There was an eerie quiet to the barbershop as they walked in. Like a dream, everything was exact, as it had always been, and yet nothing was the same. A feminine warmth was missing, from the stark hardness of the shop. Jake stared up at the landing of the stairs, expecting to hear her hurried heels knocking around the top floor. If it was this hard to be in the barbershop without her, the ride out to the homestead would be pure torture. Finally, his eyes settled on Lucy as she lingered around the bottom of the steps, with her little head bowed in thought. She kicked the toe of her boot into the foundation step, before heaping herself onto it with an exasperated sigh. There would be no warm milk the way her mother made it tonight. No patient gentle hands to painstakingly pick and comb each of her onyx curls into submission before bed. The sweet velvety melodious sound of her mother's voice would not coax her into a slumbering sleep for many nights to come.
Jake took a step toward Lucy, about to whisk her up into his arms, when Izzy stirred. Her shut lids squeezed together and her nose pinched with an irritated air. Jumping into action Jake gingerly lifted Izzy from her carriage and cradled her in his arms. Her little hands stretched out grabbing hold of the front of Jake's ivory shirt. She grasped the wrinkled linen in her tiny hand, flooding his mind with memories of Teresa's departure. As the curtain of dark chocolate lashes parted, revealing two large orbs of russet amber gems, Jake felt his entire body wilt. Teresa's eyes looked up at him, wrenching his heart into pieces. As the last of Izzy's drowsiness melted away, her legs began to squirm against her swaddling blanket. Slowly Jake swayed back and forth attempting to calm her. With his free hand, he helped her to release her grasp on his shirt. He held her tiny porcelain hand in his, pressing her tiny fingers to his lips. Yet still she squirmed against him, with an irate sense of movement.
Jake pursed his lips, slightly perplexed, as he made his way to the back room behind the curtains. Straining to hold on to the fraying strands of his nerves, he lay her down in her open cradle. Mentally preparing himself, he checked her diaper, breathing a rather dramatic sigh of relief. Dry. Izzy's pink bow of a mouth, twisted once more releasing the beginnings of a white-hot fit. Frantically looking about him, he'd hardly noticed Hank shove the curtains aside. He leaned into the square alcove with his mouth stretched into a rueful grin. However, as Izzy let loose with a volatile scream, his eyes winced with discontent.
"Sounds hungry!" Hank yelled over her anguished cries.
Jake ceased in his quest placing his hands indignantly on his hips, "I can see that Hank!"
"Here Papa," Lucy walked steadily into the room holding a small bowl of prepared infant food in her outstretched hands.
Jake smoothed the back of Lucy's head as he kissed her on the forehead, "Thank you, honey."
Strenuously, Jake sat Izzy in her highchair, as she wailed loud enough to bring the whole town to its knees. He took the bowl from Lucy and proceeded to attempt to scoop small spoonfuls of the goop into Izzy's wet mouth. After five minutes of Hank's unhelpful advice and globs of mush falling form Izzy's crying mouth, Jake hung his head. Teresa had only just left and he was already in over his head. For the first time in seven years, Jake's mind pleaded for the numbing calm that could be found in the smooth amber liquid of Hank's whiskey. Hank raised a sandy brow at the expression on Jake's face. This was bad; he thought suddenly wondering where Jake's wife was.
"Where's yah woman, Jake?" Hank took a step closer to the wailing child.
Without looking up to answer, Jake raked his fingers through his hair, "her aunt's dyin'. . . She went tah be by her side."
Izzy's wails began to die down into racking sobs, as Lucy danced her fingers like rain in front of her face. Eyes swollen with fat droplets of salty tears, Izzy settled suddenly mesmerized by Lucy's playful movements. She dropped her voice down into her authoritative narrator's tone, "Once there were these two fools, who delighted in making mischief with each other. Each one tried to out do the other, by finding ways to splash the other with beer!"
Hank's mouth dropped, as Jake covered his face in his hands. While Lucy continued she wiped gingerly at Izzy's tear stained face with her dress sleeve, "Grandpaw says it got so bad, that one day, one blew up on the potty!"
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The interior of the Mercantile was a nice cool calm from the busy heat outside. Even with the wide double doors swung open, it seemed an invisible barrier held the bright waves of heat at bay. Celina propped her elbow up on the sewing table as she watched one dowdy bonneted patron after another, none to casually, pretend to shop nearby her. She could feel their eyes measuring her against the ruler that was her predecessor, Emma. Although Mr. Bray had warned her about this, and in fact relayed the entire story to her, she felt irked by the comparison. She could hear their hushed whispers as they debated over who contained the most beauty, she or Emma.
Celina continued to bury the outrage of this down in the core of her stomach. She needed this job, as she could never return to Denver again. The memories of what she had done sent a chilled ripple of shame up her slender back. Shaking her head, she attempted to erase those storming scenes from her past. With a sigh, her mossy green eyes settled on Mr. Bray's stern stare. He was beginning to regret his decision to bring her here. She wasn't bringing in the sort of business he had hoped for. Eyes darting back down to his cash box, he closed the tin lid, before locking it.
"Um, yah know Ms. Marrow," Loren began rubbing his chin, "might help if yah mingled ah bit with the customers."
She nodded about to rise, when the storm of a child's feet raced into the store, followed by the tired footfalls of her father. Celina froze where she sat completely in awe of the man's presence as he swayed through the doors. His black boot-flared slacks tailored nicely to his narrow hips as he sauntered up to the counter, addressing Loren. Her eyes drank in the fine strong arch of his back, under the wrinkled satin of his charcoal gray vest. With his back to her, the baby in his arms watched her over his shoulder. Her wavy tresses flared with the hue of saffron flowers and her skin was drastically pale, even for one so fair. Celina felt her heart flutter as she absently curled her white finger around her own ruby locks.
"What're you so dressed up for?" Loren smirked, eyeing Jake's dress clothes.
"Nothing, this all that's left that don't got spit up on it," Jake sighed with a strong exhale. His hand rubbed Izzy's small back as she stuck her fingers in her mouth. "She ain't eatin' much."
Celina nibbled on her bottom lip trying to will this man to turn around. She was about to give up hope when a small child bounced up in front the sewing table. Her opalescent blue gray eyes survey her with suspicious question. Celina looked from the ebony haired girl to her auburn haired father and back. The girl's skin was a light café au lait shade of cream, which complimented her soft round features. And her round blushed lips curled up into a rather fetching grin.
"Are you the new seamstress, everyone is talking about?" her brows rose.
"Lucy!" Jake turned around seething under the brim of his black hat.
Celina snapped her attention back to the man whose face had been eluding her for so long. His eyes flickered with the same luster as the little beauty, which was now pursing her lips and shifting her gaze between her father and Celina. She was taken aback by the square narrowness of his jaw, and the rather inviting shape of his curled round lips. Although he seemed not to notice her, he delicately asked that Lucy apologize.
"I'm sorry," she smiled completely unfazed. "So what's your name? I'm Lucy."
"Celina," she gave the child a wiry smile. "And who's this?"
"Jake Slicker Ma'am," Jake nodded to her with the same curl of the mouth as his daughter.
"He's the mayor too," Lucy beamed proudly, before the candy jars caught her attention. Loren followed close behind her, crinkling a sheet of parchment into a cone.
"Mayor?" Celina smiled showing just a hint of her teeth. She stood and walked around the sewing table closing the gap between them. "And this little darling?"
Jake repositioned Izzy in his arms so she could see the woman addressing her. "This is Izzy."
"She certainly is a beauty. And she looks just like you," Celina's murky green spheres peered up into his own. Now that she was close to him, she could smell the faint scent of leather, Spanish cigars, and musky shaving tonic. And an underlining fragrance of roses, which seemed to be fading away. She observed the smoothness of his alabaster skin as it stretched around his strong neck. It was then that she noticed he was watching her with some degree of uncertain alarm. He took a step back pinning himself against the counter.
"I'll put it on your account, Jake," Loren broke in as he handed Lucy a basket filled with infant food, soap, and Lucy's bouquet of sugar candy. "Fraid Hank bought the last of my cigars yesterday. . . So when'da think Teresa will be comin back?"
Jake cleared his throat turning awkwardly away from Celina. "Just got a wire from her this mornin'. Her aunt died in her sleep. She'll be away for the rest of the week, looks like."
"S'ah shame," Loren shook his head. He peeked up at Celina as she strolled over to the threshold of the wide doorway.
Izzy began to fidget in Jake's arms, turning her head into his chest with a growing agitation. Jake pushed her up so that her cheek rested against his. He frowned with concern as he and Loren exchanged worried glances. "She feels a little warm."
"It's a warm day. No sense frettin' over weather," Loren gently pressed his bent fingers to Izzy's cheek. "Maybe tah be on the safe side."
Jake nodded gesturing for Lucy to walk ahead of him, where he could see her. As they passed the threshold, Jake nodded to Celina without looking her in the face. There was deep unease vibrating between them that he couldn't place. With his free hand, he reached out and took hold of Lucy's dress sleeve as they crossed the busy street to the shaded walk of the clinic. Jake shuddered inwardly, as he lead Lucy towards the clinics door. He could feel her eyes on him, and he wished for all the world that Teresa would come home soon.