Firelight at Mustang Ridge (9 page)

Shelby dove into the racks, going straight for
RED
CARPET
and hooting when she pulled out a sequined
gold dress that was backless and most of the way frontless, with little more than two narrow strips covering the non-PG territory. “Take a look at this one! It looks like all its fabric slid south.”

“Don't even think about wearing it to the wedding,” Jenny advised. “Mom would make you put an apron on over it.”

Shelby pretended to consider it. “The cute one Gran's got with the dancing peppers on it would make a statement, don't you think?”

“If the statement you're going for is ‘I cook naked,' maybe.”

“Hm.”

Deciding she wasn't getting into that debate, Danny went for the sundresses, but found them more tie-dyed than sassy, at least for her taste. “Okay, Date Night it is,” she announced, and moved down a rack.

“What about Fun and Flirty?” Krista asked from a little farther down, where she was holding up a suede-fringed denim jacket in a full-length mirror.

“We'll see. I'm not sure I'm that kind of girl.”

“Hey, you're on vacation. You can be whatever kind of girl you want to be.”

“You should use that in your advertising.”

“We do, sort of,” Shelby said. Holding up a ball gown that had peacock feathers sewn onto it, fanning from a narrow point at her crotch to a full spray across the bodice and shoulders, she added, “What do you think?”

“That you look like the NBC logo,” Jenny said with a mock scowl. “And that you're not taking this seriously. What gives? When Nick and I got married, you took one look at my dress, gave me three options for
your and Krista's maid-of-honor dresses, and told me to pick one.”

“Yeah, but you had a dress I could use as a starting point.” Shelby made an evil face. “I'll buckle down when Krista does.”

“Hey! No fair.” Krista hung the fringed jacket on a nearby coat hook that bore a sign reading
COOL THINGS
I'M GOING TO TRY ON
.
“I've got everything under control. The menu is set, the cake is ordered, and the gazebo is finished. I've even got my vows written!”

“But no dress.”

“Oh, shut up.” Looking a little frantic, she turned to Danny as if to enlist support. But then she did a double take at the dress she was holding up. “Ooh, pretty!”

“You think?” Danny stroked the vivid blue-green fabric, enjoying the subtle diamond pattern and the way the Grecian-style top had a strap over one shoulder, but left the other bare.

“Absolutely.” Jenny held up her hands and formed a square shape with her thumbs and index fingers, as if framing her for a photo shoot. “Look how it picks up the lights of your skin and the darks of your hair and eyes.”

“Thus speaks the photog,” Shelby intoned. Then she grinned. “But she's totally right. Here.” She nudged Danny toward the mirror Krista had been using. “Check it out.”

Danny obligingly put herself in front of the mirror. And stared.

The rehab hospital had been plastered with shiny, reflective surfaces, like it would've been counterproductive for the patients to forget that they were pale, pasty
versions of themselves. Even back home, she had felt wan and drained. But now . . . “Wow.” It was a whisper, little more than a breath.

Krista came up beside her in the mirror, her eyes kind, as if she got that this wasn't just about the dress. “You'll look amazing in it.”

Danny didn't know about that, but all of a sudden she was herself again. She recognized the gypsy-dark ringlets that had driven her crazy until they went flat and lifeless, the familiar lines of muscle in shoulders that had been thin and wasted. And, most of all, she saw the spark that had been missing, the healthy tan and the restrained energy that said she was poised to move at a moment's notice, ready to try anything.

Maybe it was a different “anything” now. But at least it was something.

“You have
got
to try that on.” Shelby propelled her toward the curtained-off corner. “And it's a Girl Zone rule that you have to come out and show us, even if it looks completely whack.”

“
Especially
if it looks whack,” Jenny clarified, pretending to get her phone ready to take a picture. Or, quite possibly, not pretending at all.

“Okay, okay.” Danny threw up her hands. “But the first person to shove a pair of nosebleed heels under the door is going to be eating them.”

Krista made a cross-my-heart gesture. Jenny, on the other hand, perked up and said, “So the second person is safe?”

“Oh, go shop. Unless you're thinking it would be good to take the Naked Chef idea to the next level and declare it a Naked Wedding?”

Shelby whooped as Danny swept through into the changing room. Through the curtains, she heard the others move off with comments like “Mom would have a cow if she thought we were serious about having a naked wedding” from Krista and “What if we just pretended for a couple of days to freak her out?” from Jenny.

Meanwhile, Danny stood for a second with the pretty dress clutched in her arms, and counted to ten while the dressing room tried to close in around her and the air went thin. Which was just stupid. The walls were curtains, not solid rock, and the cubicle was open above her head, all the way up to the ceiling. This wasn't a chimney, and the ceiling wasn't a slice of sky sandwiched between two cliff walls, getting darker and darker as the cold seeped in.
Breathe, darn it!
She was stronger than this.

“Here.” A hand appeared under the curtain to place a pair of heels inside the dressing room, and Krista added, “Jenny said we're all the same size, and you won't break your neck walking on the grass. Besides, what's the fun of modeling a dress in hiking boots?”

And
poof
! The panic disappeared.

Danny was in a store, not a crisis, and her friends were right outside. Able to breathe again, able to speak again, she said, “That depends on your definition of ‘fun,' I guess.” It came out only a little wobbly.

“You ready to come out and do a twirl?” Shelby demanded.

“Did you guys find your dresses yet?”

“Ha!”

With her balance more or less restored, Danny shucked off her clothes, surprised anew at the image in the
mirror—not just the reappearance of the subtle curves and muscles she had been missing without really realizing it, but the way her skin had taken on an all-over rosy tan. Thinking,
You've come a long way, baby
, she drew the dress on over her head and tugged it down to demurely brush her ankles while rising high on the sides, with slits that darn near showed the goods.

“I don't know,” she began, then turned to the side and looked in the mirror. And stared. “Okay, I totally take that back.”

The dress was a knockout. It clung to her breasts, accentuated her waist, and made her look like a better version of herself. She had a feeling it would've looked awesome on just about anybody it came close to fitting, but filed that under gift horses and mouths as she stuck her feet in the shoes Krista had brought her. High but not ridiculous, the black heels had diamond patterns of turquoise beads on each toe, and did good things to the glimpses of thigh and calf that showed through the side slits.

“Okay, fine,” she called. “You guys win.” Flinging aside the curtain, she swept out, did a few steps of wiggle-wiggle runway walk, and struck a pose. “Whaddya think?”

The others produced a satisfying chorus of whistles, and Jenny said, “Woo-hoo! The single guys of Three Ridges are going to swallow their tongues when they get a load of you.”

“I think I know one a little closer to home who's already taking a second look.” Krista wiggled her eyebrows. “Or was that someone else who had her head together with Sam the other day at the Sears place?”

Danny fought a blush as the others did a “wooooo” in harmony. She had known it would probably come up, figuring guy talk was a requirement during girl time. “That was me,” she confirmed with a little kick of pride. “We're going out tomorrow.”

“Ha! I knew it!” Krista danced in, gave her a little twirl that nearly put her on her ass in the pretty shoes. “Sam is the best. We've been dying for him to get with somebody who likes him for himself, and doesn't care about the money.”

“Didn't even know about it when we met,” Danny said, holding up a hand like she was swearing it.

“You both love being outdoors,” Jenny added, getting a considering look in her eyes. “You're smart, tough, and don't waste time worrying about what other people think. Yeah. I can totally see it. Who knows? You might be just what he needs to knock him out of his rut.”

Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask.
“What rut?”

“Jen-ny,” Krista said warningly. “You're going to scare her off.”

“Danny doesn't believe in being scared,” Jenny said staunchly. “Which could make her perfect for a guy who makes the ideal boyfriend until things get too serious. At which point, he bails.”

“Or, more accurately, withdraws until the woman dumps him,” Shelby added.

“You guys!” Krista practically wailed.

“It's okay,” Danny said, though she wasn't sure if it really was or not. The air had gotten suddenly thinner, the floor less solid beneath her strappy shoes. “I'm only going to be here for a few months, tops.”

“That's what I said when I first got here,” Shelby pointed out, and Jenny nodded solemnly and said, “Me, too.”

Krista glared at them, then said to Danny, “They're just trying to get you going. We love you and we love Sam, and we'll stay out of it. Right, ladies?”

“Sure thing,” Jenny said, then winked. “Though we'll want to know how your date goes. The more details, the better.”

“I can pretty much guarantee what will happen if she wears that.” Shelby nodded at the green dress. “Since she's going to be saving that for the wedding, though, we need to find her some date clothes. Something for the Searses' square dance, too.”

“Wait!” Danny protested, refusing to dwell on the whole commitment-phobe thing—she would file that under
Things that don't matter because we're not getting serious, period.
“Nobody said anything about a whole wardrobe. And isn't it you guys' turn to try stuff on?”

Krista headed for the racks. “We'll pull some shirts while you change back, Danny. Or if you want to stay in there, we can throw things over the top.”

“I'll be right out.” Not because she didn't trust the others to pick cool stuff, but because she didn't want to miss out on the fun.

As Danny rejoined the group, Jenny held up a shiny flamingo-pink blouse with linebacker shoulder pads and a big fat bow fastening it at the front. “How about this?”

“Not nearly loud enough,” Danny claimed. “I was more thinking along these lines.” She went for the nearest rack and whipped out a snap-studded rodeo-style
shirt made of bright red stretch polyester striped with zigzag lightning bolts done in reflective tape.

“Green, people,” Shelby said like a drill sergeant. “Think green!”

“You want green?” Tiffany stalled in the doorway to the back room, with a plastic-covered garment draped over her shoulder. “I thought you wanted stuff for a wedding?”

“We do, but—” Jenny cut herself off. “Never mind. What have you got there?”

“Something Mom got in the other week. I remembered it because I thought it was pretty.” She crossed to them as she pulled the plastic up and off a floaty froth of white. While hanging it on a coat hook labeled
LOOK WHAT I FOUND!,
she said, “See? And P.S.? Mom let me try it, and it looks even better on.”

Danny wasn't a super wedding-y person, but even she had to “ooh” along with the chorus that rose up at the sight of the wedding dress. The demure halter-top bodice was inset with Wedgwood blue fabric that was worked with white lace and a vee of embroidered wildflowers. A lace-edged blue ribbon embellished the bottom of the vee, and below that, layers of white satin underskirts and a white lace overskirt fell to midcalf, or maybe a little lower, coming to points like wildflower petals and stirring in the air currents of the shop.

The whole effect was light, airy, and casual, yet clearly bridal. Danny didn't know Krista all that well, but she could picture her in it. And when she glanced over, she found Krista staring at the dress the way a newbie skydiver would look back up at the plane during free fall—with equal parts wonder and terror.

“I think she likes it,” Shelby said in a stage whisper. “What do you guys think?”

“But it's lace,” Jenny said with feigned innocence. “I thought she was allergic to lace.”

“Not this lace.” Krista snagged the dress off the hook. “It's at least worth trying on, don't you think?” Her movements were jerky, her hands shaking as she fumbled to keep the dress from dragging on the floor.

“Hells, yes.” Shelby gave her a little push. “That blue is going to do crazy things with your eyes. Go on. We'll find shoes.” She herded the others away.

“She's freaking out,” Jenny whispered. “Why is she freaking out?”

“Because she knows this could be it,” Shelby whispered back.

“I didn't freak out when I got married. I just bought a dress.”

“You two might have the same faces, but you definitely don't have the same brain.” Shelby lifted the boots. “Come on, let's make it a dress-shoe exacta.”

After a brief, giggling search during which they vetoed vinyl go-go boots and six-inch white patent leather stilettos, Shelby held up a pair of calf-high lace-up boots in white satin with a lace overlay. “Ladies, I think we have a winner.”

The three of them trooped over to the changing area, where Krista's sock-clad feet were doing a little shimmying-into-the-dress dance. When Shelby tucked the boots under, Krista gave a happy little “Ooh!”