A Dry Creek Courtship. Janet Tronstad

said they never turn anyone away,” Elmer said. “So money should be no-o-o problem.”

      “He got that sign from another car lot that had gone out of business,” Charley said. “Conrad doesn’t want to put much money into signs before he knows if he’ll get any customers.”

      “Well, he shouldn’t put up a sign if he doesn’t mean it,” Elmer said. “That’s the worst thing he can do for business. Besides, selling something to Mrs. Hargrove would be business so I’d think he’d hop right on it. Everyone in the county will notice if she’s driving a new car. A good word from her could bring him more customers than he’ll know what to do with.”

      Charley reached over to get his empty coffee cup and then stood up. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to talk to him.” He walked over to the counter and set the cup down. “Conrad has to prove himself a salesman someday. If he can sell a car to Edith, he can sell a car to anyone.”

      The pastor looked up from his order form and nodded at Charley. “That woman knows her mind, all right. She won’t be easy to convince if she doesn’t want to be.”

      “Some women get a new car just because they like the color,” Elmer said. “Remind your nephew to talk about color with her. The blues are always popular. Tell him to say it’ll match her eyes.”

      “Edith’s eyes are green,” Charley said as he started walking to the door.

      “Hey,” Elmer called out, “we haven’t had our game yet. Where are you going?”

      “I’ll be back,” Charley said. “I just need to check up on that car.”

      Charley stood on the porch of the hardware store and looked down the road. He could see Edith’s mustard-colored car in the distance, billowing out enough smoke to show that it was still moving. He shook his head as he walked over to his pickup. It wasn’t easy to talk sense to a stubborn woman, but he had to try.

      Edith stopped her car at the point in the road near where the coulee started to dip. Autumn came fast and furious to this part of Montana. When she got out of the car, she looked in all directions and could see the brown patches of grass that had already turned for the year. Farther out, she could see the Big Sheep Mountains.

      Edith made sure her socks were pulled up as high as they could go before she took her bucket and started to the edge of the coulee. The ground sloped down gradually and she had to be careful not to slide.

      She wasn’t more than eight feet down the slope when she heard the sound of a vehicle stopping on the road above. She supposed it was one of the hands at the Elkton Ranch making sure she was all right. Everyone in the whole county knew her car so they wouldn’t be wondering who was walking down in the coulee; they’d just be stopping to make sure she was okay.

      “I’m fine,” Edith called out. She was far enough down in the coulee that she couldn’t see who it was that had parked. “Just going to pick some chokecherries.”

      “Well, that’s a fool thing to be doing.”

      Edith didn’t need to see the man to know that it was Charley up there. She hadn’t seen him for two days, she thought in annoyance, and he decided now was the time to talk to her. Her daughter hadn’t put the pins back in Edith’s bun securely and she could feel her hair starting to pull loose. Even with the hat on her head, a person could still see her sagging hair. She probably looked frightful. Plus, the hat was yellow and she always had thought it made her face look a little green.

      “You don’t need to come down,” Edith called back. The best thing would be if Charley just went away. Then she wouldn’t need to worry about how she looked. “I’m doing fine.”

      She didn’t know why she was suddenly worried about how she looked when it was only Charley. He knew she was a plain-featured woman with work lines on her face. He’d probably seen every one of her gardening hats over the years.

      Charley stood at the top of the coulee and saw Edith slowly walking down. He could kick himself. He’d completely forgotten about picking the chokecherries. His mind had been on that old car of hers. He should have remembered she’d need those berries to make her harvest-dinner jelly.

      “I’ll be right there,” Charley said as he started down the coulee. Edith was holding herself stiff and he wondered if her arthritis was acting up. “You don’t need to be climbing down no coulees.”

      “I can certainly pick a few chokecherries,” Edith said. “Just because I haven’t done it for a few years doesn’t mean I can’t.”

      Charley noticed the woman didn’t even turn around to face him. That didn’t bode well.

      “I’m sorry I forgot.” Charley kept right on going down the side of the coulee, sidestepping instead of walking straight to keep his balance. “I can get the berries now though. Just give me a few minutes.”

      Charley caught up with Edith as she reached the chokecherry bushes. They were gnarled and rooted deep in the sandy soil with nothing but thistles to keep them company. Those bushes had been there for decades and each year they were red with chokecherries until the birds from Canada started picking the berries off as they flew south.

      There were no red berries in sight.

      “They’re all gone,” Charley said. The birds had already been here. The bushes were picked clean. “I’m sorry. Maybe there’s some left over on that hill by the Morgan farm.”

      Those berries were never as plump and Charley knew that, but he saw no reason to remind Edith of that fact.

      “It’s all right,” Edith said. “I can get by without chokecherry jelly.”

      Charley noticed that she still hadn’t looked at him. “But you always make chokecherry jelly.”

      “Only because there’s no peaches around.”

      “I’ll get you some chokecherries. Don’t worry,” he vowed.

      Edith finally turned to him. The brim of her floppy garden hat kept her face in shadow, but Charley could see the stiff curve of her lips as she gave him what would pass for a smile if he didn’t know her like he did.

      Charley felt miserable.

      “What happened to your moustache?” Edith asked. “I thought you were growing a moustache.”

      Charley nodded. “I couldn’t decide if it made me look better or not so I shaved it off.”

      “You don’t need a moustache to make you look handsome,” Edith said firmly. She sounded relieved. “You’ve got a fine face.”

      “Really?” Charley smiled. “I thought maybe I could use a change.”

      “Well, sometimes change isn’t what we need at all.”

      Charley knew Edith didn’t like change. But the same old things weren’t always good, either. “If you ask me, we absolutely need to change sometimes. Like with…” Charley lost his nerve. He couldn’t say anything about the changes he’d like to make between the two of them. “Cars. There comes a time when a person needs a new car.”

      Edith nodded. “If you want a new car, you should get one.”

      “I didn’t mean me. I meant you. Besides, what’s wrong with my pickup? It can still pull a horse trailer if I need to move an animal. And I’ve just got the driver seat broken in the way I like it.”

      “Then you know how attached a person gets to their car. I don’t know if I’d be able to drive a different car.”

      Charley shifted his feet. “The new cars steer easier than that old Ford you have. You’d like a new one if you’d give it a chance and take it out for a test drive.”

      “My old car does fine for me.”

      Charley snorted. “Just because Harold bought you that car—”

      “He