Page 20 of Weatherman

I was finishing up the last of the Coates triplets. The two ten-year-old girls and one boy were into competitive swimming and spent a lot of time in chlorinated water. I treated them with an apple cider vinegar rinse followed by a deep argan oil conditioner before I did the trimming.

I wondered when I should look into getting swim lessons for Pearl as I whipped the cape from Morgan’s shoulders. “All done, kiddo. I hope your meet this weekend goes well.”

The kid hopped down and darted to join his sisters.

“I got a big favor to ask you,” Betsey said as I picked up the broom.

“You bet. What can I do for you?”

“Weatherman’s mom ain’t doin’ too good. Them cancer treatments are takin’ a lot outta her. He said her hair has all fallen out. I want to get her a nice wig, but I don’t know nothin’ about them. Tambre said you helped a client get one a while back. Can you help me?”

Weatherman’s mom has cancer?This was news to me, but then again, I hadn’t seen much of the man since his bar rescue. Shop gossip said he’d taken a job with the forestry service and was working as a ranger and volunteer firefighter. The physical stamina test was tough, but Weatherman had passed it. I wasn’t surprised. He didn’t appear to be out of shape.

I dumped the hodgepodge of hair trimmings in the trash can next to my station. “I’ll be glad to help as I can. I have a friend from school who works with a wigmaker. She told me hand-tied human hair ones are the most comfortable and versatile, plus with good care, they can last up to a year. They’re also the most expensive, though.”

Betsey let out an odd“Psshht” sound, and her nails clicked as she wiggled her fingers in a dismissive gesture. “The cost don’t concern me. Takin’ care of my people does. Can you get me a pretty one similar to what her real hair used to look like? I have some pictures.”

She pulled up Facebook on her phone and scrolled through several images until she found the one she wanted. I saw an older woman with light brown and gray hair cut in a classic pageboy style with blunt bangs in front. Perfect to hide the netting seam. It was a simple look that wouldn’t take a lot of extra time to maintain. A younger teenage Weatherman with a high school letter jacket stood hugging her from behind. There was no denying that he got his good looks from his mom.

“What’s her name?” I asked.

“Natalie. Natalie Turner. It’s just been her and her son for a long time. When Weatherman joined us, she came along too.”

Something clicked into place. He’d been short-tempered the morning he found me with the flat tire. Of course, my gut reaction then didn’t help, but it made sense now. His mom was sick. I had no relationship with my own mother, but I saw what it was supposed to be like when I lived with my friend Mama Jin Minnesota. That woman would give her life to save her kids—and nearly did one night last winter. Weatherman must have been feeling this deep with his mother. This probably affected everything in him.

The women of the Dragon Runners MC were also prime examples of motherhood. Betsey took everyone under her wing no matter what. Tambre, Molly, Kat, Eva, Psalm, Lori—all of them showed such family devotion and care as I’d never seen in any other bunch of people. It was humbling. I understood a new restaurant owner in town, Fauna, was on her way to becoming part of this group as well.

At one time in my life, I thought I had a big family with the Dutchmen MC. I’d wanted it to be true and craved it like I was starving. I was so close to having it, but then it was ripped away one snowy night. I’d resolved myself to never realizing that dream, but it was nice to see other people living it, I guess.

I had too many sins in my past to ever have a golden future.

“I’ll make some inquiries and email you some pics,” I told Betsey. “I’ll make sure Natalie gets the best.”

She smiled. “I knew I could count on you. We’re so damn lucky you decided to make our mountain town your new home.”

I got a little flustered at the praise from the MC queen. Part of me liked that I was appreciated. It was rare that anyone did. The other part of me had red flags flaring like crazy. Usually when someone gave me compliments, there was a hidden motive.

Fortunately, the bell rang again, and I turned to the new customer as Betsey waved goodbye. It was a man I’d not see before in the salon. He was attractive, but in a wholesome boy-next-door kind of way, not the drop-dead-gorgeous-rebel vibe I got from Weatherman. He was slightly taller than me with a slim build, pleasant face, dark hair, and brown eyes that peered at me from behind wire-framed glasses. “You must be Opal. My sister,Agatha, has bugged me for weeks to come get a haircut from you. I’m Pastor Robert Tisdale.”

Oh shit! Uh… shoot.“Nice to meet you… um… Pastor.”

He smiled with a slow blink. Not one of those sexy, cunning blinks. One that radiated kindness and understanding, like a big brother or therapist. It was nice.

“Nice to meet you too. Most people call me Bob or Bobby. Do you have time now, or should I make an appointment?”

My next color was in an hour. “I have time now. Please.” I gestured to my chair. “Do you need a shampoo or just a cut?”

“I washed it this morning. It should be fine, but thanks for asking.”

That serene smile stayed on his face as he sat, and I draped the cape over him. I noticed there were several sets of eyes stealing glances at him over magazine covers and cell phones. I saw one woman take a few pictures. Didn’t any of these women have lives outside the salon?

I combed through his thick dark hair. His cut was basic layers and not complicated at all. He sat still as I threaded the strands through my fingers to get an idea for how they would lie.

“I hope you don’t mind me coming in like this. Aggie has been on my case for me to come meet you. I’m hoping she’ll back off now that I have.” His eyes sparkled. “Dare I admit, she was right? You are a very pretty lady.”

Heat filled my cheeks. Seriously? Me? Blushing? I didn’t think it was possible. “Thank you, Pastor… Pastor Robert. Preacher?”

He laughed. “I’m just Bobby.”

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