Whisper In The Wind

She drove around the town square and turned onto Main Street and parked in front of Mr. Sinclair's feed store. With a spring to her step, she entered the store. "Howdy, Caitlin. Did you have fun at our bash?"

"Sure did. Thanks for inviting me."

"Anytime. The missus and I are both glad to hear that you're sticking around. She loves your idea of a ranch, too. If you need anything, holler."

Caitlin smiled at his old-fashioned ways. His father had opened this store over sixty years ago and taught Mr. Sinclair the business. Nothing had changed. The floors remained planked and the sign out front was the original. This was life in Valley View. "Thanks. I have tons of work to do, but it will be worth it."

They talked awhile longer as Mr. Sinclair swept the floor. He told her a story about when he was a little boy and Marshall and his daddy were talking business. "I ran around this store with my boots clomping against the hardwood floor. I was a Pony Express rider with a broom for my pony. My daddy got a little tired of the noise, but your grandfather turned around and said, 'Whoa there partner. I'm expecting a very important letter. Would you happen to have it?'" Mr. Sinclair chuckled. "Never in all my life did anyone treat a child with such importance. Remember in those days, children were to be seen, not heard. Age didn't matter to your grandfather. He liked knowing what was inside a person's mind and heart." He paused for a moment, using the broom for support. "I will never forget him."

The story left Caitlin with mixed emotions. She loved hearing stories about her grandfather, but she kept expecting him to pipe up and make comments. "Now that's not how I remember it," he would say. Or he would chime in with another story. 'Does it ever get easier?" she wondered.

As she exited the store, she bumped into Scott. "Hey. How are you?" she asked, somewhat pensive after last night.

"Fine," he said, looking away. "Is the fence done?"

"Yes."

"Oh," he said, disappointment ringing through his voice. A glance into his eyes showed hurt. That new kid in town who wanted to belong, but no one would let him in. She offered a smile and he smiled back. "I gotta go. See you around," he said his left hand in his front jean pocket.