She said to remind you that the ladies’ meeting is this evening.” I just hope none of it breaks on the way.” “No, this is the last one, but you can nail them up for me if you’d like.” With her hands protected by gloves she concentrated on cutting through the wire. “She asked if it was okay if her room is made pretty next.” He didn’t know if she was pulling his leg or not. I thought I’d find little things for her to help with after school. It was difficult to explain how coming home to her made him feel but it warmed the places gone cold since Adele’s passing. She looked up as he stepped out of the door. Just as Anna said, Regan was on the back porch using a pair of tin snips on a large roll of window screening. Last spring her husband, also named Wallace, abandoned her and their son to take up with a young woman he met in Casper. “Good.” Denby’s daughter-in-law, Dovie, was the boy’s mother and the town’s seamstress. He said he’s going to tell Wallace’s mama if it happens again.” Wallace was Moss Denby’s seven-year-old grandson and a known terror. “Wallace Denby tripped me when I walked by his desk.” “She’s outside cutting screens to put on the windows until the glass comes.” She said we’re going to make my room pretty next.” She paused and asked hopefully, “Is that all right?” “I see.” There were spots of paint on her nose and left cheek. “Anna?” he said, voice filled with surprise. He came home late one afternoon to find his denim-clad daughter on her knees in the washroom applying a new coat of white paint to the claw feet of the now sparkling clean tub. The old carpenter was skeptical at first but was soon impressed by her skills, and Colt was glad he wasn’t the only one dazzled by all that she was. True to her word, Regan pitched in to help by sanding the floors, applying plaster, and offering to assist with anything else Porter needed doing.
In the days that followed, Colt’s quiet well-ordered life was obliterated by the comings and goings of Porter James and his crew of carpenters with their accompanying racket of sawing and hammering as they worked on his mother’s old bedroom.
She replied softly, “Enjoy your reading.”
She was changing him and he wasn’t sure where to stand.
It was a poor excuse, which left him no happier with himself than she apparently was. He’d never been one to express his feelings, and even though what he felt for her seemed to be growing and expanding, he was more comfortable remaining the man he’d always been. After what they’d shared last night, greeting her kindly had been warranted, but he hadn’t. He remembered how irritated and disappointed she’d been that morning when he hadn’t returned her smile. And he had more but no idea how to express it. She nodded and continued to hold his gaze as if waiting for him to say more.
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