Keep Her

Chapter 1

Thursday, March 22, 2012

Tucson, Arizona

There you are. Alan Richards entered the courtroom just in time to see her slip through the door on the far side of the room.

Long, blond hair lay in a plait down her back, several strands free around her face. Close-fitting jeans hugged shapely legs and hips. A dark green t-shirt fit well but gave very little away. Worn tennis shoes graced her feet. He couldn’t recall seeing her in anything but tennis shoes, blue jeans, and a t-shirt. She didn’t fear color, having worn plenty of brightly colored shirts, but jeans and sneakers were ever-present. Casual and comfortable, not intended to impress. He liked that kind of self-assurance.

She stared at the floor, but he knew her eyes to be as blue as the Arizona sky at midday. Though not beautiful by the world’s standards, she was appealing in her own right. The set of her chin could be stern in thought or relaxed in a smile she sometimes passed to others in the room. At the moment, a deep frown furrowed her forehead. He doubted that day’s case had put it there. He’d never seen a drug-related case trouble her.

For four years he’d seen her across the courtroom, and he still didn’t know her name. His mysterious observer. As an attorney, he’d tried many times to catch her, only to find she’d vanished as she’d appeared, like a specter without substance. As a judge, it hadn’t taken him long to understand why. She took the seat just inside the door, the last one in and the first one out. A year on the bench hadn’t gotten him any closer.

He bit back a smile at God’s sense of humor and turned his attention to work. The mystery of the blond observer would have to wait, yet again. For now, he took comfort in her faithful, reliable presence.

~ ~ ~

Dana Chandler dropped into the seat nearest the door as Judge Richards settled in his chair, dropped her backpack between her feet, and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. Focus on the courtroom. Forget earlier.

She snorted softly. Yeah, right. That’s gonna happen.

Why hadn’t Eric picked someone else? Plenty of others would’ve jumped at the chance to fly to Florida. She’d given him a list.

The annoying man had dismissed it without a glance. You need to conquer your fears. You’ll get on that plane, whether you like it or not.

No amount of arguing, reasoning, or (if she was honest) whining had swayed him. Her editor and supposed friend hadn’t relented so much as an inch. Shouldn’t have surprised her. The past several weeks, he’d been an unreasonable grump.

Sunday’s flight to Tallahassee loomed like a monster under a kid’s bed at bedtime. Her chest tightened, constricted by fear. Don’t obsess! Pay attention to the here-and-now. Thursday morning. Possession with intent to sell. She jotted the prosecutor’s name with a trembling hand and grimaced. Good luck reading that scrawled mess. She willed her hands to be still. They ignored the command.

An odd muffled, high-pitched tone reached her ears. The chirping ring of a cellphone. Dana winced in sympathy for whomever it belonged to. Judges abhorred that sound. It stopped then resumed seconds later. She glanced up and looked around to identify the source, only to find every eye in the room on her, including those of an unhappy judge.

She started to shake her head in denial. She didn’t carry a cellphone. Hated them. Oh, shoot! Horror shot through her. Dana grabbed her pack, rummaged in the outside pocket, got her hand on the offending object, and yanked it out. How do you shut these things up?

Pack under her arm, she jumped out of her seat and darted from the courtroom, frantically attempting to silence the cellphone. She finally hit the right button, though she couldn’t have said which one, and it fell silent. She jabbed the obnoxious thing back into the pocket of her pack. One more reason not to like you today, Eric. He’d made her carry the idiotic thing.

A hand touched her shoulder.

Panic flared. She jumped, whipped around, and took a step back all in one motion, her hand flying to her chest. Her backpack hit the floor with a dull thud. Relief nearly puddled her on the floor. One of Richards’ bailiffs. Lovely. Freak out like the man’s a serial killer. Real mature. She picked up the backpack, taking the opportunity to compose herself.

I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. Dana rubbed her temple with her free hand. A wicked headache had set up residence. Please tell Judge Richards I’m so sorry. I forgot I had the stupid thing. I don’t usually carry a cellphone. I hate them, and the feeling is mutual. It’s going into a drawer at home as soon as I get there. I don’t care if Eric likes it or not. Cellphones are nothing but trouble.

Amusement settled across his face.

Ugh. I’m rambling nonsensically. The man must think I’m a loon. She winced and muttered, Sorry.

He grinned. You already said that.

Oh, yeah, I did. Sorry. Ugh, ugh, ugh. Just shut up now. She heaved a hearty sigh and pressed a finger to her temple again.

Rough day?

If he only knew. She nodded. Do you like to fly?

His eyes widened. "Um… I don’t know that too many people like to fly."

She shook her head with a frown. That was clear as a stagnant pond, you nitwit. Try again. I mean, are you afraid to fly?

No, ma’am.

Want to trade jobs? Dana stopped an inch away from begging. She could stand around a courtroom all day and give people stern looks, and he could fly to Florida. Okay, maybe she couldn’t do the stern looks as well as he did, by even half, but still.

I take it you don’t like to fly?

She gave a soft laugh devoid of humor. Panic attacks and throwing up both lungs go well beyond ‘don’t like’. More into the territory of abhorrence, phobia, terror, just shoot me now. Some people won’t listen to reason though, you know?

"Now that I know something about." He grinned.

Did he mean Judge Richards? Doubtful. At least, she hoped not. "Please let Judge Richards know I’m terribly sorry for the disruption. It’ll never happen again. Will you tell him that for me?"

Yes, ma’am.

Thank you. With a flimsy smile, Dana hurried away. She knew exactly which drawer to shove the phone into to ensure it never again caused trouble. Then, maybe a swim was in order. Yes. Cold outside or not, she needed a swim.

~ ~ ~

Alan focused on the case instead of watching the clock. Minutes short of five, he adjourned court then summoned his bailiff Connor Jenkins with a flick of his fingers, gathered paperwork to stick it into a file, and then stepped from behind the bench, meeting Connor on his way out. The bailiff fell into step beside him in the hallway.

She asked me to relay her sincerest apologies for the disruption, Your Honor. I don’t believe you’ll have to worry about it happening again. She was mortified.

She looked pretty horrified when she ran out. Halting, Alan faced the other man. You didn’t happen to get her name, did you?

No, Your Honor. Connor looked surprised. Should I have?

No, I just wondered. He suppressed a chuckle the other man wouldn’t understand. It’s not important. Except to a man enthralled with a woman he’s never met. Such an admission was sure to raise questions about his suitability for his position. Thanks for taking care of it.

Connor hesitated in the act of walking away then turned again to face Alan. If you don’t mind my saying so, Your Honor, she’s an odd one.

In what way? The bailiff dealt with all manner of people. What could be so odd about this woman to warrant such a comment?

She’s two different people in one.

Explain. He cocked his head, keeping his tone soft to convey only idle curiosity.

I’ve seen her often, and she’s always so… I don’t know… calm, self-contained, together. Pick a word. Connor’s look turned to amusement. Today, she was hyper, rambling on and on. I think she said sorry five times in one breath. He chuckled.

Was she afraid you meant to haul her to jail?

I don’t think so. She’d had a bad morning. Was mad at someone named Eric. I think the flying thing had her rattled, too. The cellphone issue made matters worse. Not her day.

Flying thing?

Connor frowned for a brief moment. Oh, yeah. Apparently, she’s terrified to fly and someone’s making her fly somewhere.

I see. Well, thank you for taking care of it.

Anytime. See you tomorrow. The bailiff retreated down the hall.

Alan chuckled as he let himself into his office. So close to getting a name after so long. Very funny, Lord. To let me get so close and yet…. Well, there’s always tomorrow, right?

~ ~ ~

Friday, March 23, 2012

She never showed. Had the cellphone incident left her too embarrassed to return? I hope not. Alan kept his mind on the job while in the courtroom, but he couldn’t avoid dwelling on her absence during quiet times in his office. Maybe she’d already flown off to wherever.

What if she never came back? Okay, Lord, that wouldn’t be so funny.

He left the courthouse and retrieved his Suburban from the parking garage. From the left lane, headed west on Congress, he waited for the light to change so he could cross Granada. He glanced to his right, his gaze casually passing over pedestrians. It shot back to a familiar blond standing on the corner, her back to him as she waited for the crosswalk sign.

Though surrounded by other pedestrians, she didn’t acknowledge anyone around her. Her gaze remained as troubled and distant as it had been the day before. When the sign flashed WALK, she started across the intersection. Alone.

His heart jumped into his throat when he noticed the same thing other pedestrians had. A sedan making a right turn off Congress onto Granada headed straight for her, the driver apparently not seeing her. Another pedestrian yanked her out of the path of the oncoming car, which never braked or changed course. She jerked free with enough force to make her stumble. The other woman held out her hands in a harmless fashion.

Alan’s heart settled back into his chest.

The two women spoke, the pedestrian’s expression sympathetic as she nodded at something his courtroom observer had said. Then they joined the flow of people crossing the street. Her gaze held a haunted quality. He saw it only because she’d glanced over her shoulder as a car horn blasted through the heavy evening traffic. Her gaze skipped over him then turned forward again.

Scanning traffic, Alan searched for an opportunity to slip into the right lane. The horn blared again. Right behind him. The light was green. He pulled through the intersection. She turned north on Granada. By the time he got into the right lane and circled around to the corner of Granada and Alameda, she had disappeared. Again.

Fighting frustration and disappointment, he turned down Granada then back onto Congress and headed home.

Well, Lord, I guess today isn’t it either. Maybe Monday? He hoped.

~ ~ ~

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Dana stumbled over a rut in the floor as she headed for her seat Sunday morning. She shoved her duffle bag into the plane’s overhead compartment after fumbling it with trembling hands then dropped into the assigned window seat. She glanced out the window and slammed the visor. No way she wanted to see out there. She didn’t need to see how high they would be to know it was far too high for her comfort.

She huddled in the seat, arms wrapped around her, head down. Tears threatened as she fought the desire to scream and run off the plane. It hadn’t moved yet, much less gotten off the ground, but anxiety mounted. Her stomach tightened into a knot worthy of an Eagle scout. I’ll never eat again. Her heart pounded in her ears, leaving her lightheaded.

Lord, please help me. That was all she could manage.

Seats around her filled. Tension intensified, and her stomach churned still more. Eyes squeezed shut, she tried to block out the sounds of so many strange voices. Someone dropped into the seat next to her. Tremors increased. The pilot’s voice came over the speakers. She fumbled with her seatbelt, requiring several attempts to snap it in place. Yeah, like that’ll do any good.

Excuse me. A soft, kind voice broke through the tension, making her jump.

She opened her eyes.

An older woman possibly in her seventies wore a compassionate, sympathetic look on her weathered face. You poor dear. Are you alright?

Dana shook her head, unable to speak and afraid tears would erupt.

The elderly woman laid a gentle hand on Dana’s where it grasped her own arm in a white-knuckled grip. She then turned to flag the attention of one of the flight attendants, speaking in hushed tones to the young woman. The flight attendant gave Dana a sympathetic look and nodded before she moved down the aisle.

It’ll be alright. You’ll see. The old woman patted her hand. My name is Emma Walker.

Dana Chandler, she managed through chattering teeth. Tears pushed to the surface, but she held them in check.

A man of about forty came down the aisle with the flight attendant, uniform crisp and fresh, his carriage relaxed but confident. He stopped next to Emma and squatted in the aisle, his smile kind. The flight attendant moved on. Good morning, ladies. How may I be of assistance?

I’m afraid Dana has a bit of an issue with flying, Emma confided, keeping her voice low. I thought perhaps it would reassure her to meet you.

I see. A tranquil smile lit his whole face. Dana found comfort in his calm, confident manner. My name is Lance Edwards. I’ll be your pilot today. Rest assured I’ll get you safely to Atlanta.

Dana nodded.

Dana, is it?

Another nod.

What’s your last name, Dana?

Chandler. She managed a whisper.

Dana Chandler. I know that name. His eyes narrowed in thought then he nodded. You’re a journalist here in Tucson, right?

Surprised, she nodded.

I read your columns when I’m in town. I enjoy your work.

Thank you.

It’s nice to have such a lovely face to go with the name. He grinned boyishly.

Heat slid up her neck.

He stood with what appeared to be a touch of regret. I better return to the cockpit or my copilot will think I’ve abandoned him. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dana. I hope you enjoy your flight. If not, lodge a complaint with me in Atlanta. Okay?

She nodded and watched him head back up the aisle.

Well, isn’t he a sweetheart? Emma put on her seatbelt.

Dana nodded.

So you’re a reporter? Where are you headed?

Tallahassee, Florida. Her voice had gotten stronger, which pleased her. The tremors weren’t quite as bad.

Really? I’m headed there myself to see one of my sons and his family. She pulled a small book from her purse and opened it.

Dana studied the photos and listened as Emma regaled her with tales of her family. A son in Tallahassee, along with his son and grandchildren. Another son in Wyoming with his wife and two sons. Dana wasn’t sure she’d remember any of it, but at least it distracted her from far worse things.

Anxiety shot up again when the plane moved. Emma talked about her family, sharing her anticipation at seeing them. Dana forced her mind to Emma instead of the fear trying to choke the life out of her. Gradually, she relaxed after the plane leveled off. Emma talked all the way to Atlanta and stayed with her as they ventured into the terminal with their carry-ons. As they walked toward the gate to catch their connecting flight, Dana saw pilot Lance coming down a hallway and waved to him with a mouthed thank you. He nodded and smiled.

Emma kept Dana occupied as they boarded the connecting flight to Tallahassee and talked as the plane took off. Dana had no time to dwell on the fact she didn’t want to go back into the air before they descended again. In Tallahassee, they disembarked together.

Emma’s grandson waited when they reached baggage claim. Emma introduced Dana to him then pointed out her checked bag on the baggage carousel, which he retrieved with ease.

Thank you so much. You were an answer to prayer. Dana hugged Emma. You have no idea.

You’re most welcome. I’m glad you didn’t mind the ramblings of an old woman.

Miss Emma, you can ramble at me anytime. She grinned, relaxing now that she was on the ground and no more airplanes awaited her. At least, not that day.

Chapter 2

Monday, March 26, 2012

Tallahassee, Florida

Monday found Dana up early, thanks to troubled sleep. Strange bed. Strange place. Strange sounds. A worrisome time difference, too. What if she’d overslept and missed court? Famished from too many meals missed since finding out about the trip, she tracked down breakfast then headed east on College Avenue in search of Monroe Street, hoping to find the Leon County Courthouse without too much difficulty.

She pulled her jacket tighter. Dampness in the air drove the chilly March air straight to her bones. The thermometer at her hotel had said the temperature was comparable to home, but the air was definitely colder. The higher humidity, or her imagination? No sun broke through the clouds. She already missed Arizona.

Why had Eric insisted on the trip? She’d read up on the case before leaving home and purchased papers in Tallahassee upon arrival. Divorce-turned-violent. Nothing special. What am I missing? Something Eric hadn’t deemed to tell her apparently made the case worth plane rides into cold, damp weather. So, what was it?

The courthouse proved easy to find. Dana snagged the seat closest to the door and prayed she had the right courtroom. She sat through the proceedings, observing, taking notes, and acquainting herself with the people involved. Having a whole new cast of people to watch—since she didn’t know a soul—presented its own challenge. Being surrounded by so many unfamiliar faces made her jittery.

A guy with light brown, close-cropped hair a few seats away kept looking back at her. She tried to ignore him and concentrated on taking notes. She hadn’t missed when he elbowed the guys on either side of him and whispered to them. They glanced at her then forward, shaking their heads.

When court ended for the day, she bolted out the door, certain she’d made a clean getaway until running footsteps pounded behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Yep. Him. His gaze didn’t waver from her.

Hey, wait up! Long legs ate up the distance.

She hesitated, considered pretending she hadn’t noticed him, then took a deep breath and turned to face him.

His steps slowed, a wide smile appearing. You’re new. I’ve never seen you before.

Just visiting.

Cain White, newspaper snoop. He offered his hand. Sparkling green eyes with laugh lines at the corners attested to a good nature. Kind eyes with an open, friendly expression drew her. He struck her as… safe.

She chuckled at his choice of description. Dana Chandler. Same. She accepted his proffered hand, continuing to study him.

Where are you from?

Arizona.

Wow. You’ve come a ways. He rocked on his heels and shoved both hands in the front pockets of his slacks. Listen, would you join me for supper? He must have seen a protest rising because he held out both hands. I’m harmless. I swear. I know good restaurants close by, and I detest eating alone. The fact you’re new and can entertain me with stories about Arizona is a bonus. I’ve never been out west.

Dana searched her mind for a refusal that wouldn’t sound rude. Nothing came to her.

Please? The pleading puppy-dog expression did her in.

She smiled and nodded. Fine, but we walk.

No worries. I know a great place a couple of blocks from here. Cain started down the sidewalk.

She considered, for the briefest moment, going the other way, but his footsteps carried him in the direction of her hotel. She caught up and fell into step beside him. They walked in companionable silence.

You weren’t kidding when you said a couple of blocks. They crossed College Avenue to a restaurant close to the corner.

Never let it be said I’m not a man of my word. He held the door with a grin.

The sharp scent of cayenne greeted them, permeating Dana’s senses, blending with garlic and a few other aromas she couldn’t quite identify. She inhaled deeply and gave him an approving smile.

He noted her appreciation. Glad you like the smell. Not all tourists do. I thought you might like to try some local cuisine tonight.

Dana perused the menu after being seated in a back corner. The wide variety of foods offered overwhelmed her, and she wasn’t sure what she should try. After a few minutes of silent debate, she decided on red beans and rice with blackened chicken. Promising. The fact it came with jalapeño cornbread was rather fascinating. Unexpected on that side of the country. She gave Cain a dubious look when he ordered gator tail as an appetizer in addition to his choice from the menu. The waiter nodded and left.

Gator tail?

You’ll love it. Trust me. He grinned.

Could she trust the name of the food? Was it merely a euphemism, or—

So, tell me. Cain settled into his seat and picked up his iced tea. What brings you all this way?

The trial we observed today. My boss is interested in it for some reason. She shrugged, turning the glass of sweet iced tea around on the tabletop between her palms.

Doesn’t the west see murder in the midst of divorce?

Sure, which is what I don’t understand. Unless Eric wanted to get rid of me for a while.

Oh, you’re a problem child then? He grinned in return.

With a halfhearted shrug of one shoulder, she feigned innocence.

He laughed.

Time to turn the conversation away from herself and learn something about her dinner companion. So, where are you originally from?

What makes you think I’m not a local?

Your accent doesn’t even come close. She narrowed her eyes, considering him. In fact, it sounds foreign, though diluted. English, if I don’t miss my guess.

Very good. He gave her an appreciative, approving look. I’m impressed. Not only because you actually figured out what part of Britain I’m from, but you don’t know how many times a day I’m asked when I came up from Australia.

I’m sure that doesn’t sit well. I knew a guy from Down Under, and he didn’t take too kindly to people mistaking him for a Brit either.

I emigrated from England when I was in college. My family followed a few years later. I’ve been here thirteen years this coming summer. What about you?

She intentionally misunderstood his question. I’ve never been to England.

He cocked a knowing brow.

She rolled her eyes and smiled. I’ve lived in Arizona all my life. True born and bred desert rat.

Well, if they make all desert rats as cute as you, I need to visit sometime.

Cute? Ugh. She winced.

"There’s not a thing wrong with cute. I wouldn’t have any objection to someone calling me cute."

She cast him a teasing grin. He’s easy to like.

Before she could respond, the waiter arrived with the appetizer. Gator tail. She studied it. Unrecognizable as any part of a creature, breaded and deep-fried. Looked harmless enough and smelled appealing.

Give it a try. He shoved the plate closer to her. It’s quite tasty.

She reached for a piece but froze when he barked Oh, wait! She eyed it with deeper suspicion. What had he noticed wrong with it?

He laughed. It won’t bite, but do you mind if we say grace first?

She relaxed and shook her head. He’d just gone up another step in her estimation.

He said a short blessing on the food. After the amen, he reached for a piece of the appetizer and popped it into his mouth without hesitation.

Dana picked up a small piece and took a cautious bite. Very tender, it almost fell apart in her mouth. Though salty, the flavor was mild with a hint of catfish. Surprisingly good. She gave Cain an approving smile. He looked pleased. By the time they finished the gator tail, their entrees arrived.

They chatted through dinner, performing a give-and-take verbal dance. Neither expected the other to reveal more than they wished to. For the first time in days, Dana relaxed and enjoyed someone’s company. They lingered after dinner, drinking sweet tea and talking.

Do you know anywhere nearby to run? she asked during a lull in the conversation. She doubted the wisdom of running alone in a strange place, but it couldn’t hurt to ask in case she decided to brave it.

Sure. The university is just west of here. They have a track in addition to ball fields. You could use them while you’re here. I make use of them 3 or 4 days a week after work. You’re welcome to run with me if you’d like.

That would be great. Back home I run with a friend.

A male friend? He made no attempt to hide curiosity.

No. She grinned.

Do you have a boyfriend? I noticed no ring, so I presume you’re not married. Is there anyone special in the picture?

You presume correctly. I’ve never been married. As for the other…. How should she answer that? She wasn’t dating anyone, but she couldn’t readily dismiss her feelings for a certain judge. A couple of friends teased her about being infatuated. She denied it with every breath despite there being more than a bit of truth to the accusation. That’s complicated.

"So, you are seeing someone then."

Yes and no. She leaned back in her seat. As I said, it’s complicated.

Now I’m truly intrigued.

Well, that’s tough, because I’ve said all I intend to. She grinned.

Ah, well, my loss. Cain sighed and leaned back in his seat, placing his hand over his heart with a melodramatic roll of his head, making her laugh. He pinned her with a look containing far less amusement, his face serious. I hope he’s worth it.

Silence fell for a few moments.

I better get back to the hotel. She didn’t know what else to say. Short of spilling the whole story, there was no way to respond to his comment, and she had no intention of admitting how pathetic she was. She reached for her purse, digging for her wallet.

I’ve got it. He waved a hand.

But—

You pay next time.

Did she want there to be a next time? She nodded. Alright.

Cain tucked his fingers in his front pockets once they were outside. I’d be happy to walk you to your hotel.

Thanks, but I’ll be fine. It’s a straight shot from here.

He smiled. How about we meet up after court tomorrow? Take a run?

Sure.

On the walk to the hotel, Dana shivered deeper into her jacket. She should’ve brought heavier clothes. It got cold in the desert when the sun went down, but without the sun to warm the air at least marginally, the humidity of Florida bit into her skin more harshly than the dry desert air of home, leaving her frosted by the time she walked the few blocks to the hotel.

Locked in her room, she turned on the heat, peeled out of her clothes, and climbed into a hot shower, only to find the water felt weird. Was soft water supposed to leave your skin slick?

~ ~ ~

Cain joined Dana at the back of the courtroom the rest of the week. They ran at the university two evenings and spent two others in area museums. They shared meals, usually with others Cain knew. He proved to be delightful, low-pressure company, content with friend status. His sense of humor combined with a kind spirit almost tempted her to let the relationship go beyond mere friendship, but things were best as they lay, given geography and the confused condition of her heart.

She stayed up late working on articles and columns to email Eric, praying the laptop he’d sent along behaved itself. She included a column about her museum adventures, encouraging readers to check them out if they were ever in Tallahassee, ending one article with, If you ever make it out this way, I know a charming, handsome, English gentleman with a delightful sense of humor who’ll show you the sights in Tallahassee. And he’s single, ladies.

When she closed her eyes each evening, it wasn’t Cain’s handsome face that filled Dana’s dreams. A dark-eyed Arizona judge haunted her nights. She missed spending time in his courtroom. She missed him. A man she’d never spoken to. Yep. Pretty pathetic.

Encroaching thoughts about upcoming flights home didn’t help matters.

~ ~ ~

Friday, March 30, 2012

Homesick? Cain asked over dinner Friday night. No one had joined them that evening.

Dana glanced up from watching condensation pool under her glass, surprised at his insightfulness, as she often had been the last few days. She nodded.

Sentencing is Monday, so you can fly out that afternoon if all goes well. His tone held a note of regret. I’m going to miss you.

I’ll miss you, too. Was her smile as flat and lifeless as it felt? You should visit Arizona soon. I can show you around Tucson. Return the favor for all you’ve done while I’ve been here.

It’s been my pleasure. His warm smile took on a mischievous quality. My visit won’t make your… uh… complicated situation even more so then?

Huh? She frowned then realized what he referred to. I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay.

I hope so. I don’t want a jealous boyfriend breathing down my neck. He grinned. What’s his name anyway?

She shot him a suspicious look.

Oh, come on! How likely is it I’ll ever meet the guy?

True. She nodded, conceding the point. If he visited Arizona, she had only to keep him away from Richards’ courtroom. Alan Richards.

Journalist?

Judge. Pride colored her voice. She winced inwardly. Hopefully Cain hadn’t noticed.

Really? How old is this guy? A teasing, speculative glint in Cain’s eyes left little doubt what he thought.

He’s been on the bench a year, so he’s younger than you think. About your age, in fact.

I guess I better watch the old age jabs, then, hadn’t I? He chuckled. What’s he like?

How could she describe a man she so greatly admired? He’s got integrity. He can be hard as steel when someone lies to him or incredibly compassionate when someone’s hurting. He’s very intelligent and honorable. She quirked a brow and paused, restraining a grin.

He caught the joke and groaned.

Dana laughed, leaned her elbows on the table, and set her chin in her hands. Before he became a judge, he worked as a prosecutor. Not once did I see him do anything dishonest or even slightly shady to win a case. He rarely lost because he’s so thorough.

Sounds like a hard act to follow. Is this guy imaginary or just perfect then?

I’m sure he’s not perfect. I mean, who is? She bit her tongue. She’d revealed more than intended. Cain was bound to catch on to the fact she didn’t know Richards well enough to even know if he had faults.

So what kind of weakness or ghastly quirk does he have? Surely he has one or two to keep me from developing a complex. He chuckled.

I don’t… know. Dana grimaced and covered her eyes with one hand. How will I get out of this one? Should’ve left well enough alone and told him nothing. She lowered her hand and locked eyes with him. As I said, it’s complicated.

Yes, you did say that. So why don’t you explain it?

Because you’ll think I’m a total idiot. She reached for the end of her braid, twirling it around her fingers.

Very unlikely given how highly I regard you.

I’d prefer to keep it that way. She stared Cain down, letting him know that line of questioning had ended.

So… have you always kept your hair long?

She stopped toying with the braid and tossed it over her shoulder. Yeah.

Have you ever considered cutting it?

Sometimes, when I’m sufficiently annoyed. I don’t like anything high maintenance, so keeping it long seems easiest.

He leaned back in his seat and studied her face.

Why?

Just curious.

No, you’re asking for a reason. What is it?

I think it would be flattering cut and styled, Cain said after a few silent breaths, his gaze direct.

You think so?

Absolutely. Would you put yourself in my hands tomorrow?

If you think I’ll let you cut my hair, you better think again. A laugh burst out. Last I heard, you’re a reporter, not a hairdresser or barber.

Not me. I know someone I’m sure would love to get his hands on you. The stylist my youngest sister sees. She thinks he’s wonderful. He leaned forward, a challenge in his eyes. I could get his number from her tonight. So?

She had wanted to try something new for a while. She just hadn’t been brave enough to do it. Straightening her spine, Dana jutted out her chin and smiled. Okay, let’s do it.

An approving smile curved his lips. Jeanine told me once that Danny usually works until eight on Friday evenings, so I should be able to get hold of him. I’ll call you later tonight if I can set something up for tomorrow.

~ ~ ~

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Images of plane crashes woke Dana in a cold sweat all through Friday night. She tossed and turned, torn between desire to get home as soon as possible and terror at getting back on a plane early the next week. The peaceful dreams she’d longed for hadn’t come. She dragged herself out of bed before the sun rose Saturday morning and took a long, hot shower then paced, unable to settle, until Cain arrived with the promise of breakfast before her appointment. She opened the door before he had a chance to knock, catching him off-guard. If he noticed anything amiss, he chose not to remark on it. Wise man. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with such comments.

She ate very little, her appetite non-existent.

They arrived early for the hairdresser, so they sat in the lobby to wait. Dana flipped through one magazine after another, taking no real interest in any of it. She fidgeted then got up to pace.

After a couple of passes, Cain grabbed her hand and pulled her to a halt, a soft but concerned look in his eyes. What’s wrong? Easing her into the chair next to him, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. If you’re this worried, we can cancel. No worries. I promise.

She shook her head. It’s not that. I want to do this.

Then what’s wrong?

I didn’t sleep last night.

Okay, not much help. He wrapped both hands around her fingers. Lack of sleep makes me groggy and lethargic. Apparently, it doesn’t work that way for you?

It’s not— She pulled one of her hands free to shove hair behind her ear. You’ll think I’m a big baby, but I can’t stop thinking about the flight home Monday.

I thought you wanted to go home.

I do. More than anything. She sighed and grimaced sheepishly. I hate to fly.

He studied her for a moment then smiled. Dana, do you realize how common fear of flying is? The epitome of patience, he captured her free hand, untangled it from the hair she’d twisted around her fingers and joined it with her other hand. "You’re not a big baby. A lot of people are terrified to fly. It’s nothing to be ashamed of."

Dana?

A man about Dana’s age of twenty-eight stood near the counter, an expectant look on his face as he scanned the lobby. Cain rose to his feet, drawing her with him. The hairdresser’s face lit up, and he offered his hand.

Dana, I presume?

She nodded, picking up the southern drawl even in those few short words.

I’m Danny. He offered his hand, which she accepted. He surprised her by not releasing her hand. Instead, he drew it into the crook of his elbow and led her to a chair in the back.

She glanced back to be sure Cain followed. He did.

Danny and Cain chatted about Cain’s sister, Jeanine, before Danny turned his attention to both of them. So what can I do for you?

Cut and style. Something simple to manage, Cain volunteered before she could say a word.

Do you have a particular style in mind? Danny’s gaze encompassed them both.

Dana shrugged.

Cain took the man aside and whispered to him.

Danny assessed her then nodded with a wide smile. Perfect.

Dana, you’re in good hands, so I’ll wait in the lobby. Before she could either protest or consent, Cain walked away.

If you’ll come with me, Miss Dana, we’ll get started.

For the next half hour, Danny chatted as he worked. He turned her chair so she couldn’t see the mirror, handing her a long tuft of hair after he unceremoniously chopped it off. She held it at first, fingering it, and tried not to think about how short her hair could end up since she’d had no input.

Finally, he stepped back with a satisfied nod and asked a passing coworker to retrieve Cain from the waiting room. I think you’ll be very happy.

Cain joined them, taking in the new cut. He smiled. Perfect.

Danny looked pleased with Cain’s reaction and caught Dana’s eye. You ready to see it?

She nodded and took a deep breath as he turned the chair.

At first, she could only stare, turning her head from one side to the other. Though drastic by comparison, Danny hadn’t gone as short as she’d feared. Her hair hung in an attractive bob, the ends brushing her jaw. Bangs fell across her forehead. The shorter style with less weight brought out natural wave, revealing more body than she’d realized she had.

It’s long enough to pull back when you run, Danny offered.

It’ll take some getting used to. Dana turned her head a couple more times. But… I like it. She gave their reflections a big smile.

Both let out a breath, sharing a relieved look. She slid out of the chair