okay.
“Yeah, sure. My face isn’t as tender as it had been.”
“That’s good,” Orville said, tilted the chair back enough to get a good angle for a shave, and then poured some hot water in a basin.
He dipped a clean towel in the water, wrung it loosely, and then wrapped it onto Harley’s face, making sure to leave his nose free to breathe.
“Damn, Orville, that’s hot,” Harley said.
Orville knew it, but pretended innocence as he worked up a lather in the shaving mug.
“Sorry,” Orville said. “Softens up the whiskers good, don’t you know.”
Harley grunted, and crossed his hands across his belly, unaware that Orville had walked back to the door.
“Got a couple of strangers in town,” Orville said.
Harley could have cared less and let it be known.
“So what? Hurry up with my shave and haircut. I got business later.”
Orville figured Harley’s business was monkey business and took his own sweet time getting back to the job at hand. Finally, he removed the towel, slathered on a good dose of lather, and began to give Harley his shave.
He had finished the shave and was working on the haircut when, to his surprise, the stranger appeared in the doorway.
“Sir, I am Reverend Randall Howe. I understand you are needing the services of a preacher.”
Orville’s mouth dropped. It was the same man who’d ridden in on the mule. He would never have guessed the man to be a preacher.
“Yes, yes I am.”
“My name is Reverend Randall Ward Howe, and I am at your service. I can see that you are busy. I am at the boarding house and will await your pleasure.”
Eulis bowed, then left the barber shop as abruptly as he’d entered.
Harley froze, gave Orville a nervous glance, as if he feared Orville was going to try and hold him to his original promise, then started to undo the cape.
“Sit still, damn it,” Orville said. “I only cut one side of your hair.”
“Then hurry up,” Harley said. “Lola’s waiting on me.”
Orville frowned. None of this mess would have happened if Harley had been able to keep his prick in his pants. Then Fannie wouldn’t have gone all crazy and gotten herself engaged to Myron Griggs. How was it going to look to the decent folks with his daughter married to the man who sold women and booze on a daily basis?
“Orville? Did you hear me? I got business.”
Orville glared at the back of Harley’s head and then started to snip.
At first it was just one angry snip, but then another followed, and then another, and the first thing Orville knew, he had one side of Harley’s hair at good two inches shorter than the other. He turned the chair toward the windows so Harley couldn’t see himself in the mirror and began working on the long side, trying to even it up. He was doing all right until he saw that woman who’d ridden in on the mare walking past his shop. She walked like a warrior, with her chin up and her shoulders straight and proud. Her stride was long and purposeful and that long, brown hair was still flying out behind her like a sail. He got another whiff of polecat and frowned. It was strange that every time he saw the woman he smelled skunk, then discarded the notion.
“Are you done?” Harley asked.
Orville looked down at Harley’s hair. There was a big hunk out of the crown that shouldn’t be there and what had been the short side of Harley’s hair was now the long side again, which also meant that he’d royally messed up this haircut.
“Pretty much,” Orville said, whipped off the cape and gave Harley a push. “This one’s on me.”
Harley stood up and grinned, revealing a three tooth gap in his once perfect smile as he set his hat back on his head without bothering to look.
“Well, thanks, Orville.”
“Don’t mention it,” Orville muttered, then stepped out to the sidewalk again, looking for the strange woman, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Fannie was hanging laundry out on the clothesline in back of the house when she heard someone calling her name. She dropped the piece of wet clothing back in the basket and then moved toward the fence.
“I’m out here,” she called.
Moments later, Myron came running around the corner of the house. He vaulted the fence and swooped her up into his arms.
“He’s come, Fannie Mae! He’s come. It’s a sign from God, himself that this marriage is right!”
Fannie was laughing before she even knew what Myron