Unfinished Dreams by Amanda McIntyre Page B

subject.
    Maybe it was time to change topics, lighten things up a bit. She got up, intent on pouring him another glass of milk.
    Stepping from the table, she opened the refrigerator door and spoke loud enough for him to hear. “So did I ever tell you about my short stint as a beautician?” She hoped a little levity would pull him from his silence. Cautiously, she peeked over the edge of the refrigerator door.
    “Is that a hint about my hair?” He glanced at her with a wry smile.
    Tess shrugged, “I don’t know. I’d be happy to cut it for you if you like.” She brought his glass back to the table and slid it across to him. “It’s the least I could do to repay you for all your help around here.”
    He took the glass from her, not looking up.
    “The thought kinda scares you, doesn’t it?”
    His lips curled up in a grin a moment before he popped another dumpling in his mouth. “ You cutting my hair a scary thought? Hmm…let me think…yep, I think it does.”
    “I have a very steady hand and I’ll have you know, that I almost graduated at the top of my class.”
    “Almost? That part worries me.” He stuffed a piece of roast beef in his mouth, “This is delicious, by the way.”
    “I cut hair as well as I cook.” She was baiting him, she knew, but she’d come to enjoy his company and if nothing else, she wanted to be his friend. She didn’t dare allow her thoughts to go further, even though they danced at the edge of her brain.
    His gaze rose to hers, those dark espresso eyes sparkled with mischief.
    Tess expected a snappy comeback. Instead, he smiled.
    “I guess it’s been awhile since I had time for a haircut.” He leaned back in the chair and gave a loud contented sigh.
    “Well, it’s your choice of course, but you won’t get a better haircut for the price.” She stood and began to gather the lunch dishes. Her experience with people was to help them see it was okay to let others help them once in a while. But they had to make the decision themselves in order for it to be cohesive to both parties.
    “Uh…thanks,” he tipped his head and narrowed a curious gaze at her. “I don’t think so.”
    “You don’t trust me?” She glanced over her shoulder and caught him tapping his fingers to the table. “You afraid of me, cowboy?”
    He smiled, but his gaze focused to the kitchen table.
    “Look, I don’t mind really. I sometimes do my friends’ hair.”
    The skepticism was evident on his face. “How many would that be?”
    His gaze pierced her and she had to refocus her thoughts.
    “Besides, why didn’t you finish school?”
    Tess crossed her arms and leaned against the cabinet. “ I went in to it as an interim between deciding what to do with my life and other things. And for your information, I have more than one or two friends who trust me with their hair, thank you.”
    He sighed and she suspected he was weakening.
    “I’d insist on giving you something.”
    She headed past him toward the living room, her mind flirting on various options of repayment. “Tell you what, if you don’t like the way it turns out, then you owe me nothing.”
    “That’s very thoughtful of you.” His low-timbered voice spoke from the kitchen, reminding her of her own words.
    She pretended not to hear him and went about putting in a fire to stave off the chilly, damp afternoon.
    “What are you doing?” He joined her a moment later, in the living room, propping his shoulder against the doorframe.
    “I’m starting a fire. Isn’t that why you cleaned it?”
    He straightened as she twisted the newspaper and lit the end.
    “Uh, yeah, and I trust you’ve checked to see the flue is open?”
    Tess tucked the burning paper between the dry logs, and glanced at him with a raised brow. She looked back, pleased to see the fire, mesmerized at the crackling flames and the sudden snap of seasoned wood. A moment later, she started coughing as a gray billowy cloud rolled over her into the living