Real Vintage Maverick

“Didn’t say there was,” he pointed out. “Just not used to it, that’s all.”

Fair enough, Catherine thought. She pushed the gaily wrapped gift a little closer toward him on the counter. “So, about that bigger box, do you want it?” she wanted to know.

He was planning on mailing the gift once he left the shop. He supposed that having Catherine provide a box to ship the gift in would be exceedingly helpful in moving things along.

“Sure, I could use it,” he allowed. Then he mumbled, “Thanks.”

Her smile was triumphant. “You’re welcome.” And then she couldn’t help adding, “There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” she asked. Because she saw the furrow that had formed across his forehead that indicated to her that he was trying to understand what she was referring to, Catherine clued him in. “Saying thank you,” she explained. “That wasn’t so hard, right?”

Rather than answer her question, or say anything in response, Catherine saw that Cody was looking down at her left hand. Was he checking her out or about to say something flippant about her single status?

In either case, she decided to beat him to the punch. “No, I’m not married.”

Cody nodded as if he had expected nothing else. “That explains it.”

This time it was her turn to be confused. “Explains what?”

“Explains why you’re showering me with all these questions,” Cody told her. Then, because she apparently didn’t understand what he was telling her, he elaborated, “You don’t have anyone to talk to.”

She felt a little sorry for the man. He obviously hadn’t had the kind of upbringing and family life that she’d experienced. And, to some extent, was still experiencing.

“Oh, I’ve got people to talk to,” she assured him. “Lots of people.”

“Then what’s with all the questions?” he wanted to know.

“I’m just a naturally curious person,” Catherine explained.

Was Cody trying to tell her something? He didn’t strike her as a man who worried about being perceived as subtle. If there was something that bothered him, she had a feeling he’d tell her.

Maybe not, a little voice in her head whispered. She’d better clear things up now, if that was the case.

“If that’s going to be a problem …”

She let her voice trail off so that he could put his own interpretation to what she was driving at.

“No, no problem,” he told her. “But it’s going to take some getting used to if you’re going to be ‘picking my brain.’” He used her words to describe their working arrangement.

“You can always tell me to back off,” Catherine pointed out.

He was mildly surprised at what she’s just said. “And if I do, you’ll listen?”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle as they laughed at him. Cody found himself captivated. It took him a moment to retreat from the reaction.

“We’ll see” was all she could honestly tell him.

But it was an honest reaction and a man couldn’t ask for more than that, Cody thought. Honesty was a rare commodity.

“There you go,” she pronounced, placing the package wrapped up for shipping on the counter before him. “All ready to be mailed out.”

Cody nodded his head in approval as he regarded the box.

“Thanks.” He picked it up, then paused for a moment. “I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

“I certainly hope so.” And then she bit her lower lip. Did that sound more enthusiastic than she meant it to? Catherine looked at his face for some sign that she’d made him wary, or worse, and her prime target was going to change his mind and back away.

“How’s an hour in the morning every other day sound? Or whenever you can spare the time?” she quickly added.

“Whenever I can spare the time,” he echoed, touching two fingers to the brim of his black Stetson just before he walked out of the shop.

Catherine watched him walk down the street through the bay window she’d cleaned that morning. She had a very good feeling about this alliance she’d just struck up.

She smiled, well pleased. Getting back to work, she started humming to herself.

Chapter Three

The need to replenish some supplies in his walk-in pantry brought Cody back into Thunder Canyon a scant two days later.

At least, that was the excuse he gave himself and the two hands he had working for him on his ranch.

The younger of the two ranch hands—Kurt—knowing how much his reclusive boss disliked having to go into town, offered to run the errand for him.

To the surprise of both men, Cody declined, saying something to the effect that he wasn’t exactly sure just what he wanted to get. It was a comment that for the most part seemed completely out of character for Cody, a man who always knew exactly what he did or didn’t want at any given moment.

But the ranch hands knew better than to question their boss, so they merely nodded and got back to cleaning out the horse stalls.

Driving in, Cody took the long way around, passing by the former Tattered Saddle to see how it—and its new owner—was coming along.

The first thing that he noticed was that there was a new sign leaning against the wall just to the right of the front door. From its precarious position, he figured it was obviously waiting to be mounted.

Making a spur-of-the-moment decision, Cody parked his truck close by. Then he got out and crossed to the store to get a better look at the sign as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. The fact that he ordinarily didn’t possess a drop of curiosity about anything didn’t even occur to him or make him wonder at his own behavior.

So, she’d finally settled on a new name, he thought, looking at the freshly painted sign. Real Vintage Cowboy. It was all in tall capitals and printed in eye-catching silver paint.

Cody rolled the name over in his head a couple of times, then nodded to himself. If nothing else, it was a definite improvement over the store’s previous name. He’d never quite understood why anyone would want a “tattered” saddle anyway.

Telling himself it was time to get a move on, Cody wound up remaining just where he was. He glanced up and looked through the bay window into the showroom rather than moving back to his truck.

Inside, Catherine was cleaning up a storm, just as she had been doing for the last two days. Although her sisters had initially offered to pitch in and help, she’d stubbornly turned them down. This was something that she was determined to manage on her own.

This way, whatever happened, success or failure, it would be hers alone.

But there were times—such as now when every bone in her body seemed to be protesting that it had been worked too hard—that she felt that perhaps she’d been a wee bit too hasty in summarily turning down her sisters’ offer that way.

So when she saw Cody looking in, her heart all but leaped up in celebration. The cavalry had been sighted. Now all that was needed was to pull it in.

Wiping her hands on the back of the jeans she’d decided were more fitting to the work she was doing than the long flowing skirts that she favored, Catherine hurried to the door and quickly pulled it open.

“Hi!” she greeted him with no small measure of enthusiasm, beaming at Cody. “C’mon in,” she urged with feeling.