Wife Wanted in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

his office. She was surprised her nephews were warm enough with just their coats on to keep sleeping, but she’d checked on them and they were.

      “The heat will kick on in a minute,” Conrad said, stopping a few feet away from her. “I don’t usually have customers back here so I don’t keep it heated all the time. But I turned it up before I came through the door.”

      “Well, thanks.” She drew her jacket closer.

      It must be almost nine o’clock now and she’d left Leanne’s place around six this morning. They both had been half-asleep then so she forgot to give Leanne the number for her cell phone. Not that she would have expected to hear from her sister anyway. Walker hadn’t come home until early morning and Leanne said he would sleep late. Katrina had been careful not to comment on Walker’s absence. It didn’t matter how suspicious it looked to her, Leanne needed to be the one to decide if her husband might be unfaithful.

      “There’s a bulletin board over there that has some jobs listed on it.” Conrad pointed to the far wall. “It’s mostly cleaning houses, but you might find something to do until you get a more regular job.”

      Just then a beam of morning light made its way through the frost on the window and settled on Conrad’s head, gradually showing up the sprinkling of golden strands in his brown hair. Now that was the kind of diffused light she’d wanted for her photographs. She didn’t know why she wasn’t rushing to get her camera. The longer she looked at Conrad the more of a glow he had. And his green eyes were filled with the mossy colors found in a backwoods pond. Even his skin was taking on a rosier hue. The faint roughness of whiskers on his cheeks and the set of his jaw made him look rugged and strong.

      It was unusual that sunlight would make that much difference. He was almost handsome.

      “You didn’t get into your wife’s shampoo, did you?” Katrina asked before she thought about it. “Your hair sparkles.”

      “There’s no wife. I got some grease on my head working under that tractor.” He nodded to the piece of equipment standing in his garage. “My aunt Edith made up something with lemon juice and other things to get it out. I smelled like fruit pie for days.”

      So, he was single. “Well, it works. Your hair is great.”

      Then she remembered she shouldn’t be asking any man if he was single. Not until she knew whether or not her cancer was coming back. She didn’t need a repeat of the scene with her boyfriend when he decided being with someone who was sick was not sufficiently entertaining to keep him by her side.

      Conrad’s face eased up a fraction. “Thanks. If you need anything, just let me know.”

      He seemed to mean it which surprised her enough that she considered telling him all her troubles just to see if he was like her ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t easy to tell someone, though.

      She hadn’t even told Leanne about the cancer. At first, she hadn’t wanted to worry her and then, when the surgery was all over, she didn’t know how to say the words. Maybe later, when Leanne wasn’t so worried about her marriage, she’d tell her then. If she waited a few months, she’d know more anyway. By then she hoped to be closer to her sister, too.

      “Is it getting warmer in here?” Conrad asked.

      She nodded.

      He was looking at her again with concern, only this time he didn’t seem to be worried that she was going to fall apart. “My uncle is coming over.”

      “That’s nice.”

      “Well,” he said without much enthusiasm. “He won’t stay long.”

      They were both silent for a minute.

      “He’ll probably ask if you ever had your picture taken for a calendar.”

      Katrina swallowed. “Oh. So you did notice?”

      The director for the ad had kept pressing her to feel the despair of that woman caught in a never-ending drought. Finally, Katrina had let her emotions go.

      Conrad nodded.

      “Well, it was a mistake.” When Katrina saw the final picture, she was appalled. The camera had caught her emotions too well. “I never thought about all those people looking at me. All month long. It’s strange.”

      “I can understand that,” he said.

      He stood and looked over her shoulder at the tractor.

      “I didn’t mean I don’t like people to look at me in person.” She wondered how neurotic he thought she was.

      “Oh.” He looked back at her. This time he smiled. “Good.”

      He shuffled his feet. “If you need anything, let me know.”

      “I could use some juice,” Katrina said. Every time she saw that calendar she got thirsty. “For the boys when they wake up. They’ve been sleeping a long time. Is there a place I can get some?”

      “There’s a vending machine in the back.” He motioned to the far corner of the garage. “It has some boxes of apple juice. If you need some quarters, let me know.”

      She looked and saw the bright blue machine with the red stripes along the rear wall of his shop.

      “I’ve got plenty of change in my purse,” Katrina said. She’d left her purse in the car and when she turned in that direction she saw a small head in the window.

      “Looks like they’re waking up,” Conrad said as he followed her gaze and waved at Ryan. “Do they sleep in the car like this often?”

      “I don’t know. I haven’t taken them anywhere before.”

      His face went white. “But they’re yours, right?”

      She shook her head. “They’re used to the car, though. They probably sleep in it all the time so they’re fine.”

      He was silent. Maybe even stunned. He certainly didn’t have that friendly expression on his face anymore.

      Just then she heard the side door open to the garage. She looked up and a gray-haired man stepped inside holding a coffee cup. Short and a little stout, he had a red shirt on his back and his hair was puffed up around him like he’d been in a windstorm. Even his cheeks were rosy.

      “Maybe you should go back and get another cup,” Conrad said to the old man as he stood in the doorway with the cup held out. “Tell Elmer he might be right about everything. That’s ev-ery-thing.”

      Conrad’s voice was funny. Each word was spoken clearly before the other word came out of his mouth. Maybe his uncle had trouble hearing.

      “Oh,” the old man said as he looked into the garage like he was trying to find something.

      Through the open door, Katrina could see that the sky was darker than when she’d seen it last. It was probably going to rain or snow before long. There were no more beams of sunlight sneaking through.

      “Let me just give the coffee to your friend here. No point in taking it back,” the older man said as he stepped into the garage and looked straight at Katrina. “Hello. I’m Charley Nelson.”

      She moved closer to save him some steps. It was brave of him to meet new people when he obviously had challenges.

      “Let—me—help—you,” she said carefully and a bit louder than Conrad. Then she reached out to take the cup. “Thank you for bringing me some coffee. I’m Katrina Britton.”

      The older man seemed startled, but he gave her the cup. Then he stood there grinning.

      Conrad spoke up then. “It seems the boys aren’t hers. I’m guessing the car might not be, either.”

      She turned and saw he looked upset.

      “Well, not everyone has children,” she protested. She didn’t know what business that was of Conrad’s. And who cared