Susan said, “Oh, we’d want to pay you for it.”

“It was the old schoolhouse, you know, when the town was settled,” Albert said. “It was cut from the massive sandstone around here.” He gestured at the bluffs outside the window with the back of one hand. “They built that schoolhouse before they built the church. I always thought the schoolhouse must have been prettier than the church. I never thought it was a pretty church, even when I thought I might get married in it.”

The thought of Albert in a morning suit in the boxy Mormon temple made Susan want to laugh. He wasn’t a Mormon but didn’t dislike them; she had seen him argue genially with two boyish elders at his door. “Who were you going to marry?” she asked.

“Oh, no one in particular,” Albert said. “I just thought I might.” He said it to Clay, who smiled as if he understood.

“It was a pretty schoolhouse,” Susan said. “It’s beautiful stone. We want native stone to build with, railroad ties, things that fit in. We thought before we cut new stone we’d look for some that was already in blocks.”

Albert stood up to look out at the half-buried stone. “When my brother and I, he’s dead now, when we bought this place in sixty-six, that stone was there,” he said. “We built this house that year, had it built. I still have things to finish, like the molding on that door.” The front door was unvarnished, covered with yellow sticky-note reminders; the doorjamb was painted Sheetrock.

“Works fine like it is,” Clay said.

Albert dropped his weight back down in his seat. “I’m eighty-three, I’m probably not going to finish it,” he said, and he looked at the back of his hand on the card table. “Those stairs still need to be carpeted. My brother was going to do that. Other things he was going to do.” He stopped. “Yes, okay, I’ll give you that sandstone.”

“You don’t have to sell it if you don’t want to,” Clay said. “Susan just wants a house that’s authentic.” He grinned at her and she frowned.

Albert said, “My brother and I were going to build a house with that stone in sixty-six and had this built instead. Let’s call it tentative. When do you need it?”

“Not till spring, I guess,” Susan said, calculating. She didn’t want to give him all those months to change his mind, but she had a guilty sense they should give him as much time as he wanted. “We can get it anytime.”

“Okay. Tentatively, you can have it.” Albert pressed lightly at his bruised shoulder. “I want to think a little more.”

“No problem if you change your mind,” Clay said.

The three of them walked out on the porch and looked down at the pile of rock.