Designs on the Cowboy

by Roxann Delaney

  She understood that this was the way it was in small towns. In a big city, it didn’t matter. A job was a job, and most people didn’t know the other contractors, unless they’d worked with them before. “I heard good things about Ned Parker, so he’s doing it.”

  He nodded. “I don’t think he’ll disappoint you.”

  “I have some things to get out of my car, and then I’ll be working in the living room.” She pointed to the doorway. “If you need me, I’ll be in there.”

  “Yes’m,” he replied, and began to lay out his tools.

  Satisfied that she could leave him to his work, she returned to her car for a box. After spending the past week stripping wallpaper upstairs in what she had chosen to be the master bedroom, she’d done some research and come up with what she hoped would make the job in the living room go more quickly.

  Closing the car door, she glanced toward the barn and, to her surprise, she caught sight of Dylan, standing in the doorway of the barn and looking her way. A second later, he was gone, and she wondered if he’d been watching her.

  “Of course not,” she scolded herself, under her breath. He wasn’t interested in her, only her work, and barely that, considering how much she’d seen him since she’d started working on the house. “You’re letting your imagination run away with you, and for no reason.”

  In the house again, she put thoughts of Dylan Walker as far away as possible and concentrated on dampening the old wallpaper with a mixture of water and vinegar, applied with a mister attached to an old canister vacuum she’d found. To her surprise, it helped, and she was busy spraying and stripping when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dylan walk in.

  “What’s that smell?” he asked over the noise.

  “Vinegar,” she told him, turning off the vacuum. “It’s supposed to help cut the wallpaper paste. They didn’t make strippable paper back when this was hung.”

  “I guess it’s been there for as long as I can remember.”

  There was a note of pure sadness in his voice, and she didn’t know how to respond to it. Deciding it was probably best not to, she said instead, “While you’re here...”

  He ducked his head and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah?”

  His eyes had narrowed, but she’d quickly learned it meant nothing. “It would be a big help if I knew what furniture you want to keep and what to get rid of.”

  For a moment, she was frightened by the look on his face. It was so intense, she couldn’t even put a name to it.

  “Get rid of all of it,” he said with a wave of his hand. Turning around, he strode to the door.

  But Glory wasn’t ready to let him walk out on such an announcement. She didn’t know what she had said to upset him, but she couldn’t just let him leave.

  “Wait, Dylan,” she said and hurried to catch him. When she did, she placed her hand on his arm. “We need to talk about this.”

  He stopped and looked down at her hand on his arm. She immediately withdrew it. Turning to face her he asked, “What’s there to talk about?”

  Resolving not to let him intimidate her, she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. “Most of the furniture is too good to simply throw away. Are you sure you don’t want to keep it?”

  “I don’t need it, do I? Can’t you just clear it all out and replace it with new furniture?”

  She noticed that his jaw had tightened, and she sensed she needed to stay calm and explain. “Of course I can,” she assured him. “But throwing it away is foolish. Many of these things might be old, but they’re well made. Some could even be collector’s items.”

  His eyes narrowed again, but this time it seemed more thoughtful than intimidating. “Like the antiques I saw in your shop?”

  Relieved that he was beginning to understand, she nodded. “Some of them.”

  “So take them and sell them, if they’ll make money for you.”

  She tried not to smile. “I think I have a better idea. Why don’t I sell them on consignment? That way, we’d both benefit. That’s what Gram and I agreed to do if people brought things in to sell.”

  “So you keep part of the money and I get the rest?”

  She tried to ignore his frown. “Exactly.”

  “I don’t need the money.”

  “Then give it to charity. It doesn’t matter to me who gets it.”

  He seemed to consider the suggestion, but didn’t say anything. When he started to walk away, she wasn’t ready for him to leave yet. “Maybe we should go through things today. The more I can move out of here, the better.”

  “Not today.”

  He sounded so final that she nearly took a step back. “All right. What about tomorrow? I might be able to find a few high school boys to help load the furniture, if you and Luke could provide the pickups to haul it to my shop.”

  “Not tomorrow, either. I’ll be in the city.”

  “Oh.” She hoped she didn’t sound as disappointed as she felt. Not that she had a reason to be.

  “Hayley’s getting her master’s degree at OU Med Center tomorrow. And then there’s some kind of party for her in town, after that.”

  Glory suddenly felt left out, but dismissed it, reminding herself that she’d been gone for too many years to simply pick up where she’d left off. “That’s wonderful, Dylan. Please tell her congratulations for me.”

  Without saying anything else, he nodded and left the room. She remembered him being quiet in school, but not nearly so serious. If only she could see a glimpse of that boy he had been.

  It didn’t matter, she told herself, getting back to work. At least she’d have a couple of days to work on the house, without anyone around. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but she would miss seeing him, although he’d left no doubt that having her around was more of a nuisance than anything else—proof that she needed to keep her work and career uppermost in her mind. The question was whether she could.

  Chapter Three

  Dylan couldn’t believe he’d let his brother talk him into staying late at the reception after Hayley’s graduation. Even worse, what on earth had possessed him to let them drag him along afterward to a late dinner with a good twenty people he hadn’t the least desire to talk to? The best part was that it was over, and he wouldn’t have to deal with something like it again. Except Luke and Hayley’s wedding, and there’d be no begging off of that.

  As he turned into the drive leading to his house, he was surprised to see Glory’s car still there. It was close to midnight, and he hoped she wasn’t still working. Getting out of the car, he grunted his concern. He’d have to start paying her overtime.

  Having her around had become an interesting experience. She hadn’t been someone in school that a person could ignore, but he hadn’t known her well. Not that he needed to. In fact, the less he saw of her, the better.

  Ready to tell her in no uncertain terms to go home, he spied her before he stepped from the porch into the open kitchen doorway. Her head rested on a stack of what he guessed were books containing some kind of samples, while she slept soundly, oblivious to the fact that he was in the room.

  He watched her, knowing he might seem a little like a stalker, but he couldn’t stop himself. Her lips were slightly parted, as if she had something she wanted to say, and a strand of hair had fallen across the slender bridge of her nose, while thick eyelashes rested on creamy skin. She looked like an angel. An imperfect one, but beautiful, all the same. He knew he shouldn’t stand there and stare.

  Looking up, he noticed the upper cabinets were missing. He couldn’t imagine that the job would be done in two months. It seemed that the longer the remodeling went on, the worse it got. The kitchen was only one room. There was no telling what the rest of the house looked like.

  Stepping as lightly as possible, he moved to
his right and slipped into the dining room. Even that rarely used room was a mess. The curtains had been removed and the floor was covered in plastic. The heavy dining table and ten chairs were stacked in a corner, beneath more plastic. The wallpaper was mostly gone, and he wrinkled his nose at the smell of vinegar that filled the air.

  In the living room, he found the same conditions, although it was hard to see in the dark. When he flipped the light switch, he discovered the lights weren’t working. After taking a closer look, he saw that the fixtures were gone. Everything was chaos.

  He turned to find Glory standing in the doorway to the kitchen, watching him. He didn’t doubt that he looked angry. He’d never seen such a disaster in his life, and although something inside him didn’t want to upset her with his quickly growing fury, he knew he’d failed by the fear on her face.

  “I know it looks like it’ll never be done, right now,” she said, her voice husky with sleep.

  “Yeah, it does” was all he could say. He watched as she lifted her chin, but he didn’t know if it was in pride or defiance. No matter which one it was, he couldn’t tell her it was all right, because it wasn’t.

  “I promise it will be better.” Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath. “It really will. It’ll only be like this for a few days.”

  He winced at the thought of dealing with the mess for much longer. “How many?”

  “Well...” She glanced around the room before offering him a weak smile. “The kitchen will probably be the last to be finished.”

  “When?”

  “Two or three weeks. Maybe four?”

  He tried not to let her see how disappointed he was and how angry that made him. He usually had more control, but with Glory, he was learning that control wasn’t always so easy. “I guess it’s too late to change my mind.”

  He hadn’t meant for it to sound the way it had come out of his mouth. He’d been half joking. Before he could take it back or explain, she turned and disappeared down the hall. “Glory,” he called, but all he heard was her footsteps on the wood floor.

  A moment later, she answered. “It really will be better soon.”

  Relief swept through him, but he wasn’t sure why. “Okay, I believe you.” Did he have a choice?

  She reappeared in the dining room doorway, having obviously circled around through the kitchen. “Thanks for trying.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Yes, you are.” She smiled. “It’s all right. I really do understand that it seems like the work will never get done,” she said, waving her arm to encompass the whole house. “But if you’ll just be patient—”

  “It’s not—”

  “Don’t say it, please,” she begged.

  He wasn’t the kind of man who enjoyed hurting someone, and he wouldn’t make her the exception. “It was a shock to see it, that’s all,” he explained when she came into the room. “I’m sure you’ll make it right.”

  She settled on what he suspected was the large sofa, hidden beneath a white sheet. “You hope it will be all right.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She leaned her head back against the sofa and laughed. “No, I suppose you don’t, although it’s always a possibility.” Closing her eyes, she sighed and smiled. “Tell me what it was like growing up here in this house.”

  Her request surprised him, and he wasn’t sure how to answer. He also wasn’t sure he wanted to take a trip back to a past he’d spent fifteen years trying not to think about. “There’s not much to tell.”

  She turned her head and looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  His answer was a shrug. The way she sat studying him was causing his body to react in ways it shouldn’t have, and he looked away.

  “I know you all worked hard. That’s always a given on a farm or a ranch. And you know it wasn’t like that for me. But that’s not what I’m asking about.”

  In the silence that followed, he knew she was waiting for him to say something. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Okay.” He heard her take a deep breath. “What’s your best memory of growing up?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I have any.”

  “Oh, surely you do!”

  He was forced to look at her. “No, really. I don’t remember much.”

  She shook her head, her disbelief achingly clear. “All right. I understand that you don’t want to share with me.”

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just—”

  “It’s all right, Dylan,” she said, straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. “I have my own memories.”

  She’d grabbed his curiosity, so when she started to stand, he couldn’t let her leave it at that. “Like what?”

  “Like that hayride you don’t remember. All the times Tracy— You remember Tracy Billings? She was my best friend. When we weren’t riding horses at her place in the summer, we were hiding under the bleachers at the park to watch you at Little League practice.”

  “You’re kidding,” he said, sure they’d done no such thing.

  “Not at all.”

  “Someone would have seen you.”

  Her smile was impish. “You have no idea how sneaky little girls can be when they want to watch little boys they have crushes on.”

  “Crushes?” Now she’d snagged his attention and he wanted to hear more. Had he really been one of those crushes?

  With an odd smile, she gave him a dismissive wave of her hand and looked away. “Lots of them. A new one every summer. Sometimes.” She turned back toward him. “Baseball was important to you, wasn’t it?”

  “More important than breathing.” He’d won an athletic scholarship to college, but he hadn’t taken it. After his parents’ accident, he felt he had to stay and help keep the ranch running. Luke had still been in high school, and Erin had offered to stay and help.

  “Those were some of the best times of my life,” she said. “Those times with Tracy when we were kids.”

  He was surprised to hear the sadness in her voice, but didn’t ask why. It wasn’t any of his business.

  “If it’s all right,” she said, standing, “I’ll straighten up a little and go home. I’m tired.” She walked toward the kitchen, then stopped and looked back at him. “I promise it will get better. Okay?”

  He nodded and she disappeared, leaving him with questions and a tiny hole in the wall he’d built around his memories for the past fifteen years. He wondered if she had any idea what that meant to him. He’d forgotten how happy his childhood had been. He just wasn’t sure yet if that was good or bad and hoped he wouldn’t regret it when he learned which one.

  * * *

  GLORY’S SIGH ECHOED in the upstairs hallways. Once again, she’d forgotten something. This time it was the faceplates for the wall switches. The electrician would arrive soon to put the new light fixtures in the bedrooms, and she’d wanted everything to be ready. Now she’d have to make a trip into town.

  “Hey, Miz Andrews?”

  She smiled at the luck she’d had in hiring three high school boys to help out. It hadn’t hurt that one of them had grown up helping his mother wallpaper, and that another was a wizard with a paintbrush.

  As she started down the stairs, she spied the tall, dark-haired young man waiting at the bottom. “What is it, Mark?”

  “Stu said he’d be here a little late. He promised his mom he’d go with her to the farmer’s market this morning, now that school is out. He said to tell you he’ll stay late, if you need him.”

  She stopped two steps from the bottom of the stairs and looked directly at Mark. A blush crept up his face, and he looked down as she spoke. “I don’t see why he’ll need to stay late. And you’re here awfully early, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,”
he answered, still refusing to meet her gaze. “I woke up early and thought I’d give you a hand with whatever needed to get done this morning before Brent gets here.”

  “I really appreciate that, Mark. The electrician should be arriving anytime, so I’m glad you’ll be here when he does. I need to run into town for the faceplates, and Mr. Walker seems to have been an early riser, too.”

  “No problem.”

  She smiled. The boys were eager to help, and she counted herself very lucky to have them. Dylan had made himself scarce since their little bit of reminiscing on Saturday night. No matter how early she arrived, he was gone, and she suspected he was avoiding her. It was just as well. She needed to focus on the job, not him. Even so, it would be wise to let him know she was leaving, just in case someone needed her.

  She took the last two steps. “I’ll let Mr. Walker know I’m leaving.”

  Mark nodded and moved out of the way as she walked to the kitchen. Grabbing her bag, she looped it over her shoulder and went outside, heading for the barn.

  It was a beautiful morning, with only a hint of a breeze stirring the leaves on the trees. Dew glittered in the sunshine, and the scent of flowers drifted around her. There was so much she loved about her hometown and the surrounding countryside. In spite of her failed marriage, she’d enjoyed living in North Carolina and marveled at the beauty of Charlotte. But Desperation, Oklahoma, would always be home to her.

  As she walked closer to the barn, she spotted Dylan’s pickup parked on the far side. At least she’d been right, she thought, as she climbed through the corral fence. Moving to the oversize opening of the big barn, she waited for her eyes to adjust, and then looked around for Dylan.

  If she hadn’t seen movement out of the corner of her eye, she might have missed him as he worked along the back wall of the barn. “There you are,” she called to him.

  He stopped and looked in her direction. “What are you doing out here? You’ll get dirty.”

  “Like when I’m in the house stripping wallpaper and sanding?”

  “Worse. That’s nothing but dried paste and some dust. This is—”