Page 21 of The Formation of Us
“That’s absolutely true,” Tansy said, all aflutter. “Why just last night—”
“We decided to offer one free massage to every lady in town,” Faith declared, not batting a lash for cutting in on her aunt. “Mrs. Grayson, we would be in your debt if you would pass word of our business to your lady friends.”
So that’s what these women were up to. Duke ground his teeth. They were swindling his family into promoting their business.
“Of course,” his mother said in her usual obliging way. She got to her feet and grasped Iris’s hands. “The girls and I will be happy to promote your business to every woman we know, and I’ll be your best customer. You are truly an artist, and well worth whatever price you’re charging.”
“Not a penny, Mrs. Grayson. Consider it our gift to thank you for such a warm welcome.”
“We are the ones who received the warm welcome.” Duke’s mother patted Iris’s hands, but spoke to all of the women. “Thank you for a wonderful afternoon.”
Duke waited until his mother left with Evelyn and Claire, then he took Faith firmly by the elbow. “Let’s have that private talk now, Mrs. Wilkins.”
Chapter 7
Duke guided Faith outside, away from her daughter and out of earshot of the outlandish women she called her aunts. He’d wager his badge, or a win in the next election, that the women weren’t related to each other at all, much less related to Faith.
He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the vertical board and batten wall of the building. “I stopped to make sure the gas line was secure, but that was some story your aunt just told.”
Faith fiddled with her apron, aligning the two large pockets with her hip bones, then smoothing the dark green fabric over her flat stomach. “Aunt Dahlia has a flare for drama.”
So did Faith. Her casual tugging and smoothing of her apron made him vividly aware of what lay beneath the fabric of her dress.
“Dahlia was just entertaining our guests.”
“Your guests were my mother and my sisters-in-law, decent people who don’t deserve to be manipulated.”
Her head jerked up. “Manipulated?”
“Misled, if you prefer.”
Her eyes sparked with anger. “In what way, Sheriff?”
“Dahlia’s story is leaky as a sieve.”
“Because she was shamelessly embellishing her past, which she confessed to your mother. Storytelling is a great pastime in my family, but I can’t see any reason for her silly story to upset you. Dahlia admitted she was ‘decorating the cake’.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Then you’re saying those women aren’t your aunts?”
“I’ve already answered that question, and the answer hasn’t changed.”
He eyed her for a moment and decided she would defend those crazy women as fiercely as she would defend Cora—and Adam, who was walking down the street toward them.
“Your brother is nearly here.” He nodded in the boy’s direction.
Faith looked peeved. “Adam and I have to finish our planting, so if you’ll excuse me.”
“One more question.” He thumbed toward the greenhouse. “What else are you selling here? What are those special services you and your aunts offer?”
Faith’s scowl deepened. “Healing massages.”
“What exactly is a ‘healing massage’?”
“It’s the practice of manipulating muscle while applying healing herbs and oils to a sore or injured area of the body.”
“Will you be offering this service to men?”
Her eyes sparked with anger and she refused to answer.
