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keeping with its name, the front of the Rainbow Cafe had been painted
    in stripes of five different pastel colors. The wooden sign that swung
    gently from a rusted iron arm was hand-lettered in a fashion that made
    Marilee think of teenage doodling - free-form, naively artistic. It
    promised good food and lots of it. Her stomach growled.
     
    A small, dark-haired waitress stood holding the front door open with one
    hand, letting the smell of breakfast and sound of George Strait on the
    jukebox drift out. The other hand was propped on a wide hip, a limp
    dishrag dangling from the fingertips. Her attention was on the trio of
    dogs that sat on the stoop. They gazed up at her with the kind of
    pitiful, hopeful look all dogs instinctively know people are suckers
    for. She frowned at them, her wide ruby mouth pulling down at the
    corners.
     
    "You all go around to the back," she said irritably. "I won't have you
    stealing steaks off the customers' plates on your way through to the
    kitchen."
     
    The leader of the pack, a black and white border collie with one blue
    eye and one brown eye, tipped his head to one side, ears perked, and
    hummed a little note that sounded for all the world like a canine
    version of please.
     
    The waitress narrowed her eyes at him and stood fast.
     
    After a minute, the dog gave in and led his cohorts down the narrow
    space between the buildings.
     
    "Moocher," the waitress grumbled, her lips twitching into a smile.
     
    Someone should have captured her on film, Marilee thought, her artist's
    eye assessing and memorizing. The woman whose name tag identified her as
    Nora was pushing forty, and every day of it was etched in fine lines on
    her face. But that didn't keep her from being beautiful in an earthy,
    real way. Beneath the dime-store makeup, hers was a face that radiated
    character, broken hearts, and honest hard work. It was heart-shaped with
    prominent cheekbones and a slim, straight nose, lean-cheeked and bony,
    as if the fat beneath the skin had been boiled away in the steamy heat
    of the diner kitchen. Her mane of dark hair was as frizzy as a Brillo
    pad, its thickness clamped back with a silver barrette. The pink and
    white polyester uniform was a holdover from the seventies. It buttoned
    over nonexistent breasts, nipped in on a slender waist, and hugged a set
    of hips that looked as if they had been specifically designed for a man
    to hang on to during sex.
     
    "This must be the best restaurant in town," Marilee said, clutching an
    armload of Montana travel books against the front of her oversize denim
    jacket.
     
    "You better believe it, honey," the waitress said with a grin. "If
    there's a line of pickups out front and dogs begging at the door, you
    know you'll get a good, honest meal. No skimping here, and the coffee's
    always hot and strong."
     
    "I'm sold."
     
    Nora shot a discreet glance at the brown and white polka-dot dress that
    swirled around Marilee's calves and the paddock boots and baggy crew
    socks, but there was no flash of disapproval in her eyes. Marilee liked
    her instantly.
     
    "I love your hair," the waitress said. "That your real color?"
     
    Marilee grinned. "Yep."
     
    She followed Nora inside and slid into a high-backed booth that gave her
    a view out the wide front window.
     
    She deposited her books on the Formica table and forgot them as she
    tried to absorb everything she could about this first experience in the
    Rainbow. She had read every travel guide and tourist brochure there was
    anyway. One of her vows to herself when she had decided on a new life
    was not to let it speed past her while she was too busy trying to fit
    in. She had spent too much time with her nose to the grindstone, the
    world and its people hurtling past her in a blur. When she had decided
    to come to Montana, she had gone to the library and checked out and read
    every book available about the state. She had immersed herself in tales
    of cattle barons and copper barons and robber