Designs on the Cowboy

After picking up his cup and taking another drink of coffee, he pulled out the card she’d put in his pocket and looked at it.

Glory Be Antiques and Decorating.

* * *

GLORY STOOD AT the window of the shop, looking out at the town she’d left behind almost fifteen years before. Things had changed more than she’d expected them to, but from what she could tell since returning to town two weeks ago, it was still the Desperation she remembered.

It wasn’t only the town that she was thinking about, but her encounter with Dylan Walker four days earlier. Never, never had she ever used feminine tricks to lure anyone—especially a man—into doing something she wanted. But it couldn’t be helped. She’d promised his sister, who had warned her that he wouldn’t be receptive, that she would find a way to get Dylan to agree to let her restore and redecorate the house where Erin and her two brothers had grown up. Erin had explained that it needed some updating, but she didn’t trust Dylan to do it, much less do it right.

She hadn’t heard anything from Dylan since then, and she was beginning to worry. Erin was counting on her—and had paid her a hefty retainer she desperately needed. Even so, she didn’t feel right about barging into the house and taking over without his approval. And she sure hadn’t gotten that.

The sound of footsteps coming down the old wooden stairs that led to the upper floor of the building dragged her back to the present. Pushing her apprehension about the job aside, she hoped she didn’t appear worried.

“Did I hear the door?”

Putting a smile on her face, Glory turned around. “It was me, Gram. I stepped out for a little fresh air.” She hated having to tell a lie, but it couldn’t be helped. She didn’t want Gram to worry. “Did you find what you were looking for up there?”

Louise Gardner, wearing a pair of denim pants and an old shirt, appeared from behind a dusty curtain hiding the short hallway that led to the stairs. “No, but I found a lot of other things.”

“Is that good or bad?”

Her grandmother smiled and touched her light-colored graying hair. “Oh, I suspect it’s good. I’d forgotten your grandfather took to storing so much up there. Now that you’ve decided to open up an antiques shop along with your decorating, you won’t have to go looking for nearly as much to fill it with.”

“That is good news. If I don’t have to go out hunting for items to resell, it’ll save me time and money. So where do we start?”

“It’s up to you,” Louise said with a shrug. “We could go through what’s upstairs and weed out what’s good and what would be better thrown away.”

Glory moved to stand by the wood-burning stove that had once been in her grandfather’s workshop. Smiling at her grandmother, she said, “Maybe later.”

Louise moved to stand beside her. “This old thing brings back such memories.”

A stab of remorse cut through Glory for having once suggested they sell it, and she placed her hand on the old stove. “I don’t think we should put a price tag on it after all. Maybe we can make it a focal point of the shop. Give the place an old general store feel, with a fire glowing in it in the winter and chairs nearby for customers to stop in to chat and put their feet up.”

Her grandmother patted her shoulder. “And I’ll bet you think a barrel of pickles would top it off perfectly.”

“Or not,” Glory said, laughing at the silliness.

Pulling up a chair that needed to be stripped of old paint and stained, Louise settled on it and looked up at Glory with a light of expectation in her eyes. “It’s all going to come together, just you watch. You have what it takes to make a go of it. You always have.”

Glory felt a warm glow at her grandmother’s praise, and leaned down to put her arms around her shoulders. “Thank you, Gram.”

“I can hardly wait to see who your first client will be.”

“Our first client,” Glory corrected. But she wasn’t ready to mention that she already had a job lined up. Not until she was in the house and doing the work, just to be on the safe side. After all, if it hadn’t been for her grandmother’s building that had stood empty for several years, they wouldn’t even be talking about clients.

They both turned when the tiny bell above the door announced a visitor. “Why, hello,” Louise greeted, while giving Glory a questioning glance.

But Glory was too surprised to say anything.

“Afternoon, Miz Gardner,” the visitor said, nodding briefly at Glory’s grandmother as he touched the brim of his black cowboy hat.

“Why, Dylan Walker, I haven’t see you around for a—”

“Yes, what a surprise,” Glory said, effectively cutting off the chitchat she suspected her grandmother would launch into without any encouragement. After that would come the invitation to Sunday dinner, and she certainly didn’t want to go there. “Why don’t we step into the office?”

But Louise didn’t seem to hear. “Dylan, are you thinking of letting Glory work her magic on that wonderful old house of yours?”

Glory quickly spoke before he had a chance to answer her grandmother. “If you’ll just come with me, Dylan...”

He looked from one woman to the other, his attention finally settling on Glory. “I just have a couple of questions.”

“I really think we’ll be more comfortable in my office,” she tried again. After a brief hesitation, he followed her. “You’ll have to excuse everything. We haven’t had a chance to do much with the building. In fact, we aren’t officially open yet.”

He removed his hat, revealing his dark hair, and continued to stand. “Nice desk.”

It took a moment for her to realize what he’d said. “It was my grandfather’s.”

“I thought so.” He turned and pointed to the door. “That old wood burner out there, too?”

“Why, yes.” She knew she shouldn’t be surprised that he remembered one or the other. Her grandfather’s leather shop had been famous for miles in every direction. The workshop, where he’d done the leather work, still stood behind the building. It had been her favorite place to visit when she could escape from the pressures at home, but Gramps had been gone for many years, and she’d barely been able to step inside his workshop since he’d died.

“It’s nice of you to remember, Dylan. He had to give up the leather shop when the palsy got too bad to work.”

Dylan placed his hat on the desk. “Erin’s first saddle was one he’d made. I still remember how perfect the tooling was on it.”

“Gram still has many of the things he made.” And so had she, but she’d sold the last of them—her saddle—to Dylan’s sister to get the money needed to pay the back taxes on the building so her grandmother wouldn’t lose it.

Pushing the old memories deeper into her mind, she took a seat behind the desk and folded her hands on top of it. “What can I do for you, Dylan?”

“Like I said, I have a couple of questions.”

Determined to be pleasant, she smiled and dipped her head in a nod. “Of course.”

He continued to look at her, long and hard, making her skin prickle. “What experience do you have to complete this job my sister hired you for?”

It was her turn to stare. “I have a degree in art, if that’s what you mean.”

It was clear by his frown that he hadn’t expected that kind of answer, but it didn’t stop him. “Did my sister give you any instructions as to what to do if I refused to let you do any work on my house?”

Now she was in familiar territory. “As a matter of fact, she did warn me that you might not be receptive to having me there. As far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t matter if you’re there or not or whether you even want me there. I’ve been hired to do a job, and I intend to do it.”

He was silent for a moment, as if thinking about what she’d said. “When do you plan to start?”

Now they were getting somewhere. “As soon as possible.” His frown deepened, but she continued. “There won’t be any real work at first. I’ll need to take a look at the house and all the rooms, and take measurements of them. If you have specific ideas—”

“I don’t. This wasn’t my idea.”

There was nothing she could say that would change things, so she didn’t reply.