“She’s going to do no such thing. She’s got four stitches on the back of her head, she had a concussion, she doesn’t need to cut hair just yet.”

Beth waved it away. He recognized the gesture from Tate. “If you put it that way she’ll go back just to spite you. Anne and I have worked the schedule out. We’ve got it covered until Monday. That gives us four days. Let us handle that part. Although I like that you put her first. I like that a lot.”

Pride swelled through him that her family approved.

He excused himself, going into her room and closing the door. Quickly stripping to his boxers, he carefully slid into her bed, pressing himself against her before dropping into sleep.

Chapter Nine

Tate chafed at the way her sisters watched her so closely. Every five minutes someone shoved a glass of water or some fruit at her.

“I’m not made of glass!” she growled through clenched teeth but Anne clucked and continued to hold out the glass of iced tea.

“It’s that mango green tea crap you like so much. Shut up and drink it or I’ll tell Tim you’re not taking care of yourself. You weren’t even supposed to come back to work until Monday. We agreed to let you work today because you said you’d take it easy.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” She took it and sipped. “Thank you. Now go see to your client please, mine is coming in two minutes and I need to take a pit stop.”

Tate hurried off but when she got back she recognized the lacquered blonde head sitting in her chair. Her eyes met Polly Chase’s in the mirror and there was no escape.

“Hello, honey. How are you?” Polly turned to look at Tate better as she approached.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Chase. How are you?”

“Well, just worried sick about you. But your color is back. You do have such pretty skin. I always wished mine was that creamy smooth.”

Tate looked at the woman perched in the chair. Polly Chase was a total stunner for her age. Even with a hairstyle that pre-dated computers. She was tiny but all around tiny. Petite little hands and feet, always wore perfect clothes. Tailored suits, pretty dresses, spiky stilettos. Her makeup was always flawless and her eyes, big and green, reminded Tate of late spring grass, vibrant. Tate would have bet her entire year’s salary that Polly Chase never envied anyone’s skin, much less hers.

“Mrs. Chase, I’m beginning to see where Matthew gets his gift with stretching the truth.”

Astonishment showed on Polly’s face a moment and then she laughed, delighted. “I sure do like you, Tate Murphy. Now come on over here and do my hair and we’ll talk about my son. And you’ll call me Polly.”

Anne met Tate’s eyes as she passed and they both had to hold back a laugh. The woman was totally incorrigible.

Beth gave Polly a shampoo and brought her back to Tate’s station. “I’m going to go ahead and pretend I don’t know Anne normally does this so you can grill me on my intentions with your son. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes please. And I do so love it when people let me boss them around. Makes a small woman feel mighty, know what I mean? Of course you do, you’ve pretty much raised your brothers and sisters. I see the way they are with you. A gift, having people love you so much, being part of something that means everything.”

Tate felt something click inside her at that moment. Polly Chase understood her better than anyone had, more than Matt, more than her own siblings. She met Polly’s eyes in the mirror briefly before beginning to towel and blow her hair dry. As she got the extensive backcombing and spraying process started, she had to wrestle back her emotions. Other than her siblings, when had an adult actually cared about her? Reached out the way Polly was doing? That broken little girl inside Tate’s soul wanted to grab it, take the hand Polly held out because damn it, she needed it.

“It’s all right, honey. What are your intentions with my Matthew then?” She knew. The amazing thing about Polly Chase was that she saw that little girl inside Tate and didn’t run. She wanted to comfort her and know her.

Polly sat back and Tate began to talk about Matt.

As Tate worked on her hair, Polly absolutely fell in love with Tate Murphy. She loved all her daughters-in-law but none of them had ever really sat down and talked about her sons with her the way Tate did.

Tate loved Matt. Not his name, not his looks or his money, she loved his laugh, the way he pitched in when anyone needed anything, the way he took care of her after the hospital. So many people looked at Matt and saw a pretty boy who had it easy, they didn’t see the rest of him, the compassion and love, the way he threw himself into everything he truly cared about. Tate saw that and Tate loved him for it. And Polly loved Tate for it.

The girl was fragile in many ways but she’d always be a good partner to her son. Polly would never tell anyone, but she’d always worried about Matt the most. He seemed so carefree and easygoing but he wandered around looking for something to challenge him. Women were easy, too easy. Which is why he never kept one very long. She’d had hopes for Liv, thought Matt was a damned fool for letting that one go at the time but now she knew Liv was for Marc. But Matt had started drifting again after Liv. He needed something to work for.

He did have it easy in other ways too. He’d been tested at school early on and scored off the charts, got that from his daddy. He’d never gotten less than an A in a class all the way through school, scored outrageously high on his SATs and then rejected college. Broke Edward’s heart that none of his boys wanted to go into the law.