it.

Since Bernice had rescheduled her hair appointments, there wasn’t much for Harper to do, which drove her crazy. She’d never been the type to sit around. So she dusted. Vacuumed. Cleaned the smoky haze off the mirrors. Washed a load of towels. Cleaned the bathroom and the break room. When the inventory boxes arrived via the UPS man, she logged them in, but she didn’t unpack anything because Bernice preferred to do it.

She’d settled behind the front counter with her pen and the classified ads, waiting for Bernice to return, when the door chimed. Harper glanced up as Janie Fitzhugh sailed into the beauty shop.

“Please tell me Bernice is working,” Janie pleaded. She pointed at her own head of hair. “It’s awful, isn’t it? Looks like I brushed it with a currycomb.”

“I’m sorry—Bernice is gone. She’ll be here tomorrow.”

“But I can’t wait that long. I have business meetings, and I don’t know what to do with this stupid stuff besides shave it off.”

“Ack. Don’t do that. Do what I do.”

“What’s that?”

“Disguise it.”

“How?”

“Wear a hat or a scarf or a headband. Then people will believe you’re chic and classy or whimsical, not that you’re overdue for a haircut.”

Janie snapped her fingers. “That’s a great idea. Got any suggestions on how to help this mop of hair look chic?”

Harper considered Janie. From the accessories counter she selected a wide leather and metal headband with funky copper stars threaded through the elastic straps. “Try this.” She slid the ends of the headband behind Janie’s elfin ears, pushing the thickest part up her forehead. The headband tamed hanks of hair hanging in Janie’s eyes. “See how you like that.”

Janie angled the mirror to see Harper’s handiwork. Her mouth dropped open. “That looks fantastic. Wow. Totally fixed the problem. I could probably avoid a haircut for another month.”

“Which is why that’s not a trick I usually share with Bernice’s customers,” Harper said dryly. “Then again, Bernice’s Beauty Barn clients aren’t always open to something new.”

“Pity your talents are being wasted here, Harper.” Janie fussed with the hair behind the headband.

“Wasted. Right.”

“I’m serious. How much is this headband?”

“Fifteen bucks.”

“But I can only wear it with brown. So if I needed one to wear with a black outfit . . . ?”