A Cowboy In Her Arms. Mary Leo

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      The strong scent of sawdust and paint permeated the air as Joel made his way inside. The floors were well-worn, scuffed, wide wooden planks, and most of the counters and the checkout area still retained the original wooden designs. Natural light poured in from the countless windows in the building. One of the two cash registers hailed from sometime in the early 1900s, while the other more modern register was tucked away behind a large basket of local russet potatoes. The modern credit card scanners had been placed inside wooden crates that had seen better days.

      Joel walked through the roofing section of the store, occasionally stopping to sort through the various tiles to find the replacements he needed.

      “Polly’s roof was probably originally put up in the seventies, if you’re looking to match it,” a now-familiar voice said coming from somewhere behind him. His instincts told him to ignore Callie Grant and walk right out of the store, but he knew he couldn’t leave without his supplies. Besides, he didn’t want to be downright rude. He reluctantly turned to face her as she continued to talk tiles. “They keep some older tiles out back for the locals, but your chance of finding the exact match is pretty slim. Did you look out in Polly’s barn? Chances are there’s some extras stored out there along with extra flooring, paint that was used on the walls and whatever else you might need to repair and replace what’s broken. I bet there’s even a few matching cabinet doors and some old fence pipe out there, as well.”

      “Thanks for the tip,” Joel told Callie, trying his best not to seem pleased to see her again. She looked different without her tiara, especially now that her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She wore a peach-colored sundress that made her dark skin glow, and she smelled like apples, or maybe that was just his overactive imagination.

      “I’m surprised Polly hadn’t mentioned it.”

      “She did, but the barn is in such bad shape that I didn’t think anything could survive out there.”

      “You’d be surprised. You might want to take a look before you spend good money on something you already have.” She took a step back. “Funny, but I never pictured you as a handyman type of guy.”

      “And I never saw you as a beauty queen. Why didn’t you tell me?”

      She shrugged. “The subject never came up.”

      “How would I have ever known to ask?”

      “That’s just it. You and your friends were from Boise, the big city, while I was from small-town Briggs. I wanted to fit in.”

      It was the first time Joel ever realized that Callie had been embarrassed about her past, as if growing up in a small town had been something to be ashamed of.

      “Goes to show you how much we didn’t know about each other. I was jealous about your roots, about your closeness with your family, this town. I never had any of that growing up. I wish I could have seen you in that pageant. How old were you?”

      He could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. That for some reason, it still embarrassed her.

      “Seventeen. And believe me, I was talked into entering, but this, finding you fishing through asphalt roof tiles, well now, that’s something to behold. When did you get into roofing?”

      He wasn’t sure if she was pulling his chain or sincerely wanted to know about his new interest in DIY projects. Either way, he was feeling a little embarrassed himself. “Only recently.”

      “As in, since you moved onto the Double S Ranch?”

      “Yeah, but I’ve got a good handle on this. Should be an easy fix.”

      He continued to search through the different-colored tiles, hoping against hope he’d find a match. He’d already loaded his shopping cart with tar paper, something called a flat bar, a good solid hammer, roofing nails, roof cement, a trowel and a staple gun with extra staples. He was set for anything.

      She glanced over at his cart and he wanted to snatch it away, but instead he ignored her.

      “You might want to ask Hank Marsh about fixing that roof. It’s older and will probably require some extra skills. Hank can fix anything, and knows just about everything there is to know about making repairs inside or outside a house, a barn or a stable.”

      But Joel didn’t want Hank’s help. He didn’t want anyone’s help, and he especially didn’t want Callie’s.

      “There’s Hank now.” She called out his name as the older, white-haired gentleman in the short-sleeved powder blue shirt shuffled by, causing him to stop in his tracks and walk their way. Hank wore a wide grin, round frameless glasses, and sported a thick white mustache. He looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies and about as wizened as a dried fig. From the look on his face, seeing Callie Grant had to be the highlight of his morning.

      “Mornin’, Miss Grant. That was quite a parade we had yesterday, more fun than any of the parades I’ve seen in one heck of a long time. Can always depend on the Grant family to stir things up in this here sleepy town. Glad you didn’t disappoint.”

      “It really wasn’t my fault... Apple Sammy wouldn’t cooperate.”

      “Uh-huh. What can I do you and this young fella for this morning?”

      Joel wondered what other chaos the Grant family had caused in the town. He really wanted to ask, but he also wanted to buy his basket of home improvement paraphernalia and get the heck out of there. “Nothing. Thanks. I’m fine. I know exactly what I need.”

      “Just hold on a minute. Joel’s fixing the ranch house roof on the Double S. I thought maybe you’d have some pointers for him, Hank.”

      “’Bout time somebody shored up that there property. Been neglected for way too long. That must mean that Polly Sloan is gonna stay put. Heard the news yesterday from Phyllis Gabaur during the parade that the filly was in town, but Phyllis ain’t always reliable with her information. Glad this time she was right. Then you must be that young man I’ve been hearing about.” Hank extended his hand and Joel took it, but that was about as far as he wanted to pursue this conversation.

      Polly had warned him that folks in this town liked to know your business...all of your business. Joel wasn’t in the mood to spill any details this morning.

      “Sorry to hear about your loss, son. Heck of a thing for your mate to pass so young, ’specially since you’ve got a little one. Glad Polly brought you to this here town. Best therapy in the world for a youngster is to grow up on a ranch.” He glanced down at Joel’s shopping cart and shook his head. “Mm-mm-mm! You sure aren’t gonna be able to fix that old roof with what you got in that there cart. For one thing, are you repairin’ a valley leak, a window leak, the vent or the chimney? They each require special consideration. Or are you just replacing the entire roof, which is probably your best bet. That roof ain’t been touched for more years than those tiles were made to last. Plus, in my opinion, roofin’ is dangerous business, son. Unless you’re a professional, I wouldn’t advise goin’ anywhere near it. Might slide off and break your neck.”

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