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“What do you think?”

Oscar’s voice startled me. I turned as he lifted a booted foot up onto one of the display boxes and flourished his hand.

I was about to say they looked real good, but then my gaze slid to the shopkeeper, who watched us with a smile.

“What’re you asking me for?”

Oscar caught on. “True. You don’t know a thing about style.”

I laughed because he was right.

“Get ’em if you like ’em. I reckon they’ll do. And you don’t need my permission,” I huffed.

“Nope, I surely don’t,” Oscar said, stomping around and checking them out, making sure they were gonna be all right. “The fit’s good.”

I bit my tongue for about the fourth time since we’d come in here. Next time we tried this, I’d have Oscar go into the store on his own. We’d avoid any of this nonsense.

He paid for his new boots, and the shopkeeper asked if Oscar wanted him to dispose of the old ones. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he must have resisted asking me. He glanced at me while the clerk wasn’t looking and I shook my head.

“No, thank you. I’ll keep ’em for chores.”

“Of course. I’ll give you a bit of moleskin in case you get blisters from the new ones. Although these boots are so fine and fit you so well, they may not need much breaking in.”

“Thank you.” Oscar turned to me. “You ready, Jimmy?”

I lifted the roll of cord off its hook and held it out for the shop keeper to see. “How much you want for this?”

Oscar looked at the cord in my hand, then met my gaze. Something in his eyes told me he knew what I was gonna use it for. His nostrils flared and he lifted his chin, but I reckon the shopkeeper didn’t notice.

“That’s five yards of fine-tooled leather cord. I can’t let that go for less than a dollar fifty.”

I gazed at the cord in my hand, wondering if I should spend that much. Then I looked at Oscar and said. “I’ll take it.”

“Wonderful. It’s very strong. Perfect for wrapping around a post or a fence for support.”

“Yeah, that’s what I need it for,” I lied.

“It’ll shrink when it gets wet, so it’ll hold real tight.”

I nodded, licking my lips and trying not to think about my intentions as I gave my money o’er.

“Do you need a bag?”

“No, sir. I’ll just put it in my pocket. Thank you.” I grabbed Oscar’s old boots from the bench and tucked them under my arm before I wondered if it might look strange. We left the store and started walking down the street, Oscar’s new boots making a fine sound on the wooden sidewalk.

He glanced at me. I could feel how hot my cheeks were. There weren’t many people about.

“What’d you buy that cord for, Jimmy?” Oscar asked, with narrowed eyes.

“I reckon you know,” I whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

When I met his gaze, his eyes burned fire, and I wished we could go straight home. But we had a substantial grocery order to fill.

“Never mind,” I said. “I reckon you’ll find out, soon enough.”

Oscar huffed out a breath. “It won’t be, though,” he muttered. “Jesus.” And scuffed the toe of his boot on the planks.

“Don’t ruin your new boots, now. I may not be stylish, but I reckon they’ll stay nicer if you don’t purposely wreck ’em.”