He was grateful to have a big cooking job ahead to take his mind off things. He was making his lists, getting out his recipes. And he stopped shaving his head the day she left. Within four days a cap of short black hair covered his dome. "What's going on with this?" Mel laughed, reaching up and rubbing a hand over his bristly, dark head. "Head's cold," he said. "I like it. Do you grow it in every winter?" "Head hasn't been this cold on other winters," he said. And he hadn't been infatuated with a woman who had cut hair for a living other winters, either. "Have you told Paige you have hair on your head?" "Why would I do that?" he asked her. She shrugged. "I guess things that pass as news to women are not quite as interesting to men," she said. "Have you heard from her this week?" she asked. "She called. She says they're having a nice visit. Her friend has a dog and Chris is crazy about the dog." He wiped down the counter. "You think a dog would get in the way around here?" She laughed at him. "Preacher, what's that matter? You just miss them so much?" "Nah, it's all good," he said. "Paige hasn't seen her friend in years." "He's killing me," Mel told Jack. "Look at him-he's miserable. He's so in love with her he can't think. But will he say anything? To anyone? And seeing him without that little blond angel riding his shoulders is kind of like seeing him with an amputation. He needs to call her-tell her he misses her." Jack lifted an eyebrow and peered at his wife. "You don't want to get into that," he said. "He might try to break your jaw." At
( Robyn Carr )
[ Shelter Mountain ]
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