Wife Wanted in Dry Creek. Janet Tronstad

is the calendar lady,” Conrad said.

      “Really? Then that means—”

      “It means nothing. I was joking when I said what I did. There’s no miracle answer to prayer going on here.”

      “But—”

      Conrad ignored his uncle. “The fact is, I’ve been thinking I should ask Tracy at the Quick Clip in Miles City out to dinner.”

      “Really? Linda at the diner said you two might make a couple.”

      Conrad nodded. He was glad to see someone else had some sense. “We’d be comfortable together.”

      “Comfortable?” Uncle Charley exclaimed with a frown.

      Katrina turned around and looked at them in puzzlement.

      “Nothing’s wrong,” Conrad said to her and she went back to her window Then he turned to his uncle and said in a low voice, “Yes. Safe and comfortable.”

      They were both silent for a minute.

      “It’s my fault you’re willing to settle for that,” Uncle Charley said, his voice upset. “I should have paid more attention to you when your mother died. I didn’t know your father was so wrapped up in his grief he wasn’t even home most of the time.”

      “We got by.”

      “Yes, but—”

      “I do okay,” Conrad said. He could hardly even talk about those days after his mother died. Some things were just better left unsaid. There was no undoing what happened anyway.

      The older man nodded and started to walk away.

      Conrad didn’t mean to upset his uncle. The man was only trying to help him out.

      Just then it struck him. “Why, you don’t even know any young blondes to use in the picture of that sign. How are you going to find a model?”

      His uncle winked at him. “I figure that’s your department.”

      “My—” Conrad was speechless. How was he supposed to find a pretty blonde willing to pose by an old stop sign?

      No one said anything for a moment.

      “It could be she’s innocent,” his uncle finally added with a nod toward the window. “Just like she says. I’d hate to think we treated her unfairly in Dry Creek if she is. God wants us to do better than that.”

      Conrad didn’t have a chance to answer because just then Katrina stepped back from the window. She was beaming.

      “I think I saw it,” she said.

      Conrad sighed. His uncle was right. He needed to see that she was given the benefit of the doubt. If for no other reason than that she was still his customer. He’d built his business on doing everything he could for his customers. Usually, that didn’t include standing beside them as they were arrested, of course, but he would do what he could. Besides, seeing her with her face lit up touched him somehow. No wonder he’d been willing to put a two-hundred-dollar muffler on her car and not charge her for it. The woman was a wonder. Well, either that or a very good actress. He wished he knew which it was.

      Chapter Three

      Katrina turned around and looked through the window into the garage. Fifteen more minutes had passed and the sheriff was still talking to the boys. She hadn’t noticed until now, but someone had turned on a radio and a big band tune was playing softly. She saw the radio sitting on a green file cabinet behind the desk. She hadn’t heard the soft static of a radio in years. It must have been Conrad’s uncle who thought of the music since he was standing over there looking pleased with himself.

      She looked up at the older man’s lined face. “Thanks. Dance music always cheers me up.”

      She tapped her hands against her leg in time to the music just to show him she was feeling better.

      The old man’s face lit up. “I had a hunch you might be a dancer. Conrad dances, too, you know.”

      Katrina heard a garbled sound over by the door. Conrad had his hands in his pockets and a look of panic on his face. She half expected him to open the door and rush outside to check the gas pumps, but he didn’t.

      “In junior high,” he muttered to her instead and then gave a dark look to his uncle. “I don’t dance now.”

      “It’s like riding a bicycle,” the old man said as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music. “It’ll come back to you.”

      “I fell off my bicycle. Remember?”

      “Well, at first, but you got the hang of it,” his uncle said and then paused. “Later.”

      Katrina wondered if dance moves did come back. “I took some ballet in junior high.”

      Conrad shot her a look of pure terror. “I could never do ballet.”

      “Nonsense,” his uncle said. “You got back on that bike until you could ride it. And you suited up as a clown at the last rodeo. That takes more nerve than ballet.”

      “I only did it because the real clown didn’t show and the riders needed someone to be in the ring with them in case they needed help.”

      “So you’d risk your life to help an old cowboy,” his uncle said. “But when it comes to bringing a little pleasure into a beautiful woman’s heart, you fold.”

      “Well, I suppose I could dance if someone’s life was on the line,” Conrad conceded.

      “You never know what you can do until you have to,” Katrina agreed. She knew the two men were trying to keep her mind off her troubles and she appreciated it.

      “I ran into a burning building once,” Conrad offered. “Never thought I’d be able to do that. It was more of a shed than anything, but—”

      His face had more color now that they’d stopped talking about dancing.

      “That was a fool thing to do,” his uncle scolded. “That old cat never did appreciate it. She scratched you up good. You could have gotten an infection.”

      “Well, she’d gotten tangled up in some string and couldn’t get out. I couldn’t just let her die, now could I?”

      “No, I suppose not,” his uncle agreed. “I’ve done reckless things, too. I can remember when I went skinny-dipping at the church picnic when we all used to meet at the Big Dry Creek. I was a young daredevil of seven and I thought I was far enough away. Almost didn’t get my clothes on before some ladies came down to see how high the water was in the creek. And there I stood dripping wet in my shirt and pants. Looked like a fool.”

      No one said anything for a bit.

      “I never thought I’d have the courage to face getting arrested,” Katrina finally added to the list. “But here I am.”

      She looked around. Everything in the office was neatly squared off, the stack of invoices on the desktop. The white binders named with different motor companies. Even the way the file cabinets were arranged. The place was pleasantly warm, too, and she had one friend here. Conrad’s uncle seemed to believe she was innocent.

      “That sheriff won’t arrest you,” the older man muttered. “He has to stand for reelection in this town. I guess he could hold you for a few days, though.”

      “It’s okay,” she said. “He’s only doing his job,”

      Then the door from the garage opened and the sheriff came into the office. “I’m sorry. That took longer than I thought it would.”

      He didn’t close the door to the garage area.

      “Are the boys okay?” she asked as she stepped over to try and see them. The lights were off in the garage and only the subdued sunlight that filtered through the windows made