Free Santa Fe Edge by Stuart Woods

had been easier than she thought.
    “I’ve got to get back to my e-mail,” Tip said. “You stay and look into the nooks and crannies.” He left and went back to the main house.
    Dolly went into the kitchen and began opening cabinet doors. It was well equipped, and there were even pots and pans and utensils. She liked cooking, and she would enjoy this kitchen.
    To her surprise there was a knock at the kitchen door, and she opened it. A very beautiful woman of indeterminate age stood there in tight jeans and a sweater.
    “Hi,” the woman said. “My name is Ellie Keeler. I’m just moving in next door, and I thought I’d say hello.”
    “Please come in,” Dolly said. “I’m Dolly Parks, and I’m just moving in, too.”
    “Beautiful place,” Barbara said, looking around the living room. “This is the guesthouse, right?”
    “Yes. The main house is up the walk.”
    “Who lives there?”
    “His name is Tip Hanks. He’s a professional golfer.”
    “Oh, yes. I watched the end of the tournament in Houston, when he sank that long putt.” Barbara went and looked at the bedrooms. “Looks like you haven’t moved in yet.”
    “No, I’ll do that tomorrow.”
    “I’ll give you a hand, if you like.”
    “Thanks, but I don’t have a lot of stuff, mostly clothes. I’m moving from a small, furnished apartment in town. Would you like a drink? There’s some liquor in a little bar and some beer in the fridge.”
    “A beer would be great,” Barbara replied, settling onto a sofa.
     
     
    BARBARA WATCHED HER walk away and admired her figure. There was something about this girl, she thought. Something in her is like me. Dolly came back with two beers and took a seat on a chair.
    “Where are you from, Dolly?” Barbara asked.
    “I grew up in Connecticut—Westport—and I worked in New York for a few years before I came out here earlier this year. How about you?”
    “I grew up in La Jolla,” Barbara lied. “When I met my husband I moved to San Francisco with him. He was killed a few months ago in a car crash.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Dolly said.
    “Well, being a widow requires some adjustment,” Barbara said. “You wake up and there’s nobody on the other side of the bed. I miss the sex. Have you ever been married?”
    “No. I had a couple of close scrapes, but I managed to stay out of trouble.”
    “Smart girl,” Barbara said. “Someone as beautiful as you won’t have any trouble attracting men.”
    “Thank you,” Dolly said, “but it isn’t always easy. Most of the single men I’ve met in Santa Fe have been gay. They’re good company and good friends, but you know …”
    “I know,” Barbara said.
    They talked and laughed for the better part of an hour and got through another beer before Barbara excused herself.
    “I’ve got some unpacking to do,” she said. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime?”
    “Why don’t you come over tomorrow evening, and we’ll christen my new kitchen? I enjoy cooking.”
    “How nice! What time?”
    “Say seven?”
    “I’ll look forward to it.”
    Dolly showed her to the kitchen door, and Barbara went back to her own guesthouse. This was going to work out well, she thought, if she was right about Dolly.

15
    L auren Cade woke up and found Teddy looking at her. “Hey, there,” she said.
    “Hey, yourself,” he replied. He was sitting up in bed with the morning newspapers.
    They had been in Santa Fe for several days now. “I love this town,” she said. “Let’s look for a house to rent.”
    “I’ve got the real estate section right here,” he replied. “We’ll start looking today, but first there’s something we have to talk about.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Your new name.”
    “I noticed that you checked into the hotel as Charles Tatum,” she said. “Shall I call you Charlie?”
    “That’s good,” he replied, “when others are around.” He handed her a plastic envelope containing a passport, a driver’s license and a credit