said Beth.
Ivy threw up her hands. “I don’t care about his buns!”
The buzz of voices beneath the canopy ceased. Everyone looked at Will, then Ivy.
“Would you like to see mine?” asked one of the football types.
“Oh, jeez,” Ivy said.
Will laughed out loud.
“Your cheeks are pink,” Beth told Ivy.
Ivy put her hands up to her face.
Beth pulled them away. “It’s a much better color for you than purple and yellow.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ivy grimaced as Beth zipped her up in front of the dressing room mirror.
“If I lean over, Will’s going to get a fine shot.”
“He’s going to get a fine shot even with you straightened up,” Beth observed.
They had decided to dress as saloon girls in identical red-and-black dresses, “floozy frocks,” as Beth called them. She smoothed her hands over her ample hips. “I don’t care if my man’s law-abiding,” she said with a Western twang, “so long as he abides by my laws.”
Ivy laughed, then gave a backward glance at herself in the mirror. Beth had given her the smaller dress to wear; there wasn’t a curve that didn’t show. Ivy was reluctant to step through the dressing room curtains, though Beth informed her that the two football types had left Ivy could deal with the Brothers Macho; it was Will she felt shy around.
Maybe he sensed that. He stretched out his hand to Beth, as she and Ivy stepped out of the dressing room. “Oh, Miss Lizzie,” he said, “you do look mighty fine today. You too, Miss Ivy,” he added quietly.
“How about me?” Philip asked. He came out in fringed pants and a vest that almost fit him. But the ten-gallon hat was about nine gallons too big.
“Fearsome,” Will said. “Fearsome and awesome, if only I could see your chin.”
Ivy laughed, feeling more comfortable again.
“How about if we try a different size?”
“Make it black,” said Philip.
“Right, Slim.”
Will found a hat and got the three of them lined up in front of the camera, angling them just right. Then he pushed his hat back and went behind the camera. It was a new camera in the body of an old one, rigged up to give off a big puff of smoke—that was part of the show. But after the flash and the smoke, Will’s head shot up from behind the equipment. He looked almost comical, and at first Ivy thought that too was part of the show. But the way Will was staring made all three of them turn to look behind them.
“I—uh—I’m going to take another,” he said. “Can you set yourselves just like before?”
They did, and a second puff of smoke was sent up.
“What went wrong the first time?” Beth asked.
“I’m not sure.” A look Ivy couldn’t interpret passed between him and Beth. He shook his head. Then the hat was back over his eyes again. “These will take a few minutes to print. Do you want two or three copies?” Will asked them.
“Two’s fine,” Ivy replied. “One for Beth and one for us.”
“I want my own copy,” said Philip.
“So do I,” said another voice.
Everyone turned.
“Howdy, pardner,” Gregory said, holding his hand out to Philip. “Ladies.” His eyes lingered on Ivy, traveling down her slowly.
Suzanne gave her a quicker look. “You sure squeezed yourself into that one,” she remarked. “It’s a wonder a crowd hasn’t gathered.”
Will pulled on his tight pants. “Are you talking about her or me?” he asked lightly.
Gregory laughed. Beth laughed after Gregory did, then glanced uncomfortably at Suzanne. Suzanne wasn’t amused.
Will shoved two film cartridges in the developing machine and set up for his next group of customers.
“Suzanne, there were only two dresses alike,” Ivy said quickly, “and Beth and I wanted to match, so she took that one and I took—Tell her, Beth.”
But as Beth repeated the explanation, Ivy said to herself, Why bother? Until Gregory learns to keep his eyes from wandering to other girls, it’s hopeless. I wish he’d wander them over to Beth, though.
She
Ivy threw up her hands. “I don’t care about his buns!”
The buzz of voices beneath the canopy ceased. Everyone looked at Will, then Ivy.
“Would you like to see mine?” asked one of the football types.
“Oh, jeez,” Ivy said.
Will laughed out loud.
“Your cheeks are pink,” Beth told Ivy.
Ivy put her hands up to her face.
Beth pulled them away. “It’s a much better color for you than purple and yellow.”
Fifteen minutes later, Ivy grimaced as Beth zipped her up in front of the dressing room mirror.
“If I lean over, Will’s going to get a fine shot.”
“He’s going to get a fine shot even with you straightened up,” Beth observed.
They had decided to dress as saloon girls in identical red-and-black dresses, “floozy frocks,” as Beth called them. She smoothed her hands over her ample hips. “I don’t care if my man’s law-abiding,” she said with a Western twang, “so long as he abides by my laws.”
Ivy laughed, then gave a backward glance at herself in the mirror. Beth had given her the smaller dress to wear; there wasn’t a curve that didn’t show. Ivy was reluctant to step through the dressing room curtains, though Beth informed her that the two football types had left Ivy could deal with the Brothers Macho; it was Will she felt shy around.
Maybe he sensed that. He stretched out his hand to Beth, as she and Ivy stepped out of the dressing room. “Oh, Miss Lizzie,” he said, “you do look mighty fine today. You too, Miss Ivy,” he added quietly.
“How about me?” Philip asked. He came out in fringed pants and a vest that almost fit him. But the ten-gallon hat was about nine gallons too big.
“Fearsome,” Will said. “Fearsome and awesome, if only I could see your chin.”
Ivy laughed, feeling more comfortable again.
“How about if we try a different size?”
“Make it black,” said Philip.
“Right, Slim.”
Will found a hat and got the three of them lined up in front of the camera, angling them just right. Then he pushed his hat back and went behind the camera. It was a new camera in the body of an old one, rigged up to give off a big puff of smoke—that was part of the show. But after the flash and the smoke, Will’s head shot up from behind the equipment. He looked almost comical, and at first Ivy thought that too was part of the show. But the way Will was staring made all three of them turn to look behind them.
“I—uh—I’m going to take another,” he said. “Can you set yourselves just like before?”
They did, and a second puff of smoke was sent up.
“What went wrong the first time?” Beth asked.
“I’m not sure.” A look Ivy couldn’t interpret passed between him and Beth. He shook his head. Then the hat was back over his eyes again. “These will take a few minutes to print. Do you want two or three copies?” Will asked them.
“Two’s fine,” Ivy replied. “One for Beth and one for us.”
“I want my own copy,” said Philip.
“So do I,” said another voice.
Everyone turned.
“Howdy, pardner,” Gregory said, holding his hand out to Philip. “Ladies.” His eyes lingered on Ivy, traveling down her slowly.
Suzanne gave her a quicker look. “You sure squeezed yourself into that one,” she remarked. “It’s a wonder a crowd hasn’t gathered.”
Will pulled on his tight pants. “Are you talking about her or me?” he asked lightly.
Gregory laughed. Beth laughed after Gregory did, then glanced uncomfortably at Suzanne. Suzanne wasn’t amused.
Will shoved two film cartridges in the developing machine and set up for his next group of customers.
“Suzanne, there were only two dresses alike,” Ivy said quickly, “and Beth and I wanted to match, so she took that one and I took—Tell her, Beth.”
But as Beth repeated the explanation, Ivy said to herself, Why bother? Until Gregory learns to keep his eyes from wandering to other girls, it’s hopeless. I wish he’d wander them over to Beth, though.
She
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