As much as I may have looked like the sort of guy who liked to live off the grid, I liked my electronics. Mostly because they meant I could usually have supplies delivered to me rather than going into Rawlins for them. It was a nice enough town, but still…people.

I’d put it off for as long as possible, but now I had things that I could only get in town. Or, at least, things that I preferred to get from local sources. I wasn’t so much of an antisocial bastard that I wouldn’t support locals, even if they didn’t deliver.

When it came to lumber, there was only one place to go here. McPherson’s. Wyatt McPherson was from one of the founding families of Rawlins, and in some places, I knew that would’ve meant he could pretty much do what he wanted. Hell, my family hadn’t been one of Boston’s founding families, but we’d had enough money that my brothers and I had gotten away with more than we should have. Wyatt wasn’t like that though. He and his huge family were as down to earth as anyone.

If I liked people, I would’ve liked them.

I pulled my truck up to the loading dock and saw that Wyatt already had my order stacked and ready to go. By the time I was up on the dock, Wyatt and his two oldest kids – Lucinda and Scott – were waiting.

“Good morning, Blake.” His voice was as gruff as ever, but he was smiling.

“Morning, Wyatt.”

We’d both come to an unspoken agreement when we’d first met that we’d be on a first-name basis even though he was probably close to Grandfather’s age.

“Lucinda. Scott.” I nodded at them, and they nodded back.

“Let’s get him loaded up,” Wyatt said. As his kids moved to do just that, Wyatt turned to me. “Mind if I ask what all that’s for?”

I stuck my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing a couple two-by-fours. I’d done that the first time I’d ordered from McPherson’s, only to have Wyatt reprimand me. I’d thought it was some bullshit about customers not getting their hands dirty, but then he’d explained to me that his business insurance would have a fit if a customer got hurt. I didn’t like standing around while other people did work, but I understood respecting a person’s business.

“I got a customer who wants me to build him a rowboat.”

Wyatt gave me a sideways look and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes.

“I thought you quit,” I said as he lit one.

“I thought people usually bought their boats already made,” he countered.

I shrugged. “This guy wants it to look like he built it himself for his girlfriend. Supposed to be some sort of romantic gesture to his girl.”

Wyatt snorted, then took a drag on his cigarette. “Damn fools.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered.

“Still don’t have a girl, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not going out with your granddaughter.”

He snorted again. “You think you’re too good for my family?”

“I think your granddaughter is eighteen, and I’m twenty-eight.”

“Dad are you trying to set Jessie up with someone a decade older than her?” Scott asked. “I thought we talked about this.”

“You’d rather she gets serious with that college boy she brought home for Christmas? Damn city boy.”

It was Scott’s turn to roll his eyes, but he didn’t argue. Wyatt wasn’t really trying to set me up with Jessie. It was just our thing. How we passed the time while the truck was loaded so I didn’t feel guilty for not helping.

“You’re just making a rowboat?” Wyatt asked. “Damn big boat.”

I barked a laugh. “Yeah, well, this guy doesn’t want some SS Minnow. He’s got it in his head that if he has this fancy boat, she’s going to accept his proposal.”

“Women don’t care about that,” Wyatt said. “Well, they might care, but it won’t change the answer. Ask ‘em simple or ask ‘em expensive, if they’re going to say yes, that’s what it’ll be, no matter the where or how.”

Now it was my turn to give him a sideways look. That was the most I’d heard him say at one go. “You trying to give me dating advice?”

“I’m just saying that when I asked my Nancy, I just asked her. Didn’t need a fancy ring or anything like that.”

“The way Mom tells it,” Lucinda said, “you didn’t actually ask her at all. You basically told her you two were getting married.”

Wyatt shrugged and took another drag on his cigarette. “Point is, she still said yes. And we’ve been married forty-seven years.”

Forty-seven years.

I couldn’t imagine being with someone that long. Grandfather and Grandma Olive had made it that far. Mom and Dad probably would have too if…

Nope.

Not going there.

“All set,” Scott said, dusting off his hands.

“Thanks.” I shook hands all around this time, then reached into my pocket and pulled out several folded bills. I handed them over and then headed back to my truck.

I had non-perishables delivered, but when I wanted fresh produce, I went to The Peach and Plum Market. It wasn’t really the season for anything fresh, but I’d rather get it here than somewhere else. The only drawback was the usual cashier had a thing for me and hadn’t accepted that I wasn’t interested.

I picked up a basket and went straight for what I needed. A couple apples, pears, carrots, a few other things here and there. The place wasn’t busy for a Friday afternoon, but I still avoided eye contact with anyone who happened to walk by. Most people in Rawlins knew who I was – well, the reclusive blacksmith part of me anyway – but if I looked at anyone, they’d still try to talk to me. Best to keep moving.

“Hi, Blake.”

“Morning,” I mumbled. I didn’t look up from the things I was putting on the conveyer belt.

“Trish,” she said in that same bubbly voice. “It’s Trish.”

I grunted. If I said I remembered her, she’d read too much into it. If I said I didn’t, she’d be upset. Better a noncommittal response.

“I think it’s going to snow again,” she continued. “It doesn’t seem fair, does it? That it’s almost spring and it’s still snowing. I can’t wait until I get out of here and go somewhere that is warm all the time. Nashville is my first choice. I’m going to be a singer.”

She paused, and I knew if I looked up, I’d see an expectant light in those blue eyes. It was the same one I always saw when I came here. She was bound and determined to get my attention.

Which meant I had to ignore her.

I used my card while she packed up my food, then left without looking at her once. Trish was a pretty enough woman, but I wasn’t going there. Aside from the fact that I had a feeling she’d be clingy, she wasn’t discreet. I didn’t need the whole damn town in my personal life.

I set my groceries in the passenger’s seat and then leaned back against my truck. Trish was probably right about the snow. I could feel it in the air. It shouldn’t be a storm, but I didn’t want to risk running out of anything, so I took a minute to think over everything I had to pick up, as well as what I had at home.

I wasn’t really looking anywhere specific when I was thinking, but then a flash of something caught my eye. I’d seen the shop before, I knew. I had to have seen it since it was right across from the barber where I get my hair cut, but somehow it had never really registered in my mind. Then my brain processed the name: Grow ‘n Heal.

Now I remembered. A couple years ago, some of the men had been talking about it when I’d been getting a haircut. According to Palmer Griffith who owned a cattle ranch on the other side of town, when he’d first seen the young woman moving in, he’d thought she was opening a nursery – a plant nursery – because she’d had all sorts of plants in pots, but no cut flowers. But when Palmer and his wife Cleo had gone over to see what the new shop had to offer, they saw it was a little…different.

Potted plants, sure, but most of them weren’t the normal sorts of flowers. There were some lilies, roses, tulips, that sort of thing, but most of the plants were ones they didn’t recognize. And then they’d seen that plants weren’t all that was being sold.

Teas. Potpourri. Decorative dried arrangements. And a whole section of what Palmer called ‘New Age crap.’ Herbal remedies, supplements, that sort of thing.

I got the point of vitamins in general, but I thought people put far too much faith in them. I didn’t believe a person could go pick a weed, eat it, and suddenly their memory would improve. Tea was for drinking, and maybe it’d help with a sore throat, but that was the extent of its ‘medicinal powers.’

“New Age fluff,” I said with a sigh. I pushed myself off the truck, shaking my head. The things people would believe.

That glint of light came again, and this time, I recognized it as the sunlight reflecting off the chain holding up the open / closed sign. Someone was flipping it over to say it was closed. I caught a glimpse of a flowered skirt, but nothing else. I supposed it was the young woman who owned the place. I didn’t know if I’d ever seen her before, or if I’d even heard her name, but I didn’t really care.

Someone like her, into all that flower power free love shit, wasn’t someone I’d be interested in talking to, so there was no point in meeting her.