Page 2 of Seducing the Sheriff
“Exactly. Dad wanted to stay in Cheyenne forever, you couldn’t wait to leave, and I wanted to explore. But hey, I’m in one place now, right?”
“That’s right, hon. And I won’t deny that I’m happy you finally came to your senses.”
Yeah. One hundred percent, a nightmare if I lived with her. Perhaps I should buy a giant tent now, just in case.
“Hey, listen, I’ve got to run. I want to get into town and do some grocery shopping before it gets too late.”
All I had left from my short road trip was a bit of cheese, an apple, and a couple of sodas in the mini cooler. I was exhausted from driving straight through, and jonesing for a real meal. I’d been fast-fooding it for the past week while packing and moving.
“Of course, hon. You must be so tired. I’ll let you go. But send pics of all the progress.”
“I will, Bonnie. You take care and tell Frank I said hi.”
After ending the call, I glanced around at the boxes I’d brought with me in my truck. I’d pick up the other things I’d shipped at the post office tomorrow, but I had everything I needed for the night. Once I ate and busted out the new air mattress I’d purchased before leaving Cheyenne for the last time, I’d be ready to crash.
I could’ve shipped some of my dad’s furniture, so I didn’t have to start from scratch. But I was ready to move forward, to set up my new life with my own things. The last few months of being back in my hometown, wrapping up my dad’s estate, and looking for a place to buy were all behind me now.
It was time to surge ahead into my future.
I scratched my chin, the stubble I hadn’t bothered to shave off this morning beginning to irritate me. Even though it was still spring, the temperatures were already making the afternoons a bit on the steamy side. That was part of the reason I hadn’t wanted to arrive in Charming any later than March. I only had a few months before I’d be battling scorching days.
“Can I help you with anything?”
A woman who was probably somewhere in her fifties smiled up at me with a toothy grin. She was well put-together, with ruby lips, a perfect French manicure, and piles of yellow curls on her head. I was more accustomed to grizzled, beefy guys in stained coveralls when I shopped in small-town hardware stores. In larger cities, where I frequented big box stores, I found more diversity. Everyone from teens to retirees to family men and women could potentially be helping me. But a woman in heels who looked as though she’d won more than a couple of beauty pageants in her youth was a first.
“Maybe.” I went from scratching to rubbing my chin. “I’m looking for a top-notch wood sealant for decking. These both sound good, but I’ve never tried them before. Which one would you recommend?”
“Hmm…” She planted her hands on her hips. “They’re both quite good. If something doesn’t do the job, the hubby and I don’t order it.” She tapped one of the metal buckets. “But this is what I use. It’s a few dollars more, but worth it if your wood is getting baked in the sun.”
I was impressed. She definitely knew her stuff.
“Great. Also, do you carry a UV-resistant epoxy grout? The original structure is made of river rock, and some of the sections need to be replaced. It’s only about four hundred square feet. It used to be a line shack. The rest of the additions were built off that.”
Her jaw dropped and she gasped. “You bought the old Jenkins’ ranch?” She gave my arm a playful smack. “We’ve all been wondering who got the place.”
“That would be me.” I stuck out my hand. “Greg Harding. I arrived a few days ago.”
“Maddie Lopez.” She accepted my hand with an even wider grin than before.
“Nice to meet you, Maddie.” I tilted my head. “But the property I purchased isn’t a working ranch, and the name of the person selling it wasn’t Jenkins. Not that I met him, but that wasn’t the name on the title.”
She laughed lightly. “Sorry, that’s how we refer to it. Gilbert Jenkins was one of the first white settlers here in what eventually became Charming after the Mexican-American War.”
“Oh really? That’s pretty interesting.” I made a mental note to do a historical deep dive.
“Well, well. That’s wonderful. So you’re not tearing it down?” She nudged me with her elbow. “We’ve all been taking bets on what’s gonna happen with the place, so don’t be surprised if you get grilled like a cheese sandwich by everyone you meet.”
I chuckled. “That’s okay. I’m accustomed to it. I used to travel around the Southwest and flip houses, but never stayed anywhere for very long.”
Her face fell. “Oh, so you’re only fixing it up? You’re not staying?”
“No, I’m definitely staying this time.” I smiled. “I’ve decided to put down roots here in Charming, and I fell in love with that property.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Have you been out in the sun too long, honey? Not that it isn’t a great piece of land in a great location, but…” She eyed me up and down. “How does your wife feel about living in such a unique fixer-upper?”
Here we go. “I’m not married. Came here on my own.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “Interesting. I’m sure a handsome man like you will have no problem finding someone to keep you company.”
