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Authors: Janet Tronstad

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BOOK: Wife Wanted in Dry Creek
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Conrad wasn’t like Pete. He wanted to get married—someday. He was just being careful about it.

And Tracy might be the one for him. Granted, she didn’t make his heart wobble, but he wouldn’t wake up one morning like his father, either. He hadn’t told his uncle, but there were days with his father that were so bleak Conrad didn’t even want to be in the same house with him. He was probably seven years old at the time and he would spend days in the barn with the cats and the chickens, all of which would have starved if he hadn’t taken over their feeding. Grief never left his father’s house until the day the man died of a heart attack. Conrad had just turned sixteen, so he was old enough to stay on the ranch alone.

His uncle might think there was something wrong with him taking the safe road when it came to romance,
but Conrad didn’t agree. Conrad had seen where the other road could take a man, and he never wanted to go there. Loving someone might seem good at first, but it could lead to unimaginable tragedy. He’d rather be alone than go through what his father had.

Chapter Four

K
atrina sipped on the hot lemon tea that Linda had put down in front of her.

“It’s a soothing drink for a stressful day,” the café owner said. “I sit down and have a cup myself on busy days.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Katrina said with a quick glance at Conrad. He had become distant when they came into this café and she thought she knew why. His uncle, probably without thinking, must have told the people here that she was on the verge of being arrested. She didn’t blame Conrad for wanting to be sure his friends knew he wasn’t getting too familiar with someone like that.

“I’m just passing through town,” she said, loudly enough for everyone to hear the words. Of course, technically the sheriff might have something to say about that, but she had to believe Leanne would answer the phone sometime today.

After Katrina’s declaration, no one even looked
back at her. Which was strange because they all seemed to have been looking at her before she spoke.

Linda excused herself and went to get the rest of their breakfast.

“Have you seen the new George Clooney movie?” Conrad asked.

“No, is there one?” Katrina’s attention was on the boys sitting at the table across from them. Linda had just set down pancakes in front of them that had mouse ears and what looked like dried blueberries for eyes. Or maybe the eyes were—

“Do kids choke on raisins?” she looked up and asked Conrad. He’d be the kind of guy to know something like that. He probably knew how to do the Heimlich maneuver, too.

“I suppose they could.” He looked startled. “It’s not likely, though. Why?”

She nodded her head toward the pancakes. “Look at that. They could get those raisins stuck in their throats and hurt themselves with those plastic juice glasses. I don’t know how parents do it.” She turned back and looked at him. “I’ve heard milk allergies can start around the boys’ ages. Do you think they should be drinking it?”

“What are they going to eat?” Conrad asked, looking bewildered.

She glanced over at her nephews and noticed they were eating too fast. And they had white rings of milk around their mouths. If they were allergic to something, she didn’t even know what to look for.

“I wonder if they have soy milk here.” Katrina started to look around for someone to ask. Fortunately, Linda was coming out of the kitchen with a couple of platters, probably for their table.

Katrina hadn’t been able to concentrate enough on the menu to actually pick something out, so she’d asked Conrad to order for her.

“That smells wonderful,” she said.

“There’s bacon,” Conrad said. “I wouldn’t have ordered it if I knew you were one of those soy kind of people. I don’t think Linda carries any of the bacon made out of vegetables.”

“Do they make such a thing?” Katrina asked. He had her attention now. She’d never seen a man so nervous. She finally understood. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to make a mad dash for freedom while I’m eating my bacon or anything.”

“Oh, I didn’t think—” He started but clearly couldn’t finish the sentence with a good conscience.

She felt the tears start in her eyes again. She blinked hard to make them go away. He was not really anyone to her. He was just fixing the muffler on her sister’s car. She’d pay him and that would be the end of it. She wasn’t good at relationships; she froze up when she should open up. She had a hard time telling people how she felt. But it was okay. There was no reason to care what he thought about her, anyway.

Linda set the two platters down on their table. “There you go. Two farm fresh breakfasts with fruit.”

“Thank you,” Katrina said as she looked up and
forced herself to smile. She wasn’t going to cry again today, especially not in front of this man.

“Conrad always orders the best breakfast around,” Linda gushed as she moved the salt and pepper shakers into the middle of the table. “He knows how to—well, how to entertain a lady.” Linda paused, looking stricken. “Not that he entertains many of them. I mean, not in that way—he usually comes in for dinner, not breakfast. I—”

“It’s okay, Linda,” Conrad said.

Katrina looked away. “I’m just passing through,” she repeated. She blinked again. “I had a problem with the muffler on my sister’s car and he’s fixing it.”

She glanced back up.

Linda nodded. “He’s good at that, too.” Then she looked down at Conrad. “He’s actually good at many things. Why, I think he helped paint the mural on the side of that barn on the far edge of town. He’s got a real talent.”

“I operated the forklift and helped paint the clouds on the top,” Conrad said dryly. “It wasn’t much.”

“Now, don’t be modest,” Linda said as she put her hands in the front pockets of her chef apron. “If either of you need anything else, you just let me know. That melon is sweet.”

“It looks delicious,” Katrina said. The plate in front of her had an egg, sunny side up, with two slices of bacon and a short stack of pancakes. The slices of melon were on the side.

“I’ll bring the syrups right out. I have maple and
blueberry,” Linda said as she turned to leave. “And I’ll bring more pancakes for the boys, too.”

“Could you make them without the eyes?” Conrad asked.

“Sure,” Linda said. “I’ll make dollar pancakes. You know, the plain round ones.”

“Thanks,” Conrad said.

Katrina blinked again.

“Don’t cry,” Conrad said softly after Linda had walked away.

“I’m not crying. I have—my face is just wet from the rain.”

She still didn’t look up at him.

“You don’t have to eat anything you don’t like,” Conrad said. “I can order something else.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this is perfect.” Katrina lifted her fork and tried to smile even though she had no appetite now.

Conrad nodded. “You’ll need your strength.”

“You think I’m going to jail, don’t you?” She sat back and looked at him.

He shook his head. “I just think it’s going to be a long day. The sheriff hasn’t come in to say he’s reached anyone at the number you gave him. He’s not likely to just say you can leave town. He might not look so tough, but Sheriff Wall is like a pit bull when he’s on the job. He won’t let go once he knows what he has to do.”

“Well, you would know him better than I do,” she said. And with that she used her fork to spear a piece of melon.

 

Conrad watched Katrina as she finished the last of her food. He looked over and saw that the boys were done, too.

“Let’s get out of here.” He put down three ten-dollar bills on the table. Linda would have a good tip. “I’ll take you down to that sign you want to see and we’ll see about getting you set up to take your picture.”

“The lighting is not good enough to take the pictures now. I’ll have to take them tomorrow if it’s not cloudy. Come on, boys,” she added as she looked over at them. “Let’s get your coats back on.”

Conrad noticed that her face was getting a little more color to it.

“You can at least see the sign, though,” he said. “And I can stop on the way out and ask Tracy if she knows any young women that fit what you need. She cuts hair so she might know of some blondes.”

“Is that the woman who’s been looking at us?” Katrina asked as she pulled Zach’s red coat over his arms. Ryan seemed to be managing his own.

Conrad wondered how she could tell who had been looking at them. He knew everyone was keeping an eye on their table.

“She likes you,” Katrina said matter-of-factly as she stood and took her jacket off the back of her chair.

“Well, I always tip her when she cuts my hair.” Conrad stood up.

Katrina looked at him skeptically and smiled
softly. “I don’t think it’s your hair that is troubling her right now.”

Conrad knew he shouldn’t, but he turned around so he could look back and see what Katrina was talking about. He swiveled back. “She’s not even looking at me.”

“Not now,” Katrina agreed as she put her jacket on. “But she was looking. I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“She doesn’t even know you. Why would she—”

Katrina gave him a look that shot right through him. Then she nodded. “She’s jealous all right.”

Conrad was speechless. “No—”

Katrina shrugged. “Suit yourself then. But I recognize that stare.”

She gathered up the boys and walked toward the door. Conrad followed behind them. He told himself it wasn’t because he liked to watch Katrina walk. Although he did wonder how she swayed the way she did.

“We’ll wait for you on the porch,” she said when she opened the door.

Leave it to Katrina to cut out when he could use some moral support. It was up to him to ask the favor of Tracy.

“Good seeing you here,” he greeted Tracy as heartily as he could. “Your hair’s looking good.”

“It’s the same cut as always.”

“I was hoping you might be able to help me out,” he said. He couldn’t stand to inch his way up on this.

“Oh?”

“My—” He stopped in a panic. He should have thought this through. “My customer,” he continued.
“She’s trying to get a business started as a photographer and she wants to take a picture of a local couple looking at the heart sign down the road. She needs a young blonde woman, pretty and expressive, to be one of the models in the shot. It’s supposed to be romantic and I thought you might know someone who—”

Tracy was silent.

Conrad forced himself not to fidget.

“Who’s the man?” Tracy finally asked.

“What—” Conrad started. “What man?”

Tracy looked at him like he was slow. “The man that’s going to be in the picture with this blonde you want me to find. Any woman’s going to want to know who the man is if she’s going to be taking some romantic picture with him.”

“That makes sense. I didn’t hear her mention the man. But I’ll go ask.”

Conrad fled the café. He wasn’t cut out to be a negotiator.

“Well, what’d she say?” Katrina asked when he burst out of the café. She was standing quietly on the other side of the porch with the boys. The air was chilly and they all had their hands in their pockets.

“She wants to know who the man is that’s going to be there with the blonde.”

“I don’t see why she needs to know that. It’s not like they need to kiss or anything,” Katrina said in exasperation. “If you watch the boys, I’ll go talk to her.”

“We’ll all go,” Conrad said as he gathered the boys around. He needed to know what Tracy said, too.

The café was warm when he opened the door to step back inside. Katrina didn’t stand still long enough to appreciate it, though. She went right over to Tracy.

“It doesn’t matter who the man is. They’ll be gazing into each other’s eyes. That’s all.”

Tracy shrugged. “It still matters if the guy has a girlfriend. She won’t want him gazing into any other girl’s eyes. It could cause problems if you have the wrong man.”

“I haven’t asked any men yet,” Katrina said. “Right or wrong.”

“Pete could do it,” Tracy offered.

Conrad heard a strangled sound behind him. Pete had just walked over.

“Me?” the ranch hand said. “In a picture?”

“A picture of romance,” Conrad said just so he could see the color leave Pete’s face.

“I imagine you’ve kissed your share of women,” Tracy said a little tartly as she shot Pete a look that Conrad couldn’t interpret. “It shouldn’t be much of a problem to just gaze into their eyes soulfully.”

“Well—I—” Pete stammered. “I have a job.”

“It won’t take long,” Katrina said. “We can forgo the makeup and—”

“Makeup!” Pete exclaimed. “I’m not wearing any makeup. If word of that got out I’d lose my job.”

“Nonsense,” Katrina said. “No one could fire you for wearing makeup. It wouldn’t be legal.”

“Getting fired would be the least of my worries,” the ranch hand said. “I wouldn’t be able to show my face
in the bunkhouse. I’d have to sleep out in the barn. I don’t know where I’d eat. Why, I’d starve to death.”

“Well, we won’t do makeup,” Katrina persisted. “So all you’d need to do would be to have your hair done.”

“I just trimmed it. It’s ready to go,” Tracy said.

Conrad noticed his old friend was looking considerably more cheerful now that she could torment the ranch hand.

“Well, who’s the woman going to be?” Pete demanded belligerently. He looked like he was going to continue with some choice words, but Katrina held up her hand.

“I don’t think we know yet,” she said. She glanced down at the boys standing beside her, looking on in wide-eyed amazement. “Remember we have children here.”

The boys looked up, seeming even more curious.

“If you’d be doing it, I’d agree,” Pete finally said with a sly look at Katrina. “I could throw in a kiss or two if you want.”

Pete gave a wicked smile and the whole café was absolutely silent.

“He’s going to kiss you?” Katrina’s oldest nephew finally asked in awe. “Like on television?”

Conrad felt a kick to his gut that he didn’t dare act on. He had no right to interfere with Katrina kissing anyone. He noticed Tracy had a sour look on her face, too. In all of the years he had known the hairstylist, Conrad had never known her to look wretched. Why, she almost looked like she was in love with Pete.

“Katrina can’t do it,” Conrad said with as much authority as he could muster. There was no point in tormenting Tracy. “I’m going to ask one of the married women.”

“For romance?” Pete asked, his jaw dropping in astonishment.

“Getting married doesn’t kill romance,” Conrad continued. He sure hoped that was true. “At least with their husbands. They still know how to kiss. You should know that, Pete.”

“Me? I’ve never kissed a married woman. Not that you have, either. What would you know about what marriage does or doesn’t do to women?”

“Hearsay,” Conrad said and then looked right at Pete. “Just come to town tomorrow morning early. Make it just after dawn. That’ll give us plenty of time before Sunday school. You haven’t been for a while and it’ll do you good to go to church, too. We’ll meet at the sign. There’ll be nothing to it.”

“Well, I don’t know—”

“I’ll fix that knocking sound in your pickup for free,” Conrad said. “That old Ford truck is going to fall apart if you don’t do something pretty soon.”

BOOK: Wife Wanted in Dry Creek
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