I pulled my wallet out of my purse. “Did feed go up again? I thought this grain was only twenty-nine a bag last month.”
“Yeah, fuel prices. Sorry,” the girl replied with a shrug. “Manager said it will go up again before spring.”
“Good thing I’m only feeding one horse,” I said with a chuckle. “I’d go broke if I had a whole ranch full!”
The girl behind the counter faked a smile, but I could tell she wasn’t all that interested in my joke. She probably just wanted to get her shift over with. I sobered and pushed my card into the chip reader. People didn’t seem as friendly as they used to. Had the town changed that much? Or was it me?
I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Kelli said. I’d lost sleep over it. I knew she meant it kindly, but it really bothered me. Did people actually see me the way she claimed they did? The “best” at everything, “graceful” and “smart” and… and bland as old dried toast? Intimidating to get close to and no fun once you did? I wouldn’t even want to be around someone like that. It wasn’t a nice feeling to find out thatIwas that person.
“Have a nice day,” the girl said as she ripped off my receipt. Her smile was plastic, and her eyes cut away from mine as soon as possible without being rude. I sighed as I stuffed the receipt in my purse. Maybe she was just shy. That was probably it. But she wasn’t the only one.
I hefted the grain bag over my shoulder and headed outside, Dakota trotting at my heels. He loved going to the feed store, but this time no one had offered him a treat, and he was nudging my pant leg as if to remind me that he was supposed to get a cookie at the register. “Sorry, buddy,” I told him. “Maybe next time.”
As we went through the door, I passed a short, older lady who gawked at me through her thick glasses like I was some kind of weirdo for not using the cart. I hadn’t even thought about it. This was how I always did it, so I didn’t have to return the cart. Apparently, I’d accidentally found another way not to blend in. I pulled my sunglasses down with my free hand and avoided looking at anyone.
I threw the feed in the trunk, then opened the door for Dakota. He jumped in, then turned and waited for me. As he did, I caught a glimpse of his old collar. It was getting pretty ragged, and I’d been meaning to replace it. And it wasn’t like I had anywhere to be… or anyone waiting for me. I frowned.
“You know what, buddy? Let’s go back in and find you another collar while I’m thinking about it. Maybe you’ll even get a treat this time through.”
We went back in, and I took my time, threading my way through the store. It was nice to be away from work and out of the house, where real people lurked from time to time. I didn’t miss being in Oklahoma, where the busyness and rush of my job and the people I kept up with had threatened to overwhelm me. But plunging back into small-town life, with a job that didn’t put me in touch with many people, was a lot to get used to again. Once in a while, it was nice to see some fresh faces.
“Jess?”
I turned around. It was Dusty Walker, just leaving the horse grooming aisle carrying a basket full of bottles. I smiled. “Hey, Dusty.”
He smiled back and shifted the basket to his other hand. “Hey. Uh... hi.” He drew a breath and looked like he was going to say something else, but then gave up and offered another tight smile as Dakota sniffed his hand.
Dusty bent down to stroke my dog’s ears. “Hey, buddy. What’s his name?”
“Dakota.”
Dusty glanced up at me, then back to my dog as he rubbed the scruff of his neck and chest. “Hi, Dakota. You’re a lovely fellow, aren’t you?”
Dakota whimpered and licked Dusty’s hand, and Dusty found the magic scratching place under his chin. That was it for Dakota. His whole body broke into Aussie “talk” and happy squirms. I tilted my head and watched them, acting like the best of buds when they’d just met. Dakota didn’t take to just anyone, but he was a sucker for good scratches once he let them get started. They could go on like this all day.
“So, uh…” I interrupted.
Dusty affectionately tussled Dakota’s head one last time, then straightened. “Sorry. Dogs, you know. They know a dog person.”
“Yeah.” I gestured to his shopping basket. “Getting some horses ready to show?”
“Hmm?” He squinted like he didn’t understand, then remembered the stuff in his hand. “Oh, this? No, just picking some stuff up for Luke. He just bought a gray horse, so now he’s got this idea about purple shampoo and… well, you know Luke. Can’t tell him anything.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know. He asked me to watch the game with him on Wednesday night, but then he said he was going to show up at the tavern wearing blue and orange face paint. He didn’t understand why I wouldn’t love that idea.”
Something changed in Dusty’s expression, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He looked… almost angry. At least sad. What could I have said? His eyes dropped, and he wouldn’t look back up again, which was a shame because of all the Walkers, I always thought Dusty had the most striking blue eyes. And that was saying something.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, shifting the basket from one hand to the other. “Luke does get some pretty horrible ideas sometimes. I’d better go.”
That was abrupt. I wouldn’t have minded talking to him for a few minutes, but I guess not. “Well, see you around? Come on, Dakota.”
He nodded and started to wave goodbye, then stiffened. “Wait, Jess?”
I stopped. “Yeah?”
His mouth moved, but no words were coming out. I narrowed my eyes. “Come again?”
Dusty blinked. “I was… just wondering how things are going with Kelli’s horse. At your house.”