I set Grace’s bags down beside the queen bed. “ is is your room,” I said, gesturing with my hand.

Grace walked in behind me carrying a tote and her purse. She looked around the room, her face expressionless as she studied every corner and square foot. I couldn’t tell if she was disappointed or not. I thought about redecorating when I started renting rooms out on Airbnb, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. My mother had put it together, a mix of things she made and things she found. It was last decorated in the seventies but was back on trend again, or so my neighbor lady had told me.

Grace put her items on the bed and hesitated for a moment before turning back toward me. Her eyes started at my waist and moved up to my face. She smelled like a mix of daisies and gasoline, which was odd, but I didn’t say anything. at would be rude. Her hair was golden blond and went right to the middle of her back. Her eyes were the bluest blue I had ever seen, so blue, they almost didn’t look real. She was wearing a tight black skirt, heels, and a blouse with some sort of bunched-up fabric. I’m sure where she was from, it was fashionable, but girls ’round here didn’t wear stu like that. Her soft face was in direct contrast to her all-black attire, and I couldn’t help but stare at her pouty lips, waiting for her to say something.

“It’s perfect.” She smiled, but I caught a hint of apprehension in her voice. I let out a deep breath, and she laughed.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “Were you nervous I wouldn’t like it?”

“Well.” I shifted my stance from one leg to the other. “I don’t really get any female guests, and I wasn’t sure a city girl like yourself would be comfortable in a place like this.”

“If I can nd comfort in New York City amongst the rats and cockroaches, I can nd it anywhere.” Grace swung her suitcase onto the bed in one fell swoop. She most certainly was strong because that thing had to have weighed at least fty pounds.

“Need any help?” I o ered.

is was the awkward part of hosting guests. I never knew if they wanted me to stay and chat or leave them alone. I was sure Grace was the latter but I was already drawn to her like a moth to a ame or them damn coyotes to my chickens, so anything I could do to buy some more time with her, I would.

She shook her head. “No, I got it,” Grace said matter-of-factly. She grabbed her black leather bag, bent down beside the bed, and slid it all the way under.

“Top secret stu ?” I joked, scratching at the back of my neck.

She stood and looked at me, her brows drawn together. “Just work stu for emergencies only. If I don’t put it out of sight, I’ll nd myself replying to emails and taking calls, and I am here to relax, not work.” It seemed she was trying to convince herself of that more than me. We had more in common than she knew. I too had to keep busy. Idle hands, as they say, are the devil’s workshop.

“I can lock it away in the basement if ya want.”

“I like the idea but that won’t be necessary.” Grace unzipped her large suitcase and ung it open, revealing a stack of books and a perfectly organized bag. I knew she liked to read. It was on her Airbnb pro le, and I gured she’d spend a lot of her time here with her nose in a book. Everything was contained in individual packing cubes. Grace opened one up and dumped a pile of lacy bras and silky panties onto the oral bedspread. She glanced at me brie y and then directed her attention back at her task. I took that as my cue that Grace wanted to be left alone.

“I’ll leave you to it.” I tipped an imaginary hat and took a couple of steps

back toward the hall.

Her head snapped in my direction, and her mouth slowly parted. “Actually, why don’t you show me around rst. I can unpack later.”

“I’d love to. Let’s start with the fridge, cuz I could use a beer right about now.” I chuckled.

Grace cracked a smile. “Same,” she said.

I didn’t take her for a beer girl, and I couldn’t help but smile either.

Before she stepped toward me, Grace pulled o her heels and let out a sigh of relief while she wiggled her toes. Her toenails were painted a deep scarlet red like her ngernails.

Out in the kitchen, I pulled two Bud Lights from the fridge and popped the tops o against the heavy wood countertop. Grace took one from me. e lip of the bottle rested in between her full lips, and she made a refreshing sound when she was done. I stared in awe.

Grace held the bottle in her hand, rotating it a couple of times as if she were actually reading the label. I took a long swig. e beer zzled against my tongue and warmed my insides almost immediately.

“ is right here is the kitchen,” I said, gesturing to the room. “I gured that much,” she teased.

e corners of my lips stretched in opposite directions. I tried to hide my enthusiasm but my body wasn’t listening to my brain. I’m sure my cheeks were red too.

Grace glanced around the room.

e kitchen matched the available resources of our surroundings. Wood cabinets and counters with the raw material exposed made it look like the inside of a tree. Since I was the only one here, everything in the kitchen was for function, not form. No excess decorations or unnecessary show pieces like copper pots hanging from a rack. Just a simple wooden kitchen with a knife block, co ee pot, sink, and some appliances. I thought it was perfect but maybe that’s just for me.

“It’s simple, minimalist. I love it,” Grace complimented.

“ anks. It doesn’t really match the rest of the house because, well . . .” I trailed o . It wasn’t something I liked talking about, and I hoped she wouldn’t ask. I led her into the living room.

“ is was decorated by my mother. So it matches the style of your room.”

Old copies of unread magazines from publishers long out of print stood in a magazine rack. Afghans were piled next to the replace, and random portraits of old friends and moments from her past hung on the walls. Some of them I couldn’t even tell you who or what they were, but rather preferred to make up the story on my own.

Grace walked to a large bookshelf and ran her ngers along the spines of several books.

“You like to read?” she asked, glancing in my direction. “Yes, ma’am,” I said with a nod.

“Me too.” She smiled.

I almost said I know, but I stopped myself. Her eyes went to the taxidermy mounts hung haphazardly around the living room. No rhyme or reason to their placement. My father’s touch. e head of a deer, elk, wolf, bighorn sheep, and mountain lion. No matter where you were standing in the room their black marble eyes followed you. I could tell Grace wasn’t fond of them. She crumpled up her face, carefully staring at each animal. Perhaps she thought one might leap right o the wall.

“ ey won’t bite,” I said with a laugh.

“I know that.” She bit at her lower lip. “It’s just a bit un . . . usual.”

“Around here, they’re not. But you’re not from around here.” I looked over at her, my gaze sliding from her feet up to her eyes. What was a girl like her doing in a place like this? “Want me to take them down?” I o ered.

Grace looked like an alien who’d just landed on a new planet. She shook her head. “Oh no. Of course not.”

“You sure?” “Yeah.”

“You’ll get used to them,” I said. It was true though. You get used to most

anything.

She gave a slight nod but didn’t say another word.

We moved down the hall, and I pointed out the bathroom, the third bedroom, and the door to my bedroom. I showed her the linen closet where the towels and extra blankets and pillows were. She was quiet, just observing and taking it all in. We headed back down the hall, and she stopped.

“What’s this?” she said, gesturing to a door with a padlock on it.

“Oh, that goes down to the basement. It’s o -limits. You don’t want to go down there anyway. It’s un nished so it’s just a bunch of spiders and old stu and a heavy odor of mildew.” I quickly beckoned her with my hand, “Right this way.”

When I didn’t hear her move, I turned back. She was stopped in front of the door, staring at it. I knew then she wanted to see what was on the other side. When you told someone they couldn’t do something, it always made them want to do it. Curiosity always got the best of us, hence why I added the padlock. Grace must have felt my eyes on her because she snapped her head in my direction and gave a smile that seemed to quiver.

“Shall we?” she said in a high-pitched voice. I found her change in tone a bit odd but then again I was just getting to know her—so everything was odd.

Back in the kitchen, I pulled open the sliding door to a large wooden deck I had installed last summer. It was a nice sitting area with several outdoor couches, chairs, and end tables. Two grills stood next to each other near the railing, a gas and a charcoal.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the view.

It was the perfect backdrop of what Wyoming had to o er. A pasture with sheep and cows, the river cutting across the back forming the edge of the property line, thick pine woods jutting up just beyond the banks of the river, and the mountains in the distance, towering over the entire scene. It was about the only thing I liked about being back in Wyoming. ere ain’t much to do.

ere ain’t many people my age. But it is beautiful. I’ll give it that.

“It really is,” I said, looking over at Grace. She glanced at me, smiled again,

and drank the rest of her beer in one swig. I was about to ask her why she picked Dubois, Wyoming, but she spoke rst.

“I’m going to nish unpacking.” She turned on her foot and headed toward

the sliding door.

“Let me know if you need any help.”

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” Her voice was irty, or at least I thought it was. She disappeared inside without another word. I felt my cheeks

ush. ere was just something about Grace, something di erent. But I wasn’t ready to chase after another girl. It was too soon.