Monday, February 18, 2013

TUESDAY TALES - KATHLEEN TIGHE BALL

Welcome! Today I have Kathleen Ball as a guest on my blog for her Tuesday Tales as her blog is out of commission. Here she is: I'm writing another installment of the story WISHING ON A COWBOY. The word prompt this week for Tuesday Tales is Spider.

Hunter’s heart broke for her. Her pain was written in her expression and he wished he could take it all away. What he wanted most was to kick her ex-boyfriend’s ass. A nice fist to the face would feel good about now. The jerk wasn’t here but Maggie was. Somehow he’d have to get through to her.
“Sweetheart, I don’t care what he said to you. None of it is true. Hell I polish silver all the time and it always comes out gleaming. It’s all in the care you take. Maybe you do have reason to feel like a nobody. It seems to me that he did a good job in making you believe it. None of its true. You are someone to me. To me you are beautiful and smart. Any man would be privileged to have you in their life.”
Maggie shook her head in denial. She sniffled and tried to give him a smile. “You’re just trying to cheer me up. I know men don’t like for a woman to cry. I’m trying not to.”
“Did he tell you that you’re not supposed to cry? Hell, everyone cries at some point. Sounds to me like you had more reason to cry than most. Your tears don’t bother me, sweetheart. Cry if it makes you feel better.” He lifted her in his arms and sat her on his lap. “Go ahead and cry it out, Maggie.”
She stiffened in his arms and hesitated. Slowly, she laid her head on his shoulder. Finally, she began to sob.
Hunter put his arms around her and rode out the storm with her. He stroked her back and whispered what he hoped were words of encouragement. He just might have to hunt down the son of a bitch that manhandled her.
Finally the storm subsided. “Thank you, Hunter. You’re right I needed a good cry. Now I have to figure out my future. I hope Rolly calls with the info on my cattle. Do you think I should sell them? I could probably get enough to start over somewhere.”
Her words stung. He wanted her to stay. “You don’t need to worry about that now.”  He dumped her on the couch. “Now scissors or clippers?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your hair, darlin’. I can’t stand to look at that hack job any more. So what’ll it be scissors or clippers?”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “You expect me to let you cut my hair?”
“I’ve gotten a fair amount of practice in. Cindy like for me to cut her hair. Hers look nice doesn’t it?”
“Clippers!” Cindy yelled from her room.
The corners of Maggie’s mouth turned up. “Scissors it is.”