They stood on her porch as she waited for him to say something. The change of venue from his front door to her front door didn’t make him any more loquacious. But he was here, and he’d done a nice thing, so she gave him a smile and took the reins of the conversation. “Does the mailman often put mail in the wrong box?”
Inane chatter. She could do better, but his silent presence seemed to knock all cleverness out of her. Between this and her babbling on his porch, he was going to think she was an idiot.
Levi looked relieved rather than dismissive. “No. But this house was empty for two years. He’s probably not used to delivering mail here.”
“Lucky for him, I doubt I’ll get much.” She held up the roll of advertisements and credit-card solicitations. “This looks like a lot of junk.”
“There was an ad for Palmer’s Drug in mine. Best drugstore in town. I tossed everything else.”
“Oh. That’s good to know, actually.” Local pharmacies were often also compounding pharmacies and sometimes she needed the specialized service. Levi’s visit was proving to be more than just an opportunity to appreciate the rough angles of his face and feel like a babbling fool.
“Any other best-in-town places I should know about?”
He shrugged, then looked around, probably at the disrepair of her porch. “I always go to Ace Hardware. Good people over there.”
She laughed. “Will they come over and fix things, too?”
“Nah, but they give good advice. And this house has good bones. You take care of it, and it will take care of you.”
Before she could say anything else, Levi nodded once, then turned on his heel and walked off her porch.
Mina stood in her doorway, watching him until he’d crossed over her lawn and onto his own. His butt looked nice in his jeans, but that wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She also watched him because he was a puzzle of a man. If asked, she would have sworn that he was not a man to take such an ordinary task as returning a neighbor’s mail and make it a personal gesture complete with recommendations. Not when he could have silently stuck it in her mailbox.
* * *
A WEEK LATER, Mina stood on her front lawn cursing her lawn mower. It was new and fancy, and the man at the hardware store Levi recommended had sworn it was easy to use. When she’d gone to the store, she’d “just been looking” and hadn’t yet done any research into brands or reliability. But the salesman had promised next-day delivery and a thirty-day guarantee. He had sounded so reasonable, and she really had needed to mow her lawn or hire someone, so she’d plunked down her credit card.
Now she was the proud owner of a machine that wouldn’t start. Silence was probably not what the man had meant by “runs quiet.”
The lawn mower was electric, so it didn’t need gas, but no matter how many times she followed the directions and tried to start the damn thing, it wouldn’t run.
“Al sell you that?”
Mina jumped at the gruff voice behind her, releasing her hold on the mower and nearly falling backward. She turned to find Levi standing behind her, his arms crossed over a heathered green T-shirt.
“He should know better,” Levi continued, his pink lips barely moving as he spoke; but the disapproval in his voice was clear, despite his quiet tone. “That brand is notorious for having bad starters and needing repair straight out of the box.”
She exhaled a long puff of frustration. “It was cheap.”
He nodded. “They are cheap, and, when it runs, that machine will be as quiet as Al promised. But you can pay a little bit more and get a quiet mower that will run every time.”
“What do you know of lawn mowers? I’ve only ever seen you use a mower that looks like you made it in shop class from spare parts.”
His shoulders bounced as he chuckled. “That’s not far off. But fixing that thing has taught me more about lawn mowers than I ever wanted to know.”
“Why don’t you buy a new one?”
“Because Al has been trying to get me to buy a new one for years,” he said, his voice flat, like she was silly for asking that question, but his eyes had the barest gleam. Her neighbor might have a sly sense of humor hidden under his stony facade.
“You could go somewhere else.” She’d gone to the hardware store he had recommended because she wanted to support a small business, a decision she was rethinking right now.
“I could. But Al knows more about what’s in his store than all the clerks at the other stores combined.”
“He sold me a bum machine.”
Levi bent his head in acknowledgment. “He also sometimes wants a bad decision off his lot so quickly that he forgets he wants customers to return.”
She crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked up at her oddly unhelpful neighbor. “Well, you can call him and tell him to come pick up the lawn mower. I want a refund, and I’ll buy my new machine somewhere else.”
Levi’s lips twitched, and Mina wondered if he was going to smile, and, if so, was he smiling at her or at Al? Imagining him smiling at her didn’t make her feel any less angry, though it meant she wasn’t only angry with Al.
“You can do that,” he said slowly. “Or I can help you pack it up, and we can return it. And see what discounts Al will give you in an attempt to keep you as a customer.”
Mina gave the man standing in front of her a long, slow once-over. She’d seen Levi tinker with his lawn mower and glimpsed the expansive set of tools in his shed. Either he knew what he was talking about when it came to lawn mowers—and Al—or he spent a lot of money to look like Mr. Fix-It. Given the grease stains on his jeans and the slight bit of dirt under his fingernails, she decided to trust that he knew his stuff.
“I need an edge trimmer, too.”
A slow smile crossed his face. “Al has lots of nice trimmers, and I’m sure he’ll give you a good deal.”
“Okay. I’ll give Al another shot.”
Together they got her lawn mower into the back of Levi’s truck. Mina grabbed her purse from inside her house, then climbed into the passenger seat. As Levi shifted into Reverse, she asked, “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” he said, looking over his shoulder at the road and not once looking at her.
“Being neighborly and helping me out. When I stood on your porch and introduced myself, I was pretty sure you’d rather I hadn’t bothered.”
“Maybe I’m not helping you out. Maybe I’m helping Al out.”
That cryptic statement silenced Mina the entire drive to the store.
* * *
ON THE WAY home from the hardware store, new lawn mower in the bed of Levi’s truck, Mina asked the question that had been plaguing her the entire time they’d been shopping and Al had suddenly become informative, not just helpful.
“Am I coming home with a better lawn mower because you helped me and Al knows you, or because you helped me and you’re a man?”
Levi’s lips twitched, but he didn’t turn his head to look at her. An annoying habit of his, and one that added to her sense that she didn’t have a good read on him. Grumpy loner? Stoic, independent-minded Westerner? Helpful neighbor? All of the above? None of the above?
“Probably both. Al’s of the generation that thinks you should be inside making pie while your husband is outside pushing the mower. And you’re a city girl, so he’s doubtful that you’ll mow your lawn, so why sell you a nice product when you’re only going to hire someone anyway. But had you come into the store