He erased them because he already knew that to replace the windows on the first floor of the feed and grain, including the picture window at the front, it would cost around one hundred and fifty dollars per square foot of glass. Add in replacing the upstairs windows, and the cost shot up into thousands, many thousands, of dollars.
The project was important because it would keep them both from freezing next winter, and was doable because there was just enough money from Aunt Oralee’s estate to provide a hefty down payment. Yellowstone Valley Credit Union would provide a loan for the rest, hopefully.
But Morgan had another idea. Something more important than windows.
He turned on the scanner and began to feed papers into it—much easier to do without a dog in his lap—saving each scan to the appropriate folder in the cloud and on his new external hard drive. The repetitive actions gave him time to think. About who to call to help him out. About how to keep Jack from finding out, because Jack was very good at reading every one of Morgan’s tells.
When he heard Jack clomping up the stairs to make coffee, Morgan hastily called Gus Odell.
“‘Lo?” Gus asked.
“Hey, Gus,” Morgan said, gripping the phone tight because asking for help still felt new to him. “It’s Morgan. I need a favor and don’t know where to start. Can you help me?”
“Start at the beginning, son,” Gus said. “Did you get the plans I sent for the Grange?”
“Sure did, Gus,” Morgan said. “I’m hoping for a late-summer build. But here’s the thing.” He lowered his voice, even cupped his hand over his mouth as he described what he wanted to purchase. How fast he wanted it.
“Instead of new windows?” Gus asked. “Surely you want to put those in sooner rather than later.”
Gus knew how many windows were currently covered over with plywood, and Morgan could just about see his eyebrows rising.
“This is more important,” Morgan said. “We’ll manage for the rest of the winter. I can reach out to the credit union about a full-out loan, instead of a partial one. Maybe I’ll ask them to bundle a loan for the windows with a loan for wood to build the Grange. In the fall.”
“I’ll talk to Joe at the credit union,” Gus said. “We go way back.”
Morgan took a long, slow breath. This was another layer of the connection between people in Hysham and the community surrounding it. One hand washed the other. Something Jack had known from just about the second he’d arrived in town. And now Morgan was a part of that.
“Thank you, Gus,” Morgan said. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Tarp,” Gus said. “I need some. One of my ranch hands doesn’t know how to tie good sturdy knots and now, courtesy of that and the high winds we got a few days back, seven hundred and twenty square feet of durable canvas tarp has made its way to North Dakota.”
“I’ll order it for you,” Morgan said, scribbling down the information on the nearest scrap of paper, which, probably, washow Aunt Oralee had done it. Which had, very definitely, led to the current mess Morgan was still cleaning up.
“Any special color?” Gus asked, drawing Morgan back to the current project. The most important one.
“Shiny,” Morgan said. “Bright. Red or green or blue. Looking like new, that’s the key thing. I know the slightly older ones have more—I don’t know—heft to them. One of those. That’s what I’m thinking.”
“You want all the trimmings?” Gus asked.
“Ones that make sense in Montana,” Morgan said. “You’d know more about that than I would.” He paused. “I’d rather not wait till Christmas. He needs it now.”
“Let me find one for you,” Gus said, and Morgan thought he could hear the distinct pleasure in Gus’ voice that he’d been asked. “Can you pay cash?”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “Around twenty?” Twenty thousand, he meant. It was a lot of money, but it wasonlymoney.
“This instead of windows.”
“Yes,” Morgan said. “It’s forJack. That was the most important thing.
“Consider it done,” Gus said. “Give me a day or so and I’ll call you back.”
They ended the call, and Morgan returned to scanning, and pretty soon, Jack appeared in the doorway, grabbing each side of the doorjamb and leaning in. His smile was bright and his eyes glittered with pleasure, and Morgan left his task, unfolded himself from the chair, and went up to Jack to kiss him.
“We’re just about out of milk,” Jack said, kissing him back. “And the next storm is due in two days, so I’m going to need that list to go to the store with.”
“It’s on the desk,” Morgan said, melting as Jack nuzzled his neck and pulled their bodies closer together. Jack could go through any pile he wanted, rifle through any drawer. Morganhad written nothing down, so there’d be nothing for Jack to find. No clues. No information.
But Jack pulled back, forehead furrowed, because he was sharp and those bright eyes of his missed nothing.
