Page 56 of Wrecked for Love
Noah had made himself unreachable, determined to forget his past. And if anyone could understand that, it was me.
Life went on. Ranch work waited, and broken tools were as common as town gossip. I needed bolts, a heavy-duty chain, and a new round-point shovel because, apparently, my old one had run off with my patience. So, off to Paul’s hardware shop, I went.
When I walked in, instead of Paul, I found his daughter, Annette, at the counter. She mostly stayed in the back, like Claire used to, so we never really talked much.
“Hey there, Annette. How’s it going?” I asked, giving her a nod. “School treating you okay? You ready for winter break yet?” It wasn’t like me to chit-chat, especially with teenagers, but for some reason, I found myself genuinely curious about how she was doing. Maybe it was Claire softening me up a bit, or maybe I just wanted to make the girl smile for once.
Annette blinked at me, her mouth slightly open as if I’d just asked her to solve a complex math problem. Small talk wasn’t exactly in my wheelhouse. And apparently, she wasn’t used to it either. Usually, I just grunted my way through the shop, grabbed what I needed, and was on my way. But today? Maybe it was thefact that Claire had put me in such a good mood that I felt like I could strike up a conversation with a fence post.
Hell, I wasn’t even sure what answer I expected. All I knew was that I wasn’t just here for bolts and wrenches. I was enjoying the small-town rhythm for once, and that involved a little conversation with the folks who kept this place running.
But Annette was beyond saving. For a second, I thought she might’ve swallowed her tongue. Without a word, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the stockroom.
I shook my head and laughed to myself, figuring I’d wait a bit. But then, I heard her voice carry through the thin walls.
“Claire! He spoke to me!” Annette’s voice was a blend of excitement and disbelief.
“Who are you talking about?” Claire asked, poking her head out from behind a shelf, her silhouette barely visible.
“Your ‘uh-um,’” she said. I could almost see her winking. Then her voice dropped slightly. “Elia. What did you do to him? He looked…different.”
“Different? How?” Claire said.
“Geez! Don’t you get it? Hespoketo me. Normally, he just shows up, snags his gear, and peaces out. Dad’s always tried to make small talk, but Elia never greets me like that.”
Claire chuckled. “Maybe it’s because you never gave him a chance.”
Annette huffed. “Give him a chance? Claire, you don’t understand. The man is like a brick wall. It’s like trying to get a smile out of a horse in a dentist’s chair.”
It took everything in me not to laugh out loud. Annette was something else. But truly, I hadn’t realized how much I’d changed until that moment. Right then, Paul came back to the counter, wiping his hands on a rag as he’d probably just wrestled with some dusty old tools.
“Morning, El,” Paul greeted with a nod. “Need more stuff to patch up that ranch of yours, huh?”
I grinned. “You know how it goes, Paul. Something’s always broken. If it ain’t the fence, it’s the tractor. If it ain’t the tractor, it’s the shack.”
Paul nodded repeatedly. “Well, at least the people ain’t broken…yet. Can’t have everything fallin’ apart on ya, right?”
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, one crisis at a time.”
Paul smirked. “You’re tellin’ me. Last week, I spent half a day tryin’ to fix a leaky roof. Turns out, I needed a new roof altogether. You’d think after owning this place for thirty years, I’d know how to patch a hole properly.”
“Sounds about right,” I replied. “Anything new come in? I need some extra bolts, and Hank’s been nagging me for a decent set of wrenches.”
Paul scratched his chin. “Wrenches, huh? Got a shipment in the other day. And if Hank’s nagging, you better get on that before he drives you nuts.”
Who would’ve thought small talk at a hardware store could be so…entertaining?
“How’s your stash of winter gear holding up?” Paul asked. “Might want to grab what you need before the snow sneaks up.”
“I think we’re good. Got the snowblower primed, the heaters lined up, and a mountain of wood pellets.”
“That’s good prep. Well, you know where I am if you need more salt or another snow shovel—open all winter long.”
Grinning, I grabbed what I needed, tossed it on the counter, and Paul rang me up. As he bagged the last item, he glanced at me.
“Heard about your Diesel incident the other day,” he said casually but with a knowing look.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Did you hear if anyone else around here has had fencing problems lately?”
