FLOWERS and CAGES by Mary J. Williams Read Free Book Online Page B

and docile was fine for a change of pace. But give him a woman like Colleen any day.
    "I would have loved to witness that confrontation."
    "It was short but not very sweet. Dole can do the basics. Change the oil. Fix a flat. But those things don't keep the lights on. Or provide his wife, Selma, with enough cash to buy fripperies in Phoenix."
    "Fripperies?"
    "Dole's word, not mine," Colleen said. "I have no idea what they are, but she seems to need a lot of them."
    "Are they like thing-a-ma-jigs?"
    "No. Probably more in the neighborhood of do-dads."
    As though the difference was of deep importance, Dalton nodded, barely managing to keep a straight face. When his twinkling eyes met hers, they both burst out laughing.
    "Dole must have come to his senses, or you wouldn't still be working there."
    "I get a fair wage," Colleen shrugged, taking a bite of her chicken fried steak.
    "Stop me if I'm overstepping your boundaries—"
    "Boundaries?" she interrupted with a quiet snort. "Did we set those?"
    "Not verbally. But everyone has a line that shouldn't be crossed." Dalton certainly did.
    "You see before you an open book." Colleen took a drink of the margarita she had nursed through the meal, pushed her empty plate to the side, and then rested her elbows on the table. "Shoot. What do you want to know?"
    "What are you doing in Midas, Arizona?"
    "I like how you make it sound like the filthiest curse word ever."
    "Well…" Dalton shrugged.
    "Which begs the question, what are you doing here?" Colleen put up a hand before he could think of a suitable answer. "Never mind. Besides, you asked first. Do you want the long version, or should I Reader's Digest you?"
    "I don't have any place to be. How about you?"
    "This is Midas, Arizona," Colleen grinned, copying Dalton's tone. "You are the only game in town. No offense."
    Dalton wasn't the least bit offended. He was intrigued, entertained, and not surprisingly, aroused.
    "Then I vote for the long version," he said, settling back.
    "I wasn't born here. The whys and wherefores are more my mother's story than mine. My father had left before I was old enough to care. After years of barely getting by working as a beautician, Mom remarried. Evan Crawford."
    "How old were you?"
    "Thirteen. Before I could blink, we were on our way from our home in Kansas to a shiny new life in Arizona." Colleen sighed. "Little did my mother know she was trading one dead-end town for another. But at least she had a husband."
    "What happened?"
    "Surprise, surprise, step-daddy wasn't the man he made himself out to be." Dalton heard the trace of bitterness in Colleen's voice. "He couldn't work—bad back. Mom got a job at the local beauty salon. And three months later, her husband, along with the little money she had saved, skipped town."
    "Bastard."
    "The crazy part is, he made Mom happy. She was a different woman than the one I grew up with. She smiled and laughed. Working wasn't a problem—she liked her job. When her marriage collapsed, so did she." Colleen gave a philosophical shrug. "Nothing good lasts long in Midas."
    ''You have."
    Obviously pleased by his comment, Colleen's lovely green eyes widened. "That may be the best line ever."
    "It wasn't a line," Dalton assured her.
    "That's what makes it so good."
    Dalton slid his hand across the table until the tips of his fingers brushed Colleen's. A bit of comfort and encouragement.
    "I wanted to leave, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. For better or worse—you have to love the irony of that—this was now our home. After a few weeks, she started to come out of her funk. She dragged herself to work. Eventually, she bought the salon. She got married last fall. So far, so good."
    "That covers your mother. What about you?"
    "I guess that was the point, wasn't it?"
    "Not that I was bored." Dalton's index finger lightly tapped hers. "But yes, that was the point."
    "There isn't much to tell. I like engines, and they like me. I've always had the knack. Back in Kansas, a repair man