“You didn’t even like him?”

“I thought he had a backbone when I married him.”

“You probably sucked it out of him while you were drinking his blood.”

Nita’s bottom lip curled, and she took a pull on her teeth, her favorite way of expressing disapproval. Blue had heard that unpleasant sucking sound more times than she could count.

“Get me my magnifier,” Nita demanded. “I want to see if Bertie Johnson’s mole shows up in this picture. The homeliest woman I’ve ever met, but she had the gall to criticize my clothes. She told everybody I was ostentatious. I fixed her.”

“Knife or gun?”

Suck. Suck. “When her husband lost his job, I hired her to clean my house. Mrs. High and Mighty didn’t like that at all, especially since I always made her do the toilets twice.”

Blue had no trouble imagining Nita lording it over the unfortunate Bertie Johnson. Nita had been doing exactly that to Blue for the past four days. She demanded homemade cookies, ordered Blue to clean up after Tango, and had even put her in charge of hiring a new cleaning lady—a daunting task, since nobody wanted to work for her. Blue snapped the album closed. “I’ve seen more than enough to start working. My sketches are finished, and if you’ll just leave me alone for a while this afternoon, I can get something done.”

Not only had Nita declared she wanted to be in the painting, but she’d also decided she wanted it done on a much grander scale, so she could hang it in the foyer. Blue had special-ordered the canvas and increased the price accordingly. She’d have more than enough money to get started in a new city…if she could only get out of Garrison, something Nita was doing her best to prevent.

“How are you going to paint anything decent when you’re mooning over that football player all the time?”

“I am not.” Blue hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of him since she’d met him Tuesday on the street, and when she’d driven back to the farm to get her things, he’d been gone.

Nita reached for her cane. “Face it, Miss Big Talk. Your so-called engagement is over. A man like that wants a lot more in a woman than you’ve got.”

“As you keep reminding me.”

Nita regarded her smugly. “All you have to do is look in the mirror.”

“Are you ever going to die?”

Nita’s bottom lip curled, and she took a noisy tug on her front teeth. “He’s broken your heart, and you won’t admit it.”

“He hasn’t broken my heart. For your information, I use men. I don’t let them use me.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re a real Mata Harry, all right.”