Free The Pretty Lady and the Cowboy (Songs from the Heart) by Dana Lee Page A

driver’s seat of Old Ray, as we always called it, just where Dad had sat for years, was almost like getting a hug from him. I needed a hug just now.
    And I needed someone I could turn to for advice about Ally. Had I been too easy on her? Or should I cut her some slack because she was still mourning the loss of our father? Where did “being understanding” stop and “enabling” begin?
    I parked the car in front of the house and took the back stairs up to my apartment. It was filled with furniture left by Dad’s estate, furniture I’d grown up with. There was the old comfy chair that Dad, Ally, and I used to squeeze into for story time, the worn leather couch that Dad had napped on in the den, the old oak coffee table my parents had refinished together. My mother had been an artist, so I had hung many of her paintings on my walls—paintings of our house, paintings of Ally and me when we were very small, paintings of an old family dog I hardly remembered. I sometimes fantasized about giving it all to Good Will and doing an Ikea makeover. But I didn’t. It was home.
    I kicked off my shoes and glanced at the clock. Four o’clock. Two hours. I decided to put on some footless tights and a tee-shirt and do a little yoga to pass the time. I needed something to keep me from counting down the minutes and the seconds.
    I worked my way through several sun salutations to warm up. Then I began a series of poses to help me relax the muscles in my legs and arms. I was still a little stiff from yesterday’s fall. I ended by sitting in a lotus posture and chanting “Om” to try to clear my mind.
    Then I jumped up and made a mad dash for the shower—so much for the calming effects of Yoga—grabbing my favorite scented shower gel from the bathroom shelf. I couldn’t help thinking of Levi’s gentle hands and gentle kisses as I ran the soapy washcloth over my body. I inhaled and smiled to myself. I loved this scent—Graceful, it was called. And gracefulness was definitely what I was hoping to have plenty of tonight. Maybe I could somehow persuade the klutzy side of me to stay home.
    I tried to do everything extra slowly so I wouldn’t have time to sit and wait after I was finally all dressed. I toweled my body slowly, dried my hair with extra care, spent several minutes smoothing some Graceful body lotion on my arms and legs so the scent would linger everywhere on my body. I applied mascara and a lip gloss called Damsel. Then I put on my sexiest, pink lace, strapless bra and panties set. I pulled the hot pink silk dress over my head and finally slipped into my princess shoes.
    When I looked in the mirror I saw a new Kitty looking back at me. I was now a kitten on the prowl!
    After a busy day at the store and a frustrating lunch with Ally, I deserved a night out. More than that—I deserved a little romance.
    I glanced at the clock. Perfect. About ten to six. I grabbed a black clutch purse and tucked my driver’s license, lip gloss, and a comb inside. Just the essentials. Then I grabbed my keys and headed out to Old Ray.
    I opened the door, settled into the old, familiar driver’s seat, and turned the key in the ignition.
    Nothing.
    “Old Ray,” I whispered, “not now! This is no time to get temperamental with me.”
    I resisted the urge to pump the gas pedal. I waited an excruciating minute or two then tried turning the key a second time. Nothing again. I was stuck here with a car that wouldn’t start. I went for it and pumped the gas, knowing I might flood the gas line. Still nothing. And Levi would be at the store about eight minutes from now. And I had no way to contact him.
    I slid out of the car, closed the door, and kicked the side of Old Ray as hard as I could with my Jimmy Choos. Ouch! Bad idea!
    The trolley didn’t run after 3:00 on Sunday afternoons, so I had no choice: I dashed back upstairs and laced on a pair of running shoes. If I cut through