Safe in the Fireman's Arms Read Online Free PDF Page A

the neutral family.”
    Maggie would concede that on that particular point, unfortunately her trendy cousin was spot-on.
    Susan continued. “You probably are unaware that I am the personal shopper for Bernice Harris.”
    “Bernice who?”
    “Bernice Harris, the reigning Bison Queen of Paradise Valley. She’ll be on a float during the parade Saturday.”
    “Parade?” Maggie frowned. “What parade?”
    “This weekend is huge in Paradise. The Founder’s Day parade is Saturday morning before the supper. Why, this weekend heralds the onslaught of tourist season. So you can see why we have our work cut out for us.”
    “We do?”
    “Oh, yes. It’s already Monday. You’ll need several new outfits, besides a dress.”
    Maggie uttered a noncommittal sound as she considered a dash for the door. What was the point? Since they were kids Susan and her long legs had always arrived everywhere first.
    “Did I tell you that Bernice asked me to go on tour with her? Naturally I turned her down. I’m needed here. This boutique is my calling. I’m sort of a missionary to the fashionless.” Susan offered a benevolent smile. “You, my dear cousin, shall be my coup de grâce. If I can make you look good I can make anyone look good.”
    Maggie flinched at the words, before glancing at her utilitarian leather watch. “I’m on my lunch break.”
    “Enough time to get started.”
    Susan reached out a hand and plucked Maggie’s tan cotton shirt between her thumb and forefinger. “These clothes you wear. They do nothing for you.” She released the fabric and rubbed her hands together.
    “What exactly did you have in mind, Susan?”
    Susan’s finely shaped brows knit together in deep thought. “Well, first, I’d like to see Chief MacLaughlin brought to his knees.”
    “This is not about Jake MacLaughlin,” Maggie sputtered.
    “When men are in the equation it’s always about them.”
    “No! My goal is simply to not embarrass myself. Couldn’t you help me to blend in? Not stand out.”
    Susan shook her head and sighed. “Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. You’re the smartest woman I know. Assistant professor of physical science at age thirty-two. Dr. Margaret Jones. Very impressive.” She crossed her arms and tapped her toe. “Why is it, do you suppose, that you have set such a low bar for your personal life?”
    Susan’s words hit the target with impeccable precision. “Um...I...” The air whooshed from Maggie’s lungs, deflating her outrage.
    Okay, fine. Susan was right. Maggie had spent a lifetime making her parents’ priorities her priorities, barely eking out a life of her own. Truth be told, she’d never even lived on her own until now. Pretty much everything in her life was a reflection of her parents’ choices.
    “Well?” Susan asked as she continued to tap an annoying beat on the tile floor.
    Resistance was futile. Maggie took a deep breath. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
    “That’s the attitude. Nothing like a little martyrdom to spark a well-deserved change.”
    Maggie glared.
    “You go right into that first dressing room.” Susan wiggled her fingers toward the back of the shop. “I’ll bring you some things to try on.”
    No sooner had Maggie stepped into the tiny dressing room than the louver doors burst open and Susan entered with a tall stack of clothing in her arms.
    “You can’t be serious,” Maggie said.
    “We’re simply checking for sizing. If they fit, put them in one pile. Those that don’t fit you can put in another pile.”
    “Fit. I’ll give you fit,” Maggie muttered as she quickly held up each garment, discarding most as too revealing, clingy or outrageous.
    “How are you doing in there?”
    “All done.” Maggie came out holding two hangers. One with an eyelet-trimmed, peach peasant blouse and the other with a pair of forest-green capris.
    Susan looked from the garments to Maggie. “They aren’t neutral, I’ll give you that.”
    “Good. Right?”
    “It’s a start. Now look